Chapter 17: Chapter 17
Cassandra walked into the master bedroom like she owned it. The maids followed behind her, carrying boxes and bags. Nathaniel had already left for work that morning, and she wasted no time making her presence felt.
She opened Savannah’s old wardrobe. A few dresses still hung there. Some shoes were pushed into a corner. Cassandra pulled one of the gowns out and held it with two fingers, her nose wrinkled.
“Pathetic,” she muttered. “This rubbish has no place in my house.”
She turned to the maids. “Take all of this out. Every last piece. We’ll burn them.”
The maids exchanged quick glances. One of them, a younger girl named Leah, spoke softly. “Madam, if you don’t want them, maybe you can give them to me. I could—”
SLAP! Cassandra’s hand struck Leah’s cheek so hard the sound echoed. The room went silent. Leah staggered back, clutching her face. The other maids froze in fear.
Cassandra’s voice was sharp. “Did I ask for your opinion? You dare suggest what I should do? Trash like Savannah’s clothes are not for you. They will burn.”
The maids lowered their eyes, trembling. Leah’s eyes watered, but she did not speak again. Cassandra smirked, proud of herself, and flung another of Savannah’s dresses to the floor.
“Gather everything,” Cassandra ordered. “Shoes, bags, even her silly jewelry. I don’t want a single memory of her in this house. From today, this mansion belongs to me.”
The maids moved quickly, stuffing Savannah’s things into large black bags. Cassandra sat on the bed, crossing her legs like a queen. She picked up a glass of wine from the nightstand and sipped.
“Good. Faster. Don’t drag your feet.”
Once the bags were full, she stood and walked with the maids to the garden. She poured lighter fluid on the pile of clothes herself. The flame rose high, orange and cruel, eating away Savannah’s belongings. The smell of burning fabric filled the air.
Cassandra clapped her hands once. “Perfect. That’s how trash should end.”
The maids bowed their heads, silent. None of them dared to look at her. She turned and faced them, her voice colder than ever.
“Now listen to me carefully. Nathaniel may be your boss, but I am your Madam now. Things will change in this house. You will serve me the way I want, when I want, and how I want.”
Her eyes swept over their faces, daring anyone to speak. No one did.
She continued, “Breakfast must be on the table by six every morning. If I call, you run. If I shout, you appear. If I see dust, even a single grain, you will regret it. And let me be clear—anyone who disrespects me like Leah just did will not just be slapped. She will be thrown out with nothing.”
Leah’s tears fell quietly. She kept her head low, praying Cassandra’s eyes wouldn’t land on her again.
Cassandra smirked. “Good. You understand. I like obedience. This is my house now, and Savannah is gone. Don’t even mention her name again.”
She turned and walked back inside, her heels clicking against the floor. The maids followed at a distance, whispering among themselves once Cassandra was out of earshot.
“This woman is worse than the last,” one of them muttered.
“Careful,” another hissed. “If she hears you, you’ll be next.”
Inside the mansion, Cassandra strolled through the halls with pride. She touched the polished wood, the golden frames, the rich curtains. She imagined herself hosting parties here, standing beside Nathaniel as his wife. She smiled to herself.
But deep inside, her thoughts were darker. Once Savannah signs those papers, everything will be mine. And if she doesn’t… well, she can stay lost forever. Nathaniel is too proud to go searching for her. This house, this company, this life—it will all belong to me.
She paused by the grand mirror in the living room and studied her reflection. Her lips curved into a slow smile. “Yes,” she whispered. “Soon, I will be Mrs. Nathaniel.”
By evening, Nathaniel returned home. Cassandra met him at the door, her smile bright, her perfume filling the air.
“You look tired,” she said sweetly, sliding her hand along his arm. “Come, let me take care of you.”
Nathaniel dropped his briefcase on the table and loosened his tie. “It was a long day at the office. The board keeps asking about Savannah.”
Cassandra’s smile faltered for just a second, but she quickly covered it. “Forget her. She left you. She doesn’t care about you. Why should you waste your time on her?”
Nathaniel’s face hardened. “She didn’t sign the papers. Until she does, I can’t move forward.”
Cassandra leaned closer, her voice soft and persuasive. “Then forge her signature. No one will know. The faster she’s out of the picture, the sooner we can build our life together.”
Nathaniel stared at her. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—anger, confusion, or maybe doubt. Then he looked away. “I’ll think about it.”
Cassandra kissed his cheek, her smile returning. “Good. Don’t worry, darling. I’m here now. You won’t miss her.”
She slipped her arm around his and led him to the dining room, where the maids had laid out dinner. None of them looked up as Cassandra walked in, their faces tight with fear. They served silently, praying the night would pass without more trouble.
Cassandra sat at the head of the table beside Nathaniel, acting every bit the mistress of the house. She spoke about parties, business meetings, and redecorating the mansion. Nathaniel listened half-heartedly, his mind elsewhere.
Upstairs, the smell of burnt fabric still lingered faintly in the air. Savannah’s last traces were gone.
But far away, in a quiet hospital room, Savannah lay sleeping, her hand resting on her stomach. She had no idea what Cassandra was doing in the mansion she once called home. She had no idea her clothes, her things, her life had been turned to ash.
And Cassandra, sitting with a glass of wine in her hand, whispered to herself, “Soon, she will never come back. This is my place now.”