CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
580 Words
Chapter Twenty-eight
The morning sun slipped through the blinds, landing softly across Briella’s face. She stirred, groaning quietly as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. Sleep had been shallow, broken by flashes of memory—the sound of Marcellus’s voice, the warmth of his hand on her wrist, the way he had smiled when she whispered Marci.
Her eyes snapped open at the thought. She hadn’t meant to call him that. The name had just slipped, like a secret she had guarded for too long finally bursting free.
Briella sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. “What are you doing to yourself?” she whispered, frustrated at how easily her emotions wavered when he was near. She had promised herself she would be professional, distant, unshaken. And yet…
The memory of his words from last night tugged at her chest. If you’ll let me… I’ll spend whatever time I have left proving to you that I’m not going anywhere again.
A lump formed in her throat. She wanted to believe him, wanted to give in to the comfort of those promises. But trust was fragile, and she had learned long ago how easily it could be broken.
Pushing herself out of bed, Briella decided she would bury her feelings once more. She would face him today with the same cool professionalism she had mastered over the years. At least, that’s what she told herself as she dressed for work.
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Meanwhile, across the city, the Tristan mansion brimmed with tension.
Jennifer sat at the head of the long dining table, her fingers wrapped around a porcelain teacup, though she hadn’t taken a sip. Edward read the newspaper idly, his expression calm but unreadable. Kendrick, on the other hand, paced like a caged lion.
“She humiliated us,” Kendrick muttered under his breath. “At the graveyard, in front of him. If we don’t act soon, she’ll think she’s untouchable.”
Jennifer’s eyes flicked to her son. “And what would you have us do? March into her office? Drag her reputation through the dirt?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Kendrick slammed his hand against the table, rattling the cutlery. “Why not? She deserves worse.”
Edward finally lowered the newspaper. His calm voice cut through the room like a blade. “Rashness is for fools, Kendrick. And last I checked, we are not fools.”
Jennifer leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a sharp smile. “Your father is right. We won’t charge head-on. That girl has built herself into something stronger than before. But even strong towers can be shaken if the foundation is chipped away.”
Kendrick frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jennifer’s eyes gleamed. “We won’t attack her directly. We’ll make her question herself. Chip at her confidence. Create whispers. Subtle doubts. Let the cracks form from within, and when she’s weak enough, then we strike.”
Edward folded the newspaper neatly. “Exactly. Patience will be our greatest weapon. She won’t even see it coming.”
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Back at her own home, Briella slipped on her blazer, her reflection staring back at her from the mirror. Her lips pressed into a thin line, determination clouding her eyes. She would not let emotions derail her—not today.
But somewhere deep inside, a quiet unease lingered.
And far across town, in the Tristan mansion, plans were already set in motion.
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✨ End of Chapter Twenty-eight ✨
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