Untitled Episode
1392 Words
The morning sun spilled through the tall windows of the breakfast room, golden and soft, as if it hadn’t witnessed the chaos of the night before. The table was already set—fresh fruit, croissants, French-pressed coffee, and perfectly cut mango slices placed just so. A housekeeper quietly refilled her glasses.
Mia arrived last.
She walked in calmly, dressed in sleek black slacks and a white blouse—sharp, clean, almost corporate. No makeup. No performance. Just poise.
Gregory looked up from his paper. “Morning, sweetheart,” he said, a little too lightly.
Claire sat across from him, stirring her tea with quiet grace. Evelyn was beside her, flipping through her phone like she wasn’t tracking every movement in the room.
Mia offered a thin smile and slid into the seat opposite Claire.
Silence stretched thin across the table.
“I was just saying,” Evelyn began, setting down her phone with a practiced smile, “we should probably start looking into press releases. The transition will make headlines, and we want to get ahead of the story.”
Mia took a croissant and broke it in half with her fingers. “Of course, "Nothing screams stability like throwing your most loyal daughter under the bus.”
Gregory lowered his paper. “Mia—”
“I’m fine,” she said, almost too smoothly. I’ve accepted it. Claire is the future, right?”
Claire looked up. Her voice was syrupy and sweet. “Mia, I hope you don’t think I wanted it this way. "I would’ve stepped aside if I knew it meant so much to you.
Mia gave her a look. “You did know. But it’s cute that you’re still trying the innocent act.”
Gregory cleared his throat. “Let’s keep this civil.”
Mia’s eyes didn’t leave Claire. “I am being civil. I haven’t thrown anything. Yet.”
Evelyn laughed softly, like they were joking. “Let’s not ruin a perfectly peaceful morning, girls.”
Mia leaned back in her chair. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to ruin anything. I’m just… observing. Watching the show.”
Claire set her cup down delicately. “If you’re going to accuse me of something, at least say it out loud.”
“Oh no,” Mia said, tilting her head. Not yet. You see, I’ve learned a lot about timing lately. You taught me that.”
The room froze for a moment.
Gregory looked between them, uneasy. “I have meetings. "I trust you’ll all be… polite while I’m gone.”
He stood, adjusted his blazer, and left the room.
The moment the door shut, silence dropped like a curtain.
Claire dropped her smile instantly. Her expression flattened into something cold, sharp.
“You’re not fooling anyone with your calm act,” she said, her voice low and venom-laced. “You’re seething.”
Mia slowly turned to her, eyes narrowing. “And you’re gloating. But not for long.”
Evelyn leaned back, arms folded. “You’re out, Mia. Accept it. Grasping now only makes you look pathetic.”
Mia’s voice was ice. “I built this family’s reputation from the inside out while you both played house and whispered in corners. The only reason Clara looks capable is that she’s wearing my reflection.”
Claire’s eyes sparked. “You were always too loud. Too desperate to prove yourself. That’s why you lost.”
Mia smiled without humor. “No, Claire. I lost it because I didn’t realize the snakes were already in the garden.”
Evelyn’s tone turned mocking. “And now what? Will you sulk in the shadows and plot revenge? That’s not who you are.”
Mia stood, smoothing her blouse, calm as ever. “No. I’ll wait. You’ll both fall under the weight of your own lies. And when you do, I won’t even have to push.”
Claire stood too, her voice rising. “You think you scare me?”
“No,” Mia said, stepping closer, voice low. “I think I know you. I see the cracks already forming.”
The door creaked open again—another maid bringing in fresh plates.
Instantly, Claire plastered her smile back on.
“Mia,” she said brightly, “don’t forget we have that family board dinner next week." It’ll be fun to catch up again.”
Mia returned the smile, hollow and sharp. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Mia reached for her water glass, but Evelyn’s voice stopped her mid-motion.
“Sit down.”
Mia looked at her, then she realised it was only both of them left.
Evelyn stood slowly from her seat, smoothing her blouse with sharp precision. Her eyes were harder now—no longer the elegant, refined matriarch, but the woman behind the throne. The enforcer.
“You’re going to stop this little rebellion you’ve been brewing,” Evelyn said coolly. You will smile at board dinners. You will applaud when Claire speaks. You will behave as if this was always the plan.”
Mia arched a brow. “Or what? You’ll glare at me harder?”
Evelyn stepped closer, dangerously close, and hissed, “Or I’ll make sure you’re erased. From the company, from the press, from his memory. Don’t test me, girl.”
Mia didn’t move. “You forgot something, Evelyn. You may have my father wrapped around your silk-covered fingers, but I still know where all the skeletons are buried. Some of them you even helped dig.”
There was a pause.
Then, without warning—
SMACK.
Evelyn’s hand connected with Mia’s cheek, sharp and clean. The sound echoed through the dining room like a gunshot. Claire flinched but didn’t interfere.
Mia staggered slightly, catching herself on the chair, eyes wide—but she didn’t cry out. She didn’t crumble.
She touched her cheek slowly, then looked up at Evelyn with a terrifying calm.
“Do it again,” Mia whispered, “and I’ll bury you with the others.”
Evelyn’s expression didn’t change. “You have no power here anymore.”
Mia tilted her head. “That’s what makes me dangerous. I have nothing to lose.”
But Evelyn held Mia’s gaze a second longer before stepping away, straightening her pearl necklace like nothing had happened.
“I expect to see you smiling next week,” she said, walking off. Make yourself useful. Or make yourself invisible.”
“Don’t push me,” she said quietly. “ I bite.”
Mia looked at her, her cheek still red, but her spine unshaken.
“So do I.”
Evenly hesitated. Then left.
Mia stood there alone, the taste of blood faint in her mouth—but her eyes clearer than they’d been.
The silence in the room was deafening.
The glow from the hallway didn’t reach her here. Just the soft flicker of a single lamp beside her bed, and the distant sound of a clock ticking. Outside, wind brushed against the windows like it wanted in. But inside—it was just her.
Mia stood by the mirror again. This time, she wasn’t angry.
She was tired.
The adrenaline from the morning confrontation had faded. Her hands still shook slightly, even though she kept them hidden in the pockets of her robe. Her cheek still ached, but that wasn’t what stung most.
She touched the skin gently, watching her reflection wince.
She’d stood up to Evelyn. She’d stared Claire in the eye. She’d said the sharp, clever things she was supposed to say. She’d sounded fearless.
But now, alone, she didn’t feel like the powerful girl she had pretended to be.
She sat slowly at the edge of her bed, her shoulders slumping like the weight of the entire house had settled on her back.
Her eyes burned. She blinked fast. Then slower.
Still, the tears came.
Not loud sobs. Not the kind anyone would hear through a door.
Just quiet, steady drops running down her cheeks. As if her body was finally admitting the truth her mind had tried to outrun it.
She felt weak.
Not just because she lost the company.
But because she had poured everything into the company.Because Evelyn had slapped her like she was still a child. Because Claire had won—and she didn’t even have to fight for it.
What was left for her now?
- Writer
