Chapter 3 3

The security system chimed a soft, melodic tune.

Eleanor and Arthur Holcomb walked into the apartment, bringing the chill of the autumn storm with them.

Ansley stood beside the massive dining table. Her palms were sweating. She forced her spine straight and offered a stiff, polite greeting to her adoptive parents.

Eleanor unclasped her fur shawl and handed it to the housekeeper. Her sharp, critical eyes scanned Ansley from head to toe. It felt like an X-ray designed to find flaws.

Arthur didn't even look at her. He gave a dismissive nod and walked straight to the head of the table. He sat down and immediately opened his iPad to check the NASDAQ index.

The four of them sat around a rosewood table large enough to seat twelve. The physical distance between them was vast, but the tension in the air was suffocating.

A maid served the first course of cold appetizers. The sound of silver forks scraping against bone china echoed in the quiet room. It made Ansley's heart beat too fast.

Eleanor cut a tiny piece of foie gras. She didn't look up from her plate.

"So," Eleanor drawled slowly. "How many days do you plan to stay in New York this time?"

Ansley put her fork down. She took a deep breath. She looked directly into Eleanor's cold eyes.

"I resigned from my job in Geneva," Ansley said evenly. "I am staying."

The air in the dining room turned to ice.

Arthur's finger stopped mid-swipe on his iPad screen.

The fake smile vanished from Eleanor's face. She dropped her fork onto her plate. The silver hit the porcelain with a loud, sharp crack.

"Who gave you permission to throw away your career in Europe?" Eleanor's voice was shrill and piercing.

Ansley's stomach twisted into a painful knot. She forced herself not to look away.

"I am twenty-three years old," Ansley said. "I have the right to decide where I live."

Arthur finally looked up. His eyes were flat and cruel.

"You will not bring any uncontrollable risks to the reputation of this family," Arthur warned, his voice heavy with authority.

Eleanor sneered. "It took us five years to bury those disgusting rumors you caused. You have no right to come back here and ruin things again."

All the blood drained from Ansley's face. The memory of five years ago hit her like a physical blow. Her fingers grabbed the linen napkin on her lap, twisting it into a tight knot.

Across the table, Emery suddenly moved.

He slowly placed his silver knife and fork down onto his plate.

The metal made a soft, deliberate click against the bone china. The sound was so quiet, yet it sliced through the tension like a guillotine blade.

Everyone froze.

Emery looked at his parents, the gentle smile completely wiped from his flawless face. His voice was low, but the pressure behind his words was crushing.

"Ansley will stay here as long as she wants," Emery stated.

Arthur's face turned purple. He slammed his hand on the table. "You spoil this girl too much! She is not your blood! I am your father, and I say-"

"I am the current CEO of the Holcomb conglomerate," Emery cut him off. His eyes locked onto his father's, completely devoid of respect. "Do not forget who signs your dividend checks, Father."

Arthur's mouth snapped shut. His chest heaved, but he couldn't form a single word. Emery had hit his weakest spot.

Eleanor quickly tried to smooth things over. Her voice softened, but the venom was still there.

"Emery, darling, be reasonable," Eleanor pleaded. "Her staying here will only complicate things with Brigette. Your engagement is too important."

The word engagement hit Ansley right in the chest.

Her lungs stopped working. The air was sucked out of the room. Her heart squeezed so hard it physically hurt.

Emery's jaw clenched tight. A muscle ticked in his cheek. He glared at his mother.

"Do not discuss my private life at this table," Emery warned darkly.

Ansley couldn't breathe. She pushed her chair back violently. The wooden legs scraped against the marble floor with a horrible screech.

"My stomach hurts," Ansley whispered, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. "Excuse me."

She turned around and walked as fast as she could without running. She fled the dining room.

She rushed down the hallway and practically threw herself into the guest bathroom. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

She leaned her back against the solid wood. She opened her mouth and gasped for air.

Outside, the muffled sounds of Eleanor's angry shouting and Emery's cold laughter bled through the walls.

Ansley walked over to the marble sink. She turned the cold water on full blast. She cupped her hands and splashed the freezing water onto her face, trying to wash away the burning pain in her chest.