Chapter 128
Elara
Sloane moved closer, one hand still resting protectively on her belly, her expression the perfect picture of sympathetic understanding. "I know this must be hard for you. You've had feelings for Julian for such a long time, and now you're seeing him move on with his life. It's natural to feel hurt. But trying to destroy his sister's reputation, making these wild accusations... that's not going to change anything. Julian and I are building a life together. We're having a baby. And no matter how much you try to sabotage us, that's not going to change."
The crowd shifted uncomfortably. I could see it in their faces—the way the sympathy that had been building for me was starting to drain away, replaced by doubt and judgment. Because Sloane was good at this. She was so good at playing the victim while twisting the knife, at making herself look reasonable while painting me as the jealous, unstable girl who couldn't let go.
And suddenly I understood. This was her real talent—not art, but this. The ability to manipulate a room full of people, to control the narrative, to make herself the heroine and me the villain. She'd been doing it for years, and she'd gotten away with it because she was beautiful and charming and came from the right family.
But I'd learned a few things too. I'd learned that sometimes the only way to survive was to play by their rules, to use their own weapons against them.
So I did something I never thought I'd do. Something that made me hate myself even as I did it.
I let my voice break. I let my shoulders slump. I let tears well up in my eyes and spill down my cheeks, and I didn't try to wipe them away.
"You're right," I said, my voice small and trembling. It was the voice I'd used as a child when I was trying to make the Vanes like me, when I was desperate for any scrap of affection or approval. It was the voice of a girl who'd been broken down and taught to be grateful for crumbs. And I hated how easily it came back to me, how natural it felt to slip into that role again.
But it worked. I could see it in the way the crowd's expression shifted, the way even Sloane's perfect mask flickered with uncertainty.
"You're right," I said again, louder this time. "I did love Julian. I loved him for years. I loved him from the moment I came to this house, when I was fifteen and lost and scared, and he was the only one who was kind to me."
I looked at Julian then, and I let him see the tears streaming down my face. "You were so good to me back then. You brought me warm milk when I couldn't sleep. You stood up for me when the other kids at school were cruel. You taught me how to navigate this world that felt so foreign and frightening. And I... I fell in love with you. How could I not?"
My voice was shaking now, and I wasn't sure if it was from the performance or from the truth of what I was saying. Because even though I was using these words as weapons, they were still true. I had loved him. I had loved him with everything I had, and it had destroyed me.
"I know I was just a kid," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "I know I shouldn't have had those feelings. You were my guardian's grandson, and I was just the daughter of your family's dead employee. But I couldn't help it. I thought... I thought if I was good enough, if I worked hard enough, if I was talented enough... maybe I could be worthy of you."
The crowd was completely silent now, hanging on every word. I could see women dabbing at their eyes, could see the men shifting uncomfortably. Even Victoria had stopped looking triumphant, her face pale and uncertain.
"But I know better now," I said, and this time I looked directly at Sloane. "I know that was all just a fantasy. A stupid, childish fantasy. Because you're right—Julian has moved on. He's building a life with you, and he's going to have a baby with you, and that's... that's how it should be."
I turned back to the crowd, my voice growing stronger even as the tears continued to fall. "So when Victoria says I'm jealous, she's not entirely wrong. I am jealous. I'm jealous of what you have, Sloane. I'm jealous that you get to be with him, that you get to build a family with him, that you get to have the life I used to dream about."
I paused, letting that sink in. Letting them see me as the heartbroken girl who'd finally accepted defeat. And then I turned to Victoria.
"But that doesn't excuse what you did to me," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I may have been wrong to love Julian. I may have been foolish to think I could ever be part of this family. But that doesn't give you the right to torment me, to hire people to attack me, to make my life a living hell. I'm not your enemy, Victoria. I'm just a girl who made the mistake of loving someone she couldn't have."
I looked around the room one more time, meeting the eyes of the people who'd watched me grow up in this house. "I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm not here to break up Julian's engagement or hurt anyone. I just wanted answers. I wanted to know why Victoria hates me so much, why she can't just let me live my life in peace now that I've moved out of this house."
I turned to Mr. Vane, and this time my voice was pleading. "I'm living in a car garage in the Bronx now, Mr. Vane. I'm going to school and trying to build a life for myself. I'm not a threat to anyone. I'm not trying to embarrass this family or cause problems. I just want to be left alone."
The old man's face was unreadable, but I saw something flicker in his eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or pity. I couldn't tell which.
"Please," I said, and I let my voice break one more time. "Please just let me go. Let me live my life without looking over my shoulder, wondering when Victoria or someone else from this family is going to come after me again. That's all I'm asking. Just... let me go."