Estela's private study was a sanctuary of dark wood and heavy velvet. The fire in the hearth crackled, casting flickering shadows across the walls. But the warmth did nothing to thaw the icy tension in the room.
Baron stood before his mother's massive oak desk, his chest heaving. He threw a copy of Forbes onto the polished surface. The headline read: Burnett Heiress MIA: Trouble in Paradise?
"The media is having a field day!" Baron shouted, his voice echoing off the bookshelves. "Frances refusing to attend the charity gala? Everyone is speculating about our marriage!"
Estela sat behind the desk, calmly sipping her tea. She didn't even glance at the magazine. "I assumed you had handled her," she said, her tone dripping with disappointment.
Baron began to pace, his shoes wearing a path into the expensive rug. "She's changed! She's like a block of ice. I can't read her. I can't predict her. She just... stares."
He stopped, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He looked at his mother, his eyes burning with a desperate, selfish need. "Bring Gia back. Now. Today."
It wasn't the first time he had made the demand, but this time, there was a violent edge to his voice.
"Jagger needs his mother," Baron argued, his tone shifting to a whine. "With Gia here, she can comfort Jagger. And she can help me 'manage' Frances."
Estela slammed her teacup down. The delicate porcelain clattered against the saucer. "I said no! The timing is wrong."
She stood up, her small frame seeming to grow larger in the firelight. "Gia Hobbs's background is a minefield. Her father is a drunk. Her mother is a gambler. And Gia herself? She left a trail of scandals in the art world just to climb the social ladder."
She pointed a bony finger at Baron. "The moment she steps foot in this estate, the press will dig up every piece of trash connected to her. And when they do, Jagger's true parentage will be exposed!"
Baron scoffed, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "So what? Are you going to just stand by and watch Frances put that street rat Arvel on the throne?"
He leaned over the desk, getting in his mother's face. "We have to strike first! Bring Gia home. Let Jagger feel the warmth of a real family. That is our greatest weapon! Blood. A mother. That's what will win this."
Estela's face hardened. "While the legal documents are not finalized, any accident could ruin everything! Frances is a snake in the grass. She is waiting for us to slip up."
"Then we make her slip up!" Baron roared. "We can't just sit here defending! She is attacking us!"
Across the hall, hidden in the shadows of her own sitting room, Frances sat perfectly still. A tiny, flesh-colored earpiece was lodged in her left ear. A wire ran down to a receiver tucked into her waistband.
Phoebe had planted the bug in Estela's study . It was a risky move, but it was paying off in spades.
Frances listened to every word. Gia Hobbs. The name was a key turning in a lock. The background, the scandals-it was all falling into place.
In the study, the argument reached a boiling point.
"Baron," Estela warned, her voice like gravel. "I will not allow you to destroy generations of Burnett legacy over a woman."
Baron stared at his mother, his eyes dark and dangerous. He knew he had to play his trump card. He had to force her hand.
He went quiet. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, he spoke, each word slow and deliberate.
"If you don't bring Gia back," Baron said, his voice barely a whisper, "I will go to the press myself and 'clarify' Jagger's parentage. Your choice, Mother."
