Winona’s drunken words from the night before had been brushed off by her friend Briana as nothing more than stress talking. By morning, the whole thing was water under the bridge—at least in Briana’s mind. But Elia Williams had been emboldened by the chaos she’d stirred up. Now, she grabbed every chance to cut Winona down.
“Weren’t you just the bold one yesterday? I almost thought you’d be too chicken to show your face here today. I’ve been dying to see just how capable you think you are! Winona Williams, someone like you was born to live under my thumb. That’s just the way it is, and you’d better get used to it.”
Once the meeting ended, as if on cue, Winona was left alone with Elia, forced to endure her icy sneers. She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms, while Elia tore apart the proposal she’d spent hours on, calling it garbage.
“Blowing the Morales deal has consequences. Don’t come crawling to me; you screwed it up all on your own. You’ve pissed them off, and that’s bad for business. So go figure out how to pay for that woman’s hospital bills yourself.”
“That’s not your call! You’re not the head of the Williams family,” Winona shot back.
Elia let out a light laugh, flicking her gaze down to her perfect manicure, then back to Winona with a dismissive sneer. “The Castro family doesn’t want anything to do with you. What are you even good for? Do you think Dad gives a damn about you? He listens to me. And that woman... why does she even bother breathing? She’d be better off dead.”
Winona shot her sister a glare, swallowing her rage for her mother’s sake. Elia flung the documents straight at Winona’s face, the papers smacking her skin.
“Your so-called talents are worthless to me. Skills? Who cares? You’re nothing but an employee. I don’t need to know a damn thing you know—I’m going to be Mrs. Castro soon, way above everyone, especially you. That’s the difference between us. If you can’t lock down the Morales deal, forget about your mother and any place in this family. Get out!”
Elia had dreamed of this moment for years—humiliating Winona, grinding her beneath her heel. She’d never forgotten the bitter sting of being mocked as the bastard child, her entire life cast in shadow by Winona’s existence. From the day she was brought into the Williams family, she’d sworn to strip Winona of everything, to keep her crushed underfoot forever. Her mother had drilled into her: show mercy and you’ll get trampled. The ends always justified the means. And now, the proof was clear: she was the one on top.
Winona stayed quiet, collecting the papers from the floor one by one, her movements deliberate. She shot Elia a frosty look, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk. “I never knew picking up my scraps could make you so happy.”
She straightened, showing no sign of bowing or backing down. If Elia thought this was worth crowing about, she could have it. Winona didn’t care.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Elia snapped, shooting up from her chair, her anger twisting the flawless lines of her makeup.
“You don’t get it? Let me make it simple: how’s a crow supposed to understand the flight of an eagle?”
Winona didn’t lower herself to trading insults. She was practical. Getting into it with someone as petty as Elia would only drag her down to that sewer. Sometimes the best answer was silence.
Elia’s furious punch hit nothing but air, leaving her seething with frustration. Winona pushed up her plain black glasses and turned to leave, her exit poised. Elia, refusing to let it end like this, trailed after her, but with the whole office watching, she had to rein in her temper, plastering on a smile as fake as it was polished, her long nails digging crescents into her palms.
Winona always wore a mask of indifference, never letting others see her crack. Even though she’d held her own this time, she knew Elia wasn’t bluffing. If she got to their father first, he’d likely take his anger out on their mother. Winona had to move fast.
She quickly organized her files and headed straight for her father’s office. This couldn’t wait. The secretary rose, announced her, then let her in. Winona stepped inside to find Dennis buried in a stack of papers, his brows furrowed. Had she picked the worst possible time? But then, it didn’t matter. Good mood or bad, the result would be the same.
“Mr. Williams, I need a word about something important,” she said, all business. Normally, Dennis would grunt a reply, but today was different.
“Winona, to what do I owe the pleasure? No need to be so stiff—we’re family. Have a seat.”
The unexpected warmth put Winona on guard. She knew him too well; if he wasn’t plotting something, he wouldn’t be playing nice. Winona kept her polite mask on, taking a seat. The secretary brought coffee and closed the door behind her.
“So, what can I do for you, Winona?”
“The hospital’s been hounding me for payments. And there are advanced treatments in Europe. I talked to a specialist—there could be a real chance for Mom if we send her overseas. I want you to consider it.”
Dennis chuckled. “That’s all? Just medical bills. No problem. I’ll have my secretary wire the money. Sending her abroad? Doable. These things are trivial.”
Winona’s chest tightened. Normally, he’d dodge or stall, crying poor. His easy agreement now? Suspicious. Something was off, but she bit her tongue.
Silence settled between them. Then, “Winona, I know you’re capable. About the dinner last night—I may have been too quick to judge. I shouldn’t interfere in young people’s business, and I’m not going to blame you regardless. As for your sister and the Castros, well, they prefer her. Not much I can do about that.”
“I get where you’re coming from, Dad. Some things just aren’t meant to be. I made that clear yesterday, didn’t I?”
He gave an awkward laugh. “Since your sister’s got her situation settled, I figured I should step up as a father so nobody thinks I’m ignoring my eldest. Your stepmother and I talked it over and we’ve found you a great match. The prospect is very taken with you, and they’re wealthy. You’d live comfortably.”
Winona almost laughed out loud. A golden opportunity, just dropped in her lap? Right.
“I appreciate your concern, Dad.”
“Don’t mention it! Mr. Brooks has his eye on you. His son’s thirty, just a few years older—a perfect fit. The Brooks family is just the two of them. Marry in, and you’d be the lady of the house. A spot most only dream of.”
Winona’s smile froze. Just as she’d guessed. The Brooks family had money and a solid business, but everyone knew Mr. Brooks’s son had incurable congenital disabilities.
