Chapter 88
Elara
Two staff members hurried forward to take down the painting. Sloane stood frozen in the center of attention, no longer the gracious gift-giver but the fool who'd been duped.
She bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, fingernails digging crescents into her palms.
Then her head whipped toward me.
If looks could kill, I'd have died a thousand deaths in that moment. Pure venom blazed in her eyes.
I met her gaze steadily. Didn't flinch. Didn't look away.
The evening dragged on. Guests began filtering out around ten, their departures accompanied by polite farewells and carefully neutral expressions.
I stood near the windows, counting the minutes until I could leave.
A scream shattered the drowsy atmosphere.
"Help! Someone help! Miss Kennedy collapsed!"
Everyone surged toward the side parlor. I found myself swept along in the crowd.
Sloane lay on the floor, face pale as death, lips tinged blue. Her breathing came in short, desperate gasps. One hand clutched at her throat while the other pressed against her stomach. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool air.
Julian reached her first, dropping to his knees and gathering her into his arms. "Sloane! What happened?!"
She pointed weakly at a teacup on the nearby table, her voice barely audible between gasps. "Tea... something in the... tea... can't... breathe..."
Her body went limp in his arms.
Two security guards seized Anna, who stood nearby clutching an empty tray. Her face had gone white.
Mr. Vane Senior stormed over, cane thumping against marble. "Anna! Did you serve that tea?!"
The tray clattered to the floor. China shattered. "I... yes, I served it, but I didn't—"
"If you served it, who else could be responsible?!" The old man's roar made her flinch.
Anna's whole body shook. Her eyes darted around the room, landing on face after face before finally settling on mine.
Something shifted in her expression. She bit her lip, as if making a monumental decision. I saw her hand move to her pocket—felt the weight of whatever she found there.
"It was..." Her voice trembled but carried clearly. "It was Miss Elara who told me to put something in the tea."
The room exploded.
"What?!"
"Elara? No way..."
"Actually, it makes sense—she just humiliated Sloane with that painting thing..."
"Yeah, and Sloane embarrassed her in return. Makes sense she'd want revenge..."
The floor tilted beneath my feet.
"I didn't!" My voice came out strangled. "I never said anything like that! Anna, why are you lying?!"
I remembered our confrontation in the hallway—her parting words: "You just wait."
This was her revenge.
Anna kept her head bowed, voice breaking. "I'm sorry... Miss Elara, but you did say... when we were upstairs... you said Miss Kennedy had stolen your place and you wanted her to suffer..."
"You're lying!" I tried to push forward. Security held me back. "You're only saying this because I caught you stealing wine! This is payback!"
Anna raised her head, a flash of triumph in her eyes. "Stealing wine? Do you have proof? But I heard you with my own ears—you wanted to hurt Miss Kennedy!"
Julian lifted Sloane in his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder. She looked ghostly pale, breathing shallow.
He glanced at me once. His expression cycled through doubt, anger, struggle, and something that might have been unwillingness to believe.
But Sloane needed a hospital. He didn't have time to sort through the truth.
"Get the car." He strode toward the exit without a backward glance.
Watching him disappear through the doors, Sloane in his arms, my heart sank like a stone.
He'd chosen. Again.
All those tender moments—keeping my room unchanged, helping with my zipper, holding my hand on the stairs—they'd meant nothing.
When it mattered, he still stood with Sloane.
---
Mr. Vane Senior planted himself in front of me, his cane pointing at my chest.
"Kneel."
I raised my chin, tears blurring my vision. "I didn't do it."
"The evidence is clear!" His laugh was harsh. "Anna has worked in this house for years. She has no reason to frame you. But you—you're ungrateful, vicious. You embarrassed me in front of my guests. And now you've tried to poison Sloane..." His cane jabbed toward the center of the great hall. "Kneel there. Right in the middle where everyone can see what happens to traitors. You don't move until I say so."
Not the private chapel. Not a discreet corner.
The main hall. Where staff would see me first thing in the morning. Where family members would pass by on their way to breakfast.
Maximum humiliation.
Two guards gripped my arms, forcing me to the center of the room. The cold marble sent a shock of pain through my knees as they hit the floor.
Above me, the crystal chandelier threw rainbow fragments across expensive leather sofas and priceless artwork. All that luxury suddenly felt like mockery.
Staff members huddled in corners, whispering.
"Miss Elara actually poisoned someone..."
"I always knew she was trouble..."
"Serves her right..."
Anna stood among them, a satisfied smirk playing at her lips.
---
9 PM. The hall dimmed to a handful of wall sconces. My knees had gone numb.
Staff passed occasionally, shooting me looks of contempt or pity. None dared help.
Midnight. The grandfather clock's chimes echoed through the silence. Cold seeped up from the marble, turning my bones to ice. The champagne-colored dress Julian had given me was far too thin for this.
The numbness in my knees shifted to sharp, stabbing pain. Every second stretched into eternity.
3 AM. My lips had turned blue. I'd run out of tears hours ago, leaving only hollow despair.
But I kept my back straight. Even humiliated, even in agony, I wouldn't bend.
5 AM. Dawn light crept through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the marble gold.
My mind had cleared somewhere in the darkness.
I replayed the evening: Sloane's jealous glare when I descended the stairs. Anna's "you just wait" after I'd caught her stealing. Sloane's fury when her expensive painting was revealed as a funeral piece. The perfectly-timed tea service. The sudden "poisoning."
Too many coincidences.
Someone had set me up. Someone with means and motive.
Who benefited most from my disgrace? Sloane.
Who had the strongest reason to destroy me? Also Sloane.
And Anna... after our hallway confrontation, she'd been the perfect tool.
"I'll find the truth." My voice cracked in the empty hall. "Sloane... Anna... I'll expose everything."