Chapter 2
Victor’s frown deepened.
First he marveled at how raspy her voice had become; then her cool, distant “President Whitmore” stirred an inexplicable irritation inside him.
He stared at her scant clothing, ready to ask why she had come out dressed like this, but the annoyance in his chest made the words stick in his throat.
She used to spot him from afar and fly into his arms, chirping “Victor” with giddy delight; now she wouldn’t even look at him, pretending indifference as she called him President Whitmore.
Victor wondered, ‘What’s that supposed to mean? Does she resent me for sending her to the boot camp back then, or is she scheming again?’
He said in a low voice, “Elena Bennett, are you putting on this act deliberately for my benefit?”
Elena parted her cracked lips, her face eerily calm. “I wouldn’t dare. Where’s my brother? I was told he’d be the one picking me up.”
A maid informed her in a hushed voice, “Your brother went out with Annie to pick out a necklace.”
The icy wind froze Elena Bennett’s face to the point of numbness; a faint twitch only made her pallor harsher.
‘So he’s accompanying Annabelle,’ she realized.
Makes sense-Julian stopped being my brother a long time ago.’
She thought of the man who had once crossed half the country in a blizzard to beg a famous doctor for her cure, yet later slapped her so hard she lost hearing in one ear-simply because she’d broken Annabelle’s favorite vase.
When her thoughts returned to the present she still kept her head bowed.
Victor Whitmore gave her a frosty once-over and said, “Seems the reformatory did an adequate job. Remember the lesson: once you’re back with the Bennett family you’re still their Eldest Miss, and our engagement still stands.”
“Eldest Miss Bennett?”
Elena’s eyes remained lowered, unreadable; inside, her heart felt colder than the snow beneath her shoes.
She was no heiress now. A year of beatings and humiliation had sanded every edge from her, leaving only a numb shell.
Victor noticed her thin clothing and could hardly fathom how she stood motionless in weather ten degrees below freezing.
He frowned. “Why are you still standing there? Get in the car.”
Head down, she whispered, “President Whitmore, my clothes are filthy. I’ll dirty your seats.”
Victor’s brow tightened even more. He snapped, “Elena, ever since you walked out you’ve worn that corpse-face at me. What exactly do I owe you-
“-Feel wronged by the past year? You’re merely paying for the mistake you made twelve months ago.”
Elena stood like a marionette, silent and submissive-nothing like the vibrant, confident woman she used to be.
“No,” she answered without looking at him.
Disgusted by her lifeless manner, Victor ground his back teeth. “Get in!”
He climbed in first and slammed the door so hard the rush of air nearly knocked her over.
Elena pressed her lips together. After a brief hesitation she walked to the car, opened the front passenger door without a pause, and sat in the seat beside
1/2
Chapter 2
the driver
The assistant stared, slack-jawed, yet dared neither speak nor start the engine.
Miss Bennett really had become a different person after one year away.
Her action enraged Victor completely; loosening his tie did nothing to quell the fire in his chest.
What was that supposed to mean-too proud to sit with him now? Back then she clung to him constantly. He’d come personally to fetch her, yet she was putting on airs.
After two seconds of restraint, Victor flung the door open again, yanked Elena’s wrist, and dragged her out.
She fell hard into the snow.
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.