Seraphina was sitting on a park bench two blocks away, nursing her throbbing ankle, when her phone buzzed.
Grandmother Victoria: Come to the Estate. Now.
A summons from Victoria Vanderbilt was not a request. It was a royal decree. The Estate in the Hamptons was hours away, but refusing was not an option if she wanted to settle this without a war that would destroy her brother.
She checked her bank balance on her phone. She had just enough for a private car service. She booked it, wincing at the cost.
The drive was long and agonizing. The suspension of the hired Lincoln Town Car wasn't kind to her injury. By the time they pulled through the iron gates of the Hamptons estate, the sun was high in the sky.
She was ushered into the drawing room by a silent butler.
Victoria Vanderbilt sat in a high-backed velvet chair by the fireplace. She was eighty years old, withered but sharp as a razor. Her silver cane rested against her knee.
Standing by the window was Aunt Beatrice-Tiffany's aunt by marriage. Beatrice held a teacup and wore a smirk that Seraphina wanted to slap off her face.
Sit, Victoria commanded.
Seraphina sat on the edge of a sofa, keeping her weight off her bad leg.
Beatrice tells me your brother is causing trouble with the Sloan family, Victoria said. Her voice was like dry parchment. "Public intoxication. Brawling."
Victoria hated the Sloans. She considered them "New Money trash."
Is Harrison involved with that Sloan girl? Victoria asked sharply, her eyes boring into Seraphina. "The sickly one?"
Beatrice interrupted quickly, her voice high and nervous. "Oh, Victoria, they are just friends. Seraphina is just jealous. She's imagining things because she... well, she hasn't given the family an heir yet."
Seraphina's hands clenched in her lap. The injustice burned.
She stood up, swaying slightly. She walked to the center of the room.
Harrison is in love with Tiffany Sloan, Seraphina said clearly.
Beatrice gasped. "Lies!"
He was with her last night at Le Bernardin on our anniversary. He was holding her hand at the hospital while my brother was unconscious. Seraphina looked directly at Victoria. "And I am divorcing him because of it."
The silence in the room was heavy enough to crush bones.
Victoria banged her cane on the floor. Thud.
Divorce? Victoria hissed. "A Vanderbilt does not divorce. It is messy. It is common."
A Sterling does not share a husband, Seraphina countered.
Victoria's eyes widened slightly. For the first time, she looked at Seraphina not as a decoration, but as a person. There was a flicker of respect in those ancient eyes.
Suddenly, the double doors burst open.
Harrison rushed in. He was breathless, his suit rumpled. He must have been nearby, perhaps at the Sloan's summer residence, when Beatrice alerted him.
Grandmother! Harrison exclaimed. He glared at Seraphina. "Don't listen to her. She's hysterical. She's having a breakdown."
He marched over to Seraphina and grabbed her arm-the uninjured one, thankfully.
We are leaving, he said through gritted teeth.
Let her speak, Harrison, Victoria said.
Harrison ignored the Matriarch. It was the first time in his life he had defied her. Panic was making him reckless.
She is embarrassing the family, Harrison hissed. He dragged Seraphina toward the door.
Let me go! Seraphina struggled, hopping on her good foot.
You are coming home, Harrison growled. "And you are going to learn your place."
He pulled her out of the drawing room, into the hallway, and out toward the gravel driveway.
