CHAPTER TWO
1176 Words
It was too quiet at Ashbourne Manor. The silence seemed to reverberate through time with every creak beneath your feet. Emily entered the basement without intending to; it just sort of occurred. All she wanted was to escape Isabella and the inquisitive staff. Isabella, mostly.
It began with a door in the library's far corner, hidden behind a dusty shelf. Expecting a closet or even a storage area, Emily pushed it open. Rather, it exposed a slender staircase that curved into the shadows.
Naturally, she needed to descend.
Her weight made the stairs creak. A surge of cold air greeted her. As she reached the bottom, she held her breath and blinked to adjust her eyes to the dim light. She saw shelves crammed with thick books, letters, ancient photo albums, and folders filled with yellowed paper on every wall.
It all smelt like secrets and dust.
Why would they conceal all of this?
She ran her fingertips across the cover of an album. Smooth leather. Not touched. She flipped through pictures of stern, joyful faces—generations of Ashbournes—and opened it. She stopped after a few pages. She recognised a familiar name.
Harrington, Isabella.
The article appeared many years ago.
Emily drew the folder nearer and looked at the title:
"After a club incident, a party princess was rushed to the hospital—rumours of an overdose swirl."
Her gaze expanded. Security from a limousine assisted a younger Isabella, her hair dishevelled and makeup smudged, in the grainy image.
Another clipping suggested a covert stay at a posh rehab facility abroad. Others recounted stories of boisterous parties, postponed appointments, and even a courtroom brawl with another heiress.
Isabella not only has a dangerous past but also a wild personality. Nevertheless, nobody ever discussed it. Nothing.
Emily sat back, her heart racing. These were not merely historical scandals. They buried these landmines with care.
This is what they 've been concealing, then.
She surveyed the space. The walls themselves seemed to be holding their breath as the quiet closed in more forcefully.
The family shielded Isabella for all these years. They protected her even after she destroyed everything in her path. What about Emily? She received the same treatment in her own home.
Something murmured in her mind.
You could demonstrate. Make these visible. Let the world see her true self.
She did not, however, move.
She gazed intently at the folder. Then she carefully returned it to its original location.
The time is not quite right yet. This is not how it should be done.
I lose everything if I talk now. They still consider me silenced. Not hurt. I'll remain in the background for a bit longer.
One hesitant step at a time, she turned and started up the stairs.
---
After three days, Ashbourne Manor was bustling with activity. Housekeepers crowded the halls. Hour after hour came trays of champagne and unending bouquets of flowers.
Back in town was Isabetta Romano.
While feigning to read in the lounge, Emily heard Susan's announcement.
She is hosting a grand celebration. Susan whispered, "We're inviting the entire city." They claim that she will soon unveil a new jewellery brand. exclusive.
Emily remained silent. But she gripped the book more tightly.
Isabetta.
The name came to mind like a flashback. The memory of sunny afternoons spent at a craft came flooding back. The gentle rap of implements fills the air. The scent of silver melting fills the air. Her soft voice guides Isabetta's hands.
Emily had learned everything from her. Instead of treating her like a lost girl with the wrong last name, treat her like an artist.
Isabella was suddenly speaking as if they were closest friends.
Isabella flashed her best fake smile at Thomas and Margaret during brunch the following morning, saying, "Imagine having the Ashbourne name linked with Isabetta Romano's."
Thomas's eyes seldom left his paper. "Well? Yes, that's a smart concept.
Margaret grinned as if she had been anticipating this moment. "You ought to make an effort to meet her. For your brand, this can be the ideal collaboration.
Emily pretended to butter her toast while keeping her head down.
Emily wanted to reply, "She was my mentor." "I learned everything from her. Not you.
However, nobody was paying attention.
Isabella, wearing a dazzling dress and shoes that clicked like guns, strode down the hall that night while Emily stood by the stairs.
Without turning around, she screamed, "Don't come near her tonight." "I can do this."
Emily watched as she vanished into the crowd of visitors.
Already, the gala was in full force. The lights flickered. Cameras fired. All of the biggest names in fashion and art packed the ballroom at Isabetta's exclusive location.
Then something moved in the room.
She entered.
It was unnecessary for Isabetta Romano to speak. The throng fell silent at her mere presence. She swept back her silver hair. She wore a basic yet gorgeous dress. Sharp as ever, her eyes moved slowly and serenely throughout the room, as if she already knew where everyone was standing.
When Isabetta's eyes met Emily's, she froze.
There was a tiny smile on her face. Very little. However, it seemed to be everything.
Her heart fluttering, she nodded. She remembered what Isabetta had done.
Isabella was unaware.
Her phoney charm was already in full force as she marched across the floor.
"My name is Isabella Harrington, Miss Romano. You know, we're practically family.
"Are you?" Isabetta smiled coolly and asked. "How lovely."
As she draped herself elegantly, Isabella added, "I've always appreciated your work." "We have to work together. In addition to having the Ashbourne name behind me, I have ideas.
She sounded desperate, and Emily could hear it. Isabetta, though, remained composed. Her expression was silent. Her eyes spoke volumes.
She doesn't believe it.
Isabella persisted in her efforts as the evening progressed. talking excessively. I'm laughing too much. Ivy-like clinging.
Isabella stood motionless, blinking as if someone had just shut off the lights in her world as Isabetta eventually drifted away.
Once more, Isabetta crossed the room and went directly to Emily.
As if they had never been away, she added softly, "I was hoping I'd see you tonight."
Emily's throat tightened. "It has been a while."
"Are you still making things?" Looking down at Emily's hands as if they still held tools rather than wine glasses, Isabetta posed the question.
"In private. This is a temporary situation.
Isabetta gave a nod. "All right. The greatest things occasionally appear while no one is looking.
She gave Emily a light shoulder squeeze.
"If you ever need assistance... I'm where you'll find me. Don't allow them to depress you.
That night, Emily smiled for the first time. There was nothing more for her to say. Isabetta comprehended.
The visitors turned to watch the elderly woman as she drifted off, their eyes wide and their jaws relaxed.
However, Emily remained motionless, her heart thumping like a silent furnace.
The storm was approaching.
This time, she would be well-prepared.
---
- Writer
