ELENA'S POV
I stayed on the playground longer than I intended, the creak of the swings mingling with my turbulent thoughts. Pain and anger churned within me, an endless cycle that replayed the moment the doctors and Allison told me my child was gone. My fists clenched as the memory tightened its grip on me.
Finally, I rose and made my way toward the house.
When I reached the compound, I froze. The house was almost unrecognizable—renovated, larger, grander. Strings of decorations adorned every corner, glittering under the afternoon sun. My stomach twisted as I stepped closer. There was an unmistakable hum of activity, the air buzzing with excitement.
Inside, it became clear: this wasn’t just a gathering. It was an event, the kind where people donned their best clothes and their most polished smiles. I felt their gazes on me, their scrutiny cutting like glass.
I moved through the crowd like a ghost, my faded jeans and plain T-shirt a glaring contrast to their designer gowns and tailored suits. Then I saw it—a massive banner hanging near the entrance. My steps faltered as my eyes landed on the smiling faces of Sophia, my stepsister, and Jackson, my ex-fiancé.
My breath hitched. They were getting married.
A bitter smile curled my lips as I took it in. So this is what they’ve been doing while I was left to rot. My father’s silence—it all made sense now. He hadn’t forgotten me; he had simply moved on, erasing me from his perfect new world.
I walked farther into the house, feeling every stare as though it were a physical weight pressing down on me. I passed strangers in clusters, their laughter echoing off the walls. The house felt foreign, no longer the home I once knew. Wealth and power radiated from every corner, a testament to my family’s rise in my absence.
But none of this mattered. My purpose was clear. As I passed room after room, a single thought burned in my mind: How do I take her down?
My stepmother had taken everything from me—my child, my future, my sanity. She had built her empire on lies, and I would make sure it crumbled beneath her. I would expose her, destroy her, and make her feel the emptiness she had inflicted on me.
“Lost?”
The voice came out of nowhere, deep and smooth, startling me. I turned quickly to see a man leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette in his hand. Smoke curled lazily around his sharp features, and though half his face was obscured by the angle, his piercing gaze locked onto mine.
“I…” I stammered, caught off guard.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “Looking for something?”
Before I could respond, a small voice called out. “Daddy!”
The man’s demeanour shifted instantly. He straightened, discarding the cigarette with haste as a little boy ran into view. The child flung himself into his father’s arms, and the tenderness of the moment struck me like a blow. My chest tightened, tears welling despite my efforts to hold them back.
“Ma’am?”
I blinked, realizing the boy was speaking to me. His innocent smile was radiant as he recognized me. “It’s you again!”
I managed a small smile. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Before I could say more, a woman appeared, her expression panicked. She glanced between the boy, me, and the man—who was the one in charge. I recognised the woman to be the same one who came together with another man to look for him at the park earlier.
“What’s going on? How do you know her, Noah?” the man demanded. His tone was sharp now, laced with authority.
“I met her outside earlier,” the boy said, oblivious to the tension.
“You went outside?” His father’s gaze shifted to the woman, and her face paled.
“I—I’m sorry, young Master,” she stammered. “He slipped away. I didn’t mean—”
“Enough,” the man snapped, his voice cold and final. He pulled out his phone, dialling quickly. “Morris, take Noah to the car. We’re leaving.”
Moments later, a man in a suit arrived and bowed. The boy waved at me as he was carried away. “Bye, Ma’am!”
“Bye,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. The man in a suit who carried Noah away was the same as the one who came together with the woman to look for Noah earlier at the park. Seeing him again made me confirm I wasn't mistaken...he indeed looked familiar.
And the Noah' Father must be the "Master Justin" he was referring to.
“You’re fired.” Justin’s icy declaration cut through the air like a whip.
The woman dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “Please, sir, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!”
“Sorry?” he echoed with a scoff, his fury barely contained. “You couldn’t manage him for one week!” His voice rose, sharp and unforgiving.
She flinched, trembling as sobs wracked her frame. Without another word, Justin turned and stormed off, leaving her crumpled on the floor.
I stood frozen, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me—sympathy for the woman, anger at his cruelty, and something else I couldn’t quite place. One thing was certain: Justin was a man who demanded control, and when that control slipped, even slightly, his wrath was terrifying.
And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to him than what I’d just seen.
I left her behind, knowing there was nothing I could do for her. Wandering, I entered a random room. It hit me then how foolish I’d been to think my old room would still exist in this place that no longer felt like mine.
After a quick shower, I sat down, letting the noise of the ceremony outside fade into the background. I couldn’t confront my stepmother now. She’d dismiss me as she always had, twisting the truth until I was the villain.
To defeat her, I needed power—more than she had. And right now, I was just a broken woman with no resources, no allies, and a reputation tarnished by years of silence and manipulation.
But I would find a way.
When I finally emerged, I spotted a group of maids and approached them. Their eyes scanned me sceptically, noting my simple floral dress.
“I’m looking for a maid named Jenny,” I said firmly.
One of them snorted. “Why? Are you even a guest here?”
“Tell her Elena is—”
Another interrupted me with a sneer. “Listen, we’re busy. Judging by how you look, there’s no way you belong here, so don’t waste our time.”
“How are we sure you’re not trespassing?”
I chuckled darkly, the sound hollow. “Did you just start working here? Haven’t you heard of the first daughter of this house?”
The maids exchanged glances, smirking. “The first daughter? The one who went crazy years ago? The one who cheated on her fiancé?”
“That’s me,” I said, my voice sharp as steel. “Elena Williams.”
Their laughter died instantly.
“Now,” I continued, my tone icy. “Get Jenny for me, or I’ll show you exactly what crazy looks like.”
They scrambled away, their disbelief etched on their faces.