The night swallowed the chateau's taillights as Eleanor's ride share sped away, the driver's sympathetic silence a small mercy.
She clutched her phone like a lifeline, the gravel drive receding into the dark countryside, but the insults echoed louder than the engine's hum.
Barren. Career focused. Defective. Vivian's voice slithered through her mind. She praising Sophia's youth, her glow, her eagerness to play broodmare.
While Julian flirted shamelessly, his hand on that girl's knee, his laughter a knife twist.
And Victor's grunt of approval, the Voss bloodline's purity over her shattered worth. Six years of marriage, reduced to a punchline in their opulent salon.
Tears pricked her eyes, hot and furious, but she blinked them back, staring at the passing headlights on the autoroute.
