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“That’s not your concern,” I replied evenly.
I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. “Listen to me, Elara. Stay away from the Sterling family. They’re dangerous–especially Arthur. His reputation—”
Once we were alone, Alistair’s false smile dropped. “When were you planning to tell us you married Arthur Sterling?”
She wasn’t confused. She understood perfectly.
Before I could respond, Fiona materialized beside us, Alistair in tow.
“Yes, I was thinking about this emerald dress.” Fiona gestured to the very garment Mrs. Sterling had been admiring earlier. “It would complement your coloring beautifully.”
Fiona recovered more quickly than our father. “There’s clearly been a misunderstanding,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “We’re actually here to select a gift for you, Mrs. Sterling. For when we officially welcome you to the family.”
Fiona’s smile didn’t waver. “Oh, I’m sure Elara wouldn’t mind. After all, it’s quite expensive, and we all know her… financial situation.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I said quietly, showing her the blue silk dress we’d admired earlier. “They’re… complicated.”
Arthur’s arm remained firm around my waist. “Price is no object for my wife,” he said, his voice controlled but cold. “Whatever she chooses for my grandmother is acceptable.”
“I want to help you choose a beautiful dress,” I said instead.
My stomach twisted. Of course Fiona would choose the exact dress Mrs. Sterling wanted. Even when she didn’t know what she was doing, she managed to take what
others desired.
Despite everything, I smiled. There was something refreshing about Mrs. Sterling’s bluntness.
As they finally left, purchases in hand, I felt myself deflate. Mrs. Sterling squeezed my
arm.
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“We’ve chosen a gift as well,” she announced, holding up the emerald dress. “For when you visit the Dubois estate.”
“Caleb? Yes, dear. Tonight? Oh, I’d forgotten… Yes, yes, we’ll be there.” She hung up, her expression unreadable.
She patted my hand. “You’re deflecting, but I’ll allow it. For now.”
“I insist,” Arthur said, surprising me. His eyes met mine, communicating something I couldn’t quite decipher. “Choose whatever you like.”
To my surprise, he did. “You don’t understand the world you’ve stumbled into. The Sterlings, they destroy people. And you? You’re nothing to them. Just a temporary
distraction.”
I stared at the check–thirty thousand dollars. The amount was insulting, both in its presumption and its inadequacy when compared to the wealth of the man he believed to be my husband.
His words struck deeper than I wanted to admit. “I’m nothing to you either, so what’s the difference?”
Mrs. Sterling’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so? How thoughtful.” Her tone suggested it was anything but.
I tensed. “I don’t think we have anything to discuss.”
I nodded, grateful for the excuse to step away from this excruciating confrontation. As I guided Mrs. Sterling toward the other side of the boutique, I heard Arthur smoothly excusing himself, leaving my father and Fiona standing there.
“Everything all right?” Arthur asked, studying my face.
Alistair’s expression hardened. “Fine. You want to play in their world? Go ahead. But don’t come crying when they chew you up and spit you out.” He thrust the check at me again. “Take this. Consider it the last thing I’ll ever give you.”
Alistair turned to me, his expression suddenly conciliatory. “Elara, perhaps we could speak privately for a moment?”
“I know exactly who it was,” she cut me off, her eyes suddenly sharp and clear. “Caleb. My great–grandson. The one engaged to that dreadful girl we just met.”
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As I helped Mrs. Sterling try on the blue dress, I caught glimpses of Arthur across the store, standing tall and imposing, effectively blocking Fiona and my father from approaching us. His presence felt like a shield–one I’d never had before.
He joined us, his expression softening slightly as he looked at his grandmother. “You look lovely.”
Mrs. Sterling studied me closely. “And what do you want, dear?”
“A lovely choice,” Mrs. Sterling said, her face unreadable. “Though I believe Elara was helping me consider it first.”
“Keep it,” I replied coldly. “I stopped needing anything from you a long time ago.”
“Please,” he insisted. “Just for a minute.”
Before I could respond, she was already pulling out her phone again. “Arthur, help me with this. I need to send a message.”
“Nothing has changed. I’m still the same person you’ve ignored for twenty–five years.”
Alistair stepped forward, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “Mrs. Sterling, we’d be honored to host you. And of course, Arthur and… Elara would be welcome too.”
“They’re rude is what they are,” she replied tartly. “That girl, your stepsister? I’ve met vultures with better manners.”
Mrs. Sterling looked at the dress, then at Fiona. “How presumptuous of you to assume I’ll be visiting.”
“Mrs. Sterling,” Alistair stammered, “I had no idea-
Fiona’s smile faltered. “As Caleb’s fiancée, I thought—” ́
I almost flinched at the word “wife,” even knowing it was just for Mrs. Sterling’s benefit. Still, his support warmed something inside me that had been cold for a very long time.
“Good. Save your tears for things that matter.” She looked up as her phone began to ring. “Would you answer that for me? My hands are full.”
The way he hesitated before my name spoke volumes. For my entire life, I’d been an afterthought to him–a burden, an embarrassment.
I stood frozen, watching the color drain from my father’s face as he realized his
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mistake. The satisfaction I should have felt was buried beneath layers of shame and hurt–all too familiar emotions when it came to Alistair Dubois.
“Don’t let them get to you, dear,” she said quietly. “People like that aren’t worth your
tears.”
Against my better judgment, I nodded. “Excuse me,” I murmured to Arthur and Mrs. Sterling before following my father to a quieter corner of the boutique.
Arthur stepped closer, helping her navigate to her voice messages. Mrs. Sterling cleared her throat and spoke clearly into the phone:
“And she’s coming to my house tonight,” Mrs. Sterling continued, her voice hardening. “Bringing that… that viper into my home.”
“Us? There is no us, Father.” The word tasted bitter on my tongue. “You made that clear
years ago.”
“She’s always been like that,” I admitted, running my fingers over the silk. “Fiona gets what Fiona wants.”
The question caught me off guard. What did I want? Peace? Freedom? To be valued for once in my life?
The dig was deliberate, designed to remind everyone of my status–the poor relation,
the charity case.
“Actually,” Mrs. Sterling interjected, “I think I prefer the blue one we saw earlier. The emerald would clash terribly with my complexion.” She turned to me. “Elara, dear, would you show me that blue dress again?”
I took her phone, noting the name “Caleb” on the screen. “Hello?”
I nodded stiffly. “Perfect. Are we ready to go?”
“I don’t need anything,” I said.
My blood ran cold as understanding dawned. Mrs. Sterling must have seen my
expression change because she took the phone from me.
Before I could protest, Arthur was already signaling a saleswoman. Fiona watched the exchange, her expression darkening with each passing second.
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“Grandmother?” a male voice said. “It’s Caleb. I wanted to remind you that Fiona and I will be stopping by tonight. She’s really looking forward to meeting you.”
“Those people.” Mrs. Sterling muttered once we were out of earshot. “The nerve.”
“Well, this has been enlightening,” she finally said. “I look forward to getting to know my new… brother–in–law better.” She cast a malicious smile in my direction. “Perhaps we should have a family dinner soon. To properly welcome Elara to her new station.”
“Take it, he insisted, pushing the check toward me. “It’s the least I can do after… everything.”
The implication was clear–she intended to expose what she surely believed was my deception.
“Dear grandson, I’ve just been mistreated! You must come home tonight and stand up for me!”
“What a lovely idea,” Mrs. Sterling said before either Arthur or I could respond.
“Though I’m afraid our calendar is rather full at the moment. The burdens of running a multi–billion–dollar company, you understand.”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “This changes things, Elara.”
“Clearly,” Mrs. Sterling cut him off, her voice sharp as a blade. She leaned heavily on her cane, but her spine remained straight, her gaze unwavering. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were in the middle of something.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” She smiled. “Arthur, come see!”
“Nonsense.” She turned to Arthur. “Your wife deserves something beautiful. That burgundy gown we saw earlier would be perfect.”
“It suits you perfectly,” I told Mrs. Sterling as she admired herself in the mirror.
“Let go of me,” I said quietly, dangerously.
“My great–grandson hasn’t mentioned any engagement,” Mrs. Sterling said coolly.
“Of course I do,” she said matter–of–factly. “Now, what about something for Elara? A husband should spoil his wife occasionally.”
“How generous,” Arthur replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But we have prior
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rommitments.”
“Mrs. Sterling” 14 began carefully, “that was-”
“Embarrass you?” I laughed bitterly. “That’s rich, coming from you. I’ve spent my entire life trying not to be an embarrassment, trying to be good enough. No more”
“After what? After letting your wife abuse me? After watching Fiona humiliate me at every turn? After pretending I didn’t exist unless it was convenient?” I felt years of suppressed rage bubbling to the surface. “Keep your blood money. I don’t need it.”
“Not my concern?” he hissed. “You married into one of the most powerful families in the country and didn’t think to mention it? Do you have any idea how this makes us
look?”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “That’s really not necessary-”
“I don’t want your money.”
I walked back to where Arthur and Mrs. Sterling were waiting, head high despite the trembling in my hands. Fiona stood nearby, her eyes narrowed as she watched me
approach.
Fiona’s smile froze. “Of course. Another time, then.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” he snapped. “You’re married to a Sterling now. There are expectations, appearances to maintain. You can’t embarrass us—”
“I’m not crying,” I assured her, though my throat felt tight.
Mrs. Sterling touched my arm gently. “What about your dress, dear?”
Alistair reached into his jacket and pulled out a check. “I was going to give you this later, but now seems appropriate. Consider it a wedding gift. Or a dowry, if you prefer.”
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