Chapter 3
1050 Words
So this is the boy’s father.
Celeste’s fingers tightened slightly as she watched him from the car window.
Tall. Commanding. Handsome.
In her past life, she had heard his name whispered in exclusive circles, spoken with either reverence or fear. He was a man of absolute power, someone who could make or break dynasties with a single word. But never, not once, had she known he had a son.
And worse, she had gone against him for Victor.
A bitter taste coated her tongue at the memory. She had once thought Victor was her salvation, only to realize he had used her as a pawn. Now, sitting in the back of the luxury car, driving through the gates of the Moreau estate, she knew the truth.
This time, she would not be a fool.
Her heart clouded.
Not with fear, but with resolve.
The Moreau estate loomed ahead, grand and imposing, its pristine white pillars standing tall against the morning sky. It had once seemed like a dream, but only she knew it was a battlefield masked with luxury.
As the car rolled to a stop, the doors to the estate opened, and out stepped Lilith.
Dressed in a delicate white gown, her soft curls cascading over her shoulders, she was the picture of an elegant socialite. Her kind, gentle facade was perfectly crafted, her every move designed to elicit trust and admiration.
Lilith’s eyes landed on her, and for a moment, a flicker of jealousy crossed her face. Then, with a sweet smile, she spoke.
“Sister, why didn’t you wear the dress I sent?”
Celeste gracefully stepped out of the car, the expensive fabric of her new dress shimmering under the sunlight. The design was elegant, the kind of luxury only a select few could obtain.
She turned to Lilith, her lips curling into a cool, almost amused smile.
“Ugly”
Lilith’s smile froze.
For a split second, her kind and virtuous mask almost fell through.
Celeste swept past her, her heels clicking against the marble steps as she entered the estate. Behind her, Lilith remained standing outside, her nails digging into her palms.
That dress…
There were only ten of them in all of Y City.
And she had barely managed to get one.
How?
How had Celeste gotten her hands on something so rare?
Lilith forced a smile back onto her face, swallowing the bitter taste of frustration. With a deep breath, she followed Celeste inside, her mind already racing.
She would not let this country bumpkin steal the spotlight.
Inside the grand halls of the Moreau estate, Lilith had already crafted a plan. She would humiliate Celeste, make her look unrefined and uncultured.
The perfect opportunity presented itself when they reached the drawing room. Sitting at the head of the ornate seating area was Grandma Moreau, the matriarch of the family.
Lilith smiled sweetly and stepped forward.
“Grandma, Celeste has been in the countryside all her life. She must not know proper etiquette—”
But before she could finish, Celeste moved with effortless grace, stepping forward and lowering herself into a deep, majestic bow.
Her posture was flawless. Her movements exquisite.
The room fell silent.
Lilith’s mouth went dry as she watched Grandma Moreau’s eyes light up with approval.
The warmth in the old woman’s gaze was subtle, but it was there. And for Celeste, that was enough, for now.
But not everyone in the room shared that sentiment.
A delicate gasp echoed through the hall, followed by a slow, measured voice laced with false concern.
“Celeste, you managed to learn etiquette just to impress Grandma?”
The voice belonged to Eleanor Moreau, Celeste’s stepmother.
She moved with calculated grace, her richly embroidered dress flowing behind her as she approached. To an outsider, she was the picture of elegance, a kind and nurturing mother. But Celeste knew her hidden motives.
That warm smile on her lips? It was just a mask.
Her stepmother’s gaze flicked over her, and then, right on cue,she gasped dramatically, her expression twisting into one of exaggerated disbelief.
“And this gown… Who gave it to you? Did you steal it?”
A hush fell over the room.
Celeste could almost hear Lilith’s smug intake of breath, waiting to see her cower.
She didn’t.
Instead, she turned to face her stepmother fully, her lips curling into a slow, mocking smile.
“Stepmother, I bought it myself.”
The words were simple, but the confidence in her tone was undeniable.
Celeste sneered in her heart
Does she think I’m still the naïve fool who let them trample over me?
Her stepmother barely faltered. With the ease of a seasoned actress, she smoothed out her expression and let out a light, almost pitying laugh.
“Oh, Celeste, I was only worried. You’ve lived in the countryside for so long, I only wanted to ensure you weren’t misled.”
Good teachings. Kind words.
For a brief moment, Grandma Moreau’s face hardened.
Celeste knew exactly why.
Her grandmother did not like her.
The moment she had been found and brought back, the old woman had barely spared her a glance. To her, Celeste wasn’t a granddaughter to be cherished, she was a pawn.
Someone to present at the right time, to marry off to a powerful man for the benefit of the Moreau family.
And yet…
Celeste’s etiquette had been impeccable. Her poise undeniable.
Grandma Moreau would not allow her stepmother to humiliate her openly.
The old woman straightened, her tone sharp.
“Celeste, is that how you speak to your mother?”
Celeste let out a quiet chuckle, her eyes dark with amusement.
“Mother?” Her voice was soft, almost amused. Then, tilting her head slightly, she added, “Heh. You mean a mistress?”
Eleanor's expression twitched
Even Lilith tensed, her nails digging into her palms.
“Celeste!” Grandma Moreau’s voice cracked like a whip.
Celeste lowered her lashes, feigning a repentant bow.
“Forgive me, Grandmother. My tongue slipped.”
The old woman’s sharp eyes lingered on her for a long moment before she finally let out an irritated sigh.
“Enough.” She waved a hand. “You must be tired from your journey. Maid, send her to her room.”
Celeste didn’t resist.
- Writer
