Fredy stood in his private study, breathing heavily. He grabbed a priceless Ming dynasty vase from the mantel and hurled it against the wall. It shattered into dust.
Sylvia stood near the door, wringing her hands. "We cannot let that feral girl ruin our reputation, Fredy. She's out of control."
Fredy took a deep breath, forcing his heart rate down. A cold, mercenary light entered his eyes. "She's beautiful," he muttered. "And she's a Kramer. There's value in that. We just need to break her."
Half an hour later, the head butler knocked timidly on Helen's bedroom door. He held out a thick stack of legal documents.
"Mr. Gallagher requires your signature, miss," the butler said nervously. "It's the paperwork to legally change your surname to Gallagher."
Helen didn't even read the first line. She snatched the papers from his hands, walked over to the small paper shredder by the desk, and shoved the entire stack into the slot.
The machine whined and ground the documents into confetti.
"Tell him," Helen said over the noise, her voice like grinding stone, "I would rather die than carry his filthy name."
The butler wiped sweat from his upper lip and scurried away to report to Fredy.
Fredy ground his teeth together when he heard the news, but he swallowed his rage. He had a better trap to set.
At three in the afternoon, Candice kicked Helen's door open. Two maids followed her, their arms full of outdated, heavily sequined Chanel and Dior gowns.
Candice lifted her chin, looking down her nose at Helen. "These are my cast-offs," she sneered. "You can borrow one for the charity gala tomorrow night. Your trashy clothes will embarrass us."
Helen was sitting on the floor by the window. She had a heavy, antique pocket watch spread out on a towel, methodically calibrating a tiny metal gear with a micro-screwdriver, though the casing hid a highly advanced encrypted signal jammer. She didn't look up.
"I'm in mourning for my mother," Helen said flatly. "I don't wear neon garbage."
Candice's face flushed with anger. She marched forward, grabbing a hot pink dress from a maid, intending to throw it directly onto Helen's face.
Helen's eyes snapped up. Her wrist flicked.
A solid brass gear from the watch flew through the air with a sharp flick of her wrist. It grazed right past Candice's ear, shattering the heavy crystal vase on the hallway console table directly behind her head with a violent crack.
Candice screamed. She dropped the dress and stumbled backward, clutching her face in absolute terror.
Helen stood up slowly. She walked toward Candice, her presence filling the room with a suffocating pressure. "Take your trash and get out."
Candice burst into tears and ran down the hall. The maids dropped the dresses and fled.
That night, Fredy came to Helen's door. He didn't enter. He stood in the hallway, his voice hard.
"You will attend the Montgomery charity gala tomorrow night," Fredy demanded. "If you refuse, I will cut off every cent of funding to the nursing home where your grandmother is staying."
Inside the room, Helen's hands stopped moving. A violent, murderous rage spiked in her chest.
Her grandmother had been dead for years. Fredy didn't know that. He was using a ghost to blackmail her. It was a test of control.
Helen opened the door. She looked at Fredy's smug face. "Fine. I'll go."
Fredy smiled, a greasy, victorious look. He thought he had found her leash.
Helen watched him walk away. Her stomach twisted with disgust, but her mind was already calculating. She would use his gala to find the information she needed, and then she would burn his world down.
