Chapter 6
Crouched between rows of silk blouses and designer gowns, Koralie held her breath. The faint rustle of Eleanor’s gold cape gown heralded her entry into the dressing alcove. Through a narrow gap in the velvet garments, Koralie watched Eleanor approach the vanity, humming a self-satisfied tune.
Eleanor reached for her tablet, tapping the screen to check the lock status. Koralie’s muscles tensed, ready for discovery, but the device remained dark and quiet, having successfully entered sleep mode the moment the export finished. Eleanor tossed the tablet aside without a second thought, checking her reflection in the mirror and smoothing a stray lock of dark hair into her immaculate updo.
"Everything is falling into place," Eleanor muttered to herself, her voice carrying a smug satisfaction that made Koralie’s blood run cold. "Once the wedding is over and the press release goes live, Richard won't have a leg to stand on. The estate, the foundation, the society board—it all consolidates under our banner. That stubborn girl and her mother's memory will be nothing more than a footnote."
Richard appeared in the doorway behind Eleanor, looking uneasy as he leaned against the doorframe. "Are you sure about this, Eleanor? Koralie has been very quiet tonight. That usually means she's planning something. She gets that stubborn streak straight from her mother."
Eleanor whirled around, her expression hardening instantly. "Your ex-wife is dead, Richard. And Koralie is a guest in this house, living under our rules. If she doesn't like the seating chart, she can walk out that front door right now. But she won't. She cares too much about optics, just like you do. Now stop worrying and go down to the cellar. I want that vintage champagne chilled for Vance’s arrival tomorrow."
Richard hesitated, opening his mouth as if to argue, but ultimately swallowed his words. He nodded defeatedly and turned away, shuffling back out into the hallway.
May you like
Watching her father submit so easily to Eleanor’s manipulation filled Koralie with a deep, aching sorrow, but it extinguished any remaining doubt. Richard was no longer an ally; he was an accomplice through weakness.
Waiting until Eleanor moved out of the dressing alcove and into the main bedroom to change for bed, Koralie slipped silently out of the closet and darted toward the private balcony doors that led to the exterior staircase. The cool night air hit her face like a splash of cold water as she stepped out onto the wrought-iron landing, descending quietly into the manicured gardens below.
