Chapter 6

The crackle of the fire was the only sound in the study. Estela stared at her son, her face a mask of fury, disappointment, and bone-deep exhaustion.

He had done it. He had threatened to burn the house down just to stay warm. He was willing to destroy the Burnett name, the legacy, everything, just to have his way.

She slowly lowered herself back into her chair, the fight draining out of her. She closed her eyes. "You threatened me just to expose your own son?a Burnett by blood,but he is an illegitimate child, did you really do something detrimental to the family just to achieve your own goals?" she whispered.

Baron didn't back down. "I am protecting my son. Jagger is a Burnett. The only real Burnett. He is more important than reputation."

The words hit Estela where she lived. She could lose the money, the power, the respect. But she could not lose the bloodline. She could not let the Burnett line die out.

Baron saw her hesitation. He pressed his advantage, his voice gaining strength. "When Gia gets here, we will show Frances what a real family looks like. We will document every misstep, every outburst. We will prove she is mentally unstable and unfit to raise a child."

He began to pace again, his movements sharp and animated. "Once everyone believes she is crazy, we will send her to the best sanatorium in Switzerland. She can 'rest' there for the rest of her life."

He turned to Estela, a cruel smile on his face. "Then, I will divorce her. And Gia will become the new Mrs. Burnett. The new mistress of this house."

In her room, Frances felt the blood drain from her face. Her fingers, resting on the arm of the chair, curled inward, her nails biting into the fabric.

A sanatorium. Switzerland. That was the fate they had planned for her. A living death. A silent, forgotten end.

She forced herself to breathe. In and out. Slow and steady. She would not panic. She would not be a victim.

In the study, Estela opened her eyes. The fire was gone, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. She had made a deal with the devil, but she would make sure she controlled the terms.

"Fine," she said, her voice like ice. "But she does not enter as Gia Hobbs. We give her an airtight identity. One that allows her to move freely and 'guide' Frances."

Baron's smile widened. "We can say she's an old college friend."

"Too easy to verify," Estela snapped. She thought for a moment, her mind racing. Then, a calculating gleam entered her eyes.

"The family trust is looking to acquire a new collection for investment and tax purposes," Estela said slowly. "Gia worked in a gallery, didn't she? She has the knowledge."

"She can be the family's 'art consultant'," Estela continued, the plan taking shape. "She will evaluate the collections and advise the lady of the house on her artistic taste."

It was perfect. It gave Gia a legitimate reason to be in the house, to attend meetings, and to lord over Frances under the guise of professional superiority.

Baron nodded, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Do it. I'll have her here tomorrow."

The conversation was over. The deal was struck.

Frances pulled the earpiece from her ear. Her hand was steady, but her heart was a drum in her chest. She walked over to her laptop and quickly uploaded the audio file to a secure, encrypted cloud server.

It was her insurance policy. It was her weapon. And when the time came, it would be the rope she used to hang them all.

The door opened softly. Phoebe slipped in, her face pale. She had been waiting in the hallway, keeping watch. "Ma'am?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What did you hear?"

Frances looked up from the computer screen. Her eyes were calm, a still pool hiding a riptide underneath. "Phoebe, get me my lawyer on the phone. Tell him the plan is a go."

She stood up, squaring her shoulders. "They want to bring the wolf to the door? Fine. But I'll be waiting with a loaded gun."

She wasn't going to sit back and wait for Gia to arrive. She was going to hit them where it hurt-right in the Burnett bank account. And she was going to do it before Gia even unpacked her bags.