Chapter 79

Chapter 79
Eloise's POV

Seven o'clock. Morning light came through my silk curtains and hit the mahogany furniture. I sat at my vanity, looking at myself in the mirror. Still beautiful after all these years. A few lines around my eyes, but they made me look wiser, more distinguished. 

I grabbed my ivory comb and started brushing my golden hair. Slow, careful strokes. Each one reminded me how much I'd accomplished. Fifteen years ago, I was nobody. Just some broke noble's daughter who had to marry Juan Stewart - a widower with two brats - because I had no other choice.

"Look at me now," I whispered to my reflection, letting satisfaction color my voice.

The comb went through my hair as I thought about that scared girl at the altar, promising to love some guy I barely knew. Back then I had nothing except my looks and my brains. Now I had everything - position, wealth, influence. Most importantly, I had control.

I finished with my hair and reached for my French face cream. Fifty gold coins for one jar. A peasant family could live on that for a year, but for me it was just part of getting ready each morning. I rubbed it into my skin, enjoying the luxury I used to think was impossible.

Last night Juan was in his study looking at ledgers.

"Eloise," he'd said without looking up, "I need you to handle the Alderson reception next week. You're good at this social stuff."

Good at it. That made me happy. Not loved, not cherished - I didn't need that romantic bullshit from him. But useful? That was way better. That meant security.

At seven-thirty, Anna knocked softly on my door. "My lady, breakfast is ready."

"I'll be down in a moment."

I gave myself one final look in the mirror. Perfect, as always. The woman staring back at me had everything under control.

Downstairs, Juan was already eating breakfast, his morning paper spread out. He looked up when I walked in and nodded.

"Morning," he said, then went back to reading.

"Good morning, darling." I sat across from him and noticed his eyes looked tired. "You stayed up late again last night?"

"Some problems with the northern mining thing," he said from behind his paper. "Nothing I can't fix."

I made a small sound and spread marmalade on my toast. This was how our marriage worked - practical, efficient, comfortable. We both knew our jobs. He gave me money and status, I kept his house running and made him look good at parties. Love didn't matter, which was fine with both of us.

The fake Sophia came downstairs, and I watched her carefully. She'd been much quieter lately, not as rebellious as when she first showed up. Good. Maybe she was finally learning her place.

"Good morning, Sophia," I said warmly. "You look tired, sweetheart. Are you sleeping okay?"

"Fine," she said, sitting down. "Just some weird dreams."

Weird dreams? I kept my face concerned while my mind got sharp and focused. "What kind of dreams? Maybe I should call Dr. Henderson if you're having trouble sleeping."

"No, it's nothing like that. Just getting used to everything here."

Her answer sounded totally normal. I relaxed. This girl really didn't know anything important. She was like a bird in a cage that thought it understood the world but had no idea how big it actually was.

During breakfast, Juan talked about some family business stuff. I gave him smart suggestions, showing him I was deeply involved in running our household. This was my value to him - not passion or romance, but practical partnership. I made his life easier, helped him make better decisions, managed his social calendar perfectly.

"Speaking of social stuff," Juan said, putting down his coffee cup, "how are the charity gala preparations going?"

This was my moment to shine. "Everything's going great. Twenty-two noble families have confirmed they're coming, and even Duchess Aldric agreed to attend."

Juan raised an eyebrow. "The Duchess doesn't usually go to private parties."

"Yeah, it took a lot of work to convince her," I said modestly, but inside I felt amazing. Getting the most important woman in the capital to come to my event was brilliant social maneuvering. "But I think she really connected with our cause."

"Good work," Juan said approvingly. "Events like this make the family look really good."

He talked like he was discussing a business deal rather than his wife's social victory, but that was exactly what I wanted to hear. My importance to this family was obvious.

At eight o'clock, Zaid came downstairs. His arm was still bandaged from his recent injury, but he looked way better. This boy was my insurance policy, my investment in the future. Through him, I'd keep my power long after Juan was gone.

"Morning, Mother. Father," he said politely, then shot a quick dirty look at Sophia.

I loved seeing that look. Zaid hadn't forgotten what I taught him about loyalty. The fake Sophia might have fooled Juan, but Zaid knew the truth - she was an outsider, a threat to our family.

"How's your arm?" I asked, playing the worried stepmother while calculating his future worth.

"Much better. The doctor says I can take the bandages off next week."

"Great." I turned to Juan. "Maybe it's time Zaid started learning about the family business? He's sixteen now, definitely old enough for some responsibility."

Juan thought about it. "You're right. Zaid, starting Monday, you'll spend afternoons at the office with me. Time you learned how to handle accounts and contracts."

Zaid's face lit up, and I felt deep satisfaction. Another piece falling into place. In a few years, when Zaid understood the business completely, Juan would have someone he trusted to carry on everything. And I would be the power behind that throne, the smart stepmother who guided him through it all.

By nine o'clock, everyone had gone off to do their own things. Juan to his office, Zaid to hang out with friends, Sophia to whatever mysterious crap she did all day. I went to my private sitting room, my safe space in this house.

This room showed who I really was - the paintings I'd chosen carefully, the philosophy books on my shelves, the elegant desk where I planned and schemed. I wasn't just some pretty decoration. I was the brain behind this family's social success.

I opened my leather planner and started going over today's schedule. The charity gala needed tons of details handled - final menu approval, seating charts, coordinating with the flower people. Every single thing had to be perfect because this event would prove I was the capital's best hostess.

I wrote notes in my neat handwriting about follow-up calls I needed to make, last-minute changes to think about. This was how I stayed in control - planning everything carefully and paying attention to every tiny detail.

My pen stopped when I thought about Nia's death. That stupid woman had worked for me for fifteen years, never questioning my orders, never hesitating to do what I told her. But in the end, she actually believed I would save her family. So touching and naive.

People always wanted to believe the best about their bosses. Nia had convinced herself that fifteen years of loyal service meant something to me beyond just being useful. She really thought I cared about her welfare, her kids' future. The delusion made her final moments especially pathetic.

But her death had solved a big problem. The only person who knew certain details about my early years with this family was now shut up forever. Well, except for Saskia, but that girl had been scared into silence for ten years. She would never dare challenge me.

At ten o'clock, Margaret knocked to announce visitors. "My lady, Mrs. Pemberton, Lady Hawthorne, and Mrs. Blackwell are here."

"Perfect. Show them to the blue drawing room right away."