The next morning, the summons came.
"Mrs. Barrett wants to see you in the study," the maid said. She wouldn't look Elise in the eye.
Elise walked into the study. The curtains were drawn. The room smelled of old paper and Joyce's slim cigarettes.
Joyce sat behind the massive mahogany desk. Mr. Henderson stood beside her.
Mr. Henderson slid a thick document across the desk.
"Power of Attorney," Elise read the title upside down. "Transferring management of the Garcia-Barrett Trust to... Jayden Barrett."
Elise looked up. "What is this?"
Joyce lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around her fingers. "Jarret is dead. You don't know how to run the portfolio, Elise. It's complex. International assets."
"Jayden is a soldier," Elise said. "Not a businessman. Why would he run it?"
"He is a Barrett," Joyce said. "You are a Garcia."
The insult was plain. Elise wasn't blood. She wasn't capable.
Elise pushed the paper back. "No. The prenup gives me control of my share of the assets in the event of Jarret's death. I know the law."
Joyce's eyes narrowed. Smoke blew from her nostrils. "We can make your life very difficult, Elise. Legal battles take years. You have no access to funds right now."
"My lawyer will be in touch," Elise said. She stood up. Her legs were shaking, but she kept her back straight.
Elise walked out of the study. She needed to get to her room. She needed to breathe.
She walked into the living room.
Cristine was waiting there. She was blocking the path to the stairs.
"You greedy little climber," she hissed.
Elise stopped. "Get out of my way, Cristine."
"Sign the papers," she demanded. She took a step toward Elise. "It belongs to the family. Not to some charity case Jarret married for votes."
"I am the family," Elise said calmly.
Cristine snapped. Her face twisted into an ugly mask of rage.
She lunged.
Her hand connected with Elise's cheek. Crack.
It was a sharp, stinging sound that echoed in the high ceilings.
Elise stumbled back, clutching her face. Her skin burned. She stared at Cristine in shock. Cristine had actually slapped her.
The study door opened behind Elise. Joyce walked out. She saw Elise holding her cheek. She saw Cristine panting, hand raised.
Elise waited for Joyce to yell. To tell Cristine to leave.
Joyce looked at Elise coldly. "You provoked her."
Elise's jaw dropped. "She hit me!"
"Cristine is grieving," Joyce said smoothly. "You are antagonizing us with your greed."
Elise realized then. There was no justice here. They were gaslighting her. They were a pack of wolves.
Elise looked up at the stairs.
The man-Jayden-was standing at the top landing. He was watching.
He saw Elise's red cheek. He saw Cristine's smirk.
He gripped the wooden banister. His knuckles turned white. His body tensed, like he was about to leap over the rail.
"Help me," Elise mouthed.
He looked at her. His eyes were tortured.
Then, he turned away. He walked back into the shadows of the hallway.
Elise's heart hardened into a lump of coal.
No one was coming. The gentle man from the wedding night was dead. This man was a coward.
Elise touched her cheek. It was hot.
This ends now, Elise thought.
