Chapter 47 Their Queen
Elsie
Mrs. Chavez’s fingers dug into my arm as she dragged me down the marble hallway. My bag hung limply from her other hand, swinging against her leg.
“You stubborn child,” she hissed. “Do you want to get yourself killed?”
“Mrs. Chavez, please—”
“Quiet!” she snapped. “I warned you. I told you not to wander, not to do things that weren’t your concern. But you never listen!”
She yanked me toward the front door. I stumbled after her, my breath shaking, my heart pounding against my ribs.
“Please, I can explain—”
“You can explain to the driver,” she said coldly. “He’ll take you far from here.”
I tried to pull back, but her grip only tightened. “Please, don’t do this—”
“Enough!”
The voice came from behind us—deep, steady, commanding.
Mrs. Chavez froze.
We both turned.
Caleb stood at the end of the hallway, his expression hard and unreadable.
“Let her go,” he said. His voice was calm, but his tone carried something that made even Mrs. Chavez hesitate.
“She stays.” His voice was stern and left no room for argument.
Before Mrs. Chavez could respond, another voice boomed across the hall.
“No.”
Malcolm Lancaster stepped out of his study, his steps echoing sharply against the floor. His eyes were burning red with rage, his presence filling the entire space.
“She leaves,” he said. “And that’s final.”
The silence that followed was heavy, almost painful. My legs were trembling, waves of shiver running through me, not from the fear of Malcom’s presence in the room but from the aches and soreness between my legs.
Jacob appeared from the stairs, his face pale. “Why?” he asked quietly.
Malcolm turned, looking between him and Caleb, his jaw tightening. “Have all three of you lost your damn minds?”
His voice rose, and the whole house seemed to shake with it. “What is happening to you boys? I have built this family, this legacy, with everything I have—and I will not sit here and watch you destroy it over some maid!”
My heart jumped. The word maid hit hard. But no one spoke.
“This girl,” Malcolm said, pointing at me, “has brought chaos into this house. You two,” his finger moved from Caleb to Jacob, “have lost your damn sense because of her. And I need to start putting my house back together before everything I built falls apart!”
Mrs. Chavez still held my wrist, though her grip had softened. I could feel her trembling slightly. Behind her anger, there was confusion. Worry. Maybe even fear.
Jacob stepped forward. “She won’t leave,” he said.
Malcolm’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?”
“She has nowhere to go,” Jacob said, his voice steady, calm. “This house is all she has.”
“Jacob,” Malcolm barked, “don’t start—”
“But if this will make you happy,” Jacob continued, “Aiden has agreed to fix things with Lena. If that’s what this is about, fine. Let him marry her. Let’s just end this madness.”
Malcolm’s laugh was short and bitter. “You think that’s the problem? That’s not the problem!” He took a step forward. “The problem is that every single one of you has lost your mind. I raised men—strong, disciplined men. Not fools who fight over a servant.”
Caleb stepped between them, his expression cold. “That’s enough.”
Malcolm’s eyes flashed. “What did you say to me, boy?”
Caleb’s jaw tightened. “I said that’s enough, Father. She’s not leaving.”
Malcolm’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “And who are you to challenge me?”
“I’m not challenging you,” Caleb said quietly. “But she stays. She works here until she decides to leave.”
The sound of the slap cracked through the air.
Caleb’s head snapped to the side, his cheek turning red almost instantly.
For a moment, everything froze.
Jacob’s breath caught. Mrs. Chavez’s grip on me tightened again. My own throat felt dry.
“How dare you,” Malcolm hissed. “How dare you talk back to me in my own house?”
Caleb slowly straightened. His expression didn’t change. His voice didn’t shake. “You hit me once,” he said softly. “Do it again if you must. But she’s staying.”
The silence after that felt like it could break something.
Malcolm’s chest heaved. His face was dark with fury. “You boys are driving me insane,” he muttered. “You want to destroy everything I’ve built? Fine. Keep her here. Let’s see how long it takes before she ruins all of you.”
He turned sharply, about to leave—but then Aiden’s voice came from the doorway “Wait, Dad”
Everyone turned.
He looked tired, his shirt half-buttoned, his eyes heavy, but his tone was firm. “This is my fault,” he said. “All of it. Let her stay, and I’ll fix everything. I’ll do what you want. I’ll stay away from her. I’ll make things right with Lena. But leave Elsie out of this.”
Malcolm looked at him long and hard. The anger in his eyes dimmed a little, replaced by something else, something heavier.
“You fix this mess,” he said finally. His voice was low now, almost shaking. “I don’t want another scene like this again.” His gaze moved from Aiden to Jacob, then to Caleb. “Do you hear me? Fix it.”
He turned and walked away. The sound of his footsteps faded slowly down the hall.
No one moved for a while.
Mrs. Chavez let go of my wrist at last and dropped my bag on the floor with a thud. She was clearly angry but she didn’t say a word, she just turned and walked away.
Caleb rubbed his cheek, the red mark standing out against his pale skin. “Go back to your room, settle back in, and get to work.”
It was a command and I dared not object. I picked up my bag and headed to my room.
Somehow, it was satisfying to see Malcolm Lancaster lose control like that—the mighty man everyone feared, his voice shaking because of someone he called an ordinary maid.
I didn’t know who killed Clarita. I wasn’t even sure if any of the brothers did. But one thing I knew was true—Malcolm Lancaster knew something. He knew who it was. And he was shielding them. Maybe it was his sons. Maybe it was someone else entirely. But he knew.