Chapter 84
[Rose's POV]
Sunday morning arrived with the kind of silence that usually signals trouble.
The kitchen stood empty. No coffee brewing, no staff preparing morning meals, no familiar sounds of Alfred coordinating the day's activities. The dining room chairs sat abandoned, place settings undisturbed.
I followed the unusual buzz of voices to the living room and stopped in the doorway.
James sat in the center of the chaos like a general commanding troops, still wearing his silk pajamas and bathrobe. Three iPads lay spread across the coffee table in front of him, flanked by two iPhones. His reading glasses had slipped halfway down his nose as he squinted at multiple screens simultaneously, his fingers moving with surprising speed across touchscreens.
Around him, at least fifteen household staff members perched on various furniture pieces, each clutching a phone or tablet.
"No, no—type it like this," James instructed a young gardener hunched over a Samsung. "This accusation is preposterous! Tell them they're spreading vicious falsehoods!"
The gardener typed dutifully, though his expression suggested he had no idea what he was writing.
"Alfred!" James barked without looking up. "We need more devices. Check the storage room for any backup phones."
Alfred stood near the window, wringing his hands with the helpless expression of someone watching their employer march toward a cliff. "Sir, perhaps we should—"
"No time for perhaps!" James's eyes had gone bloodshot from staring at screens. "These people are attacking Rose's character. As her family, we cannot stand idly by."
A maid raised her hand tentatively. "Mr. Sullivan, should I mention the physics competition again?"
"Yes! Excellent thinking. Remind them she scored perfect marks. Use facts to combat their lies."
I stepped fully into the room. "James Sullivan."
The effect was instantaneous. Every head snapped toward me. Fingers froze mid-type. Even James looked up with the guilty expression of a child caught sneaking cookies.
"Mom, I—" He set down the iPad he'd been holding. "There were comments. Terrible things people were saying about your performance on the show. I couldn't just ignore—"
"How long have you been doing this?"
James glanced at his watch, then seemed to realize he wasn't wearing one. "Since the notifications started coming in. Around midnight."
Six hours. He'd been conducting his digital warfare for six straight hours.
I turned to the assembled staff. "Everyone, back to your regular duties. Now."
They scattered like pigeons, grateful for the escape. Alfred practically sprinted toward the kitchen, already issuing orders about delayed breakfast preparations.
James started to protest, but I held up my hand. "Hand them over. All of them."
"Rose, you don't understand. These people are spreading vicious lies about your talent, saying the show rigged your advancement, claiming—"
"Your health is more important." I approached him, lowering my voice. "You've been staring at screens for six hours. Do you want another episode?"
The reference to his heart condition made him wince. He knew I was right, even if he didn't want to admit it.
"They're attacking you," he said quietly, but began surrendering the devices. "As your son, I cannot simply stand by and watch them tear you down."
"I know." I collected the iPads and phones, stacking them carefully. "But fighting anonymous strangers on the internet isn't worth risking your health."
"Great-grandpa!"
Lily's voice rang out from the stairs. She stood on the landing in her princess nightgown, clutching her stuffed rabbit. Her eyes went wide when she saw the pile of electronics in my arms.
"Great-grandpa told me not to tell!" she announced with the brutal honesty of a four-year-old. "But he has two more phones charging under his pillow upstairs!"
James's face flushed scarlet. "Lily—"
"He showed them to me yesterday," Alexander added, appearing behind his niece with a smirk. "Said they were backup communication devices in case of emergencies."
I looked at James, who suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
"Alfred," I called toward the kitchen. "Please retrieve those devices from Mr. Sullivan's bedroom."
"I'll get them!" Lily bounded down the stairs, delighted to be helpful.
James slumped back against the couch cushions. "You're enjoying this far too much," he muttered to Alexander.
"Just doing my civic duty." Alexander dropped onto the arm of the sofa. "Can't have the family patriarch waging cyberwar without proper supervision."
"Traitor," James grumbled, but there was no real heat in it.
Lily returned triumphantly carrying two phones, which she deposited in my hands like precious treasures. "Here! I found them!"
"Thank you, sweetheart." I added them to my collection. "Now, James—you're grounded from all electronics for one week."
"Grounded?" He sat up straight. "I'm nearly eighty years old!"
"Then you should know better." I met his indignant gaze steadily. "No phones. No tablets. No computers. If you need to make a call, you can ask Alfred to dial for you."
Alexander let out a snort that he tried to disguise as a cough.
Christopher appeared in the doorway, already dressed in a suit despite the early hour. His tie hung loose around his neck, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. He'd clearly slept as poorly as the rest of us.
"Rose," he said, voice carefully neutral. "I can have Sullivan's PR team suppress the trending topics. Less than two hours, and the negative comments will be buried."
"We have connections with all major platforms," Alexander added, his entrepreneurial instincts kicking in. "Could have the whole thing scrubbed by noon."
I shook my head. "That won't be necessary."
"But—"
"I appreciate the offer." I set the stack of confiscated devices on the mantle, well out of James's reach. "But I don't need the Sullivan empire's resources to fight my battles. The show will continue, people will form their own opinions, and I'll succeed or fail on my own merit."
Christopher opened his mouth, then closed it again. He'd learned over the past weeks that arguing with me on matters of principle was futile.
"Now." I glanced around at my assembled family. "Since nobody prepared breakfast, I suggest we order from that bakery Alexander likes. The one with the ridiculous lines."
"Really?" Alexander perked up. "The one with the cronuts?"
"Order whatever you want. James is paying."
"I most certainly am not," James protested. "I'm grounded, remember? No access to my accounts."
"Then I suppose Alexander will have to put it on his card and you can reimburse him later." I smiled sweetly. "Consider it motivation to behave yourself."
The doorbell chimed before anyone could respond.
We all froze. Sunday morning visitors to Magnolia Estate were virtually unheard of, especially this early. Even family friends called ahead.
Alfred materialized from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "I'll see who it is."
Through the front windows, I caught a glimpse of a sleek Mercedes parked in the circular driveway. Not a car I recognized.
Alfred opened the door, and his professional composure slipped for just a moment before he recovered. "Good morning, Miss Brooks."
My jaw tightened. Of course.
Lauren stepped into view, perfectly styled as always. She wore a Chanel tweed suit in pale pink, her hair arranged in an elegant chignon. One hand held Madison's, the little girl dressed in what looked like a miniature version of her mother's outfit.
"Good morning, Alfred." Lauren's smile was warm and genuine, the same smile that had fooled Christopher for months. "I hope we're not intruding. I wanted to talk to Christopher, and Madison thought it would be nice to see Lily."
Madison held a beautifully wrapped gift box, ribbons cascading down its sides.
The living room atmosphere changed instantly. Alexander straightened from his casual slouch. Christopher's hand clenched around his coffee cup. Lily pressed against my leg, suddenly shy.
James rose from the couch, his face darkening. "That woman has the audacity to—"
He stopped mid-sentence, swaying slightly.
"James?" I moved toward him.
He pressed one hand to his forehead dramatically. "I got up too early this morning. Feeling dizzy. Very dizzy." His eyes met mine, and I saw the calculation there. "Need to lie down immediately."
I bit back a smile. My son, the business titan, was staging a tactical retreat.
"Alfred, please help Mr. Sullivan to his room." I kept my voice concerned, playing along with his performance. "Make sure he rests comfortably."
James allowed Alfred to take his arm, but not before shooting me one last look over his shoulder as they headed for the stairs. His expression clearly said: You're on your own with this one.
Lauren stood in the foyer, Madison beside her, both waiting for someone to acknowledge their presence.
Christopher hadn't moved. He stared at Lauren with an expression I couldn't quite read—hurt, confusion, anger, all tangled together.
The gift box in Madison's hands caught the morning light, its ribbons swaying slightly.
Nobody spoke.