CHAPTER 13
1337 Words
—Madeline—
I looked out the window as the car rolled across the streets before slowing in front of a tall glass building.
My driver opened the door for me like royalty.
Inside, everything screamed old money and quiet luxury. Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Mannequins draped in gowns worth more than my yearly salary as a 911 operator.
Staff bowed their heads when I passed. Everywhere I went, the Morvanti name moved ahead of me before I could even speak.
And I hated how quickly people treated me differently because of it. They had no idea what I was enduring in the mansion.
“Mrs. Morvanti,” a voice called.
I turned and instantly recognized her. A six-time award-winning designer known for creating custom pieces for wives of politicians and wealthy elites.
She approached with a warm smile, silver pins tucked between elegant fingers.
“Hello,” I breathed.
“We’ve been execting you.” She gestured. “This way, please.”
She guided me into a private fitting suite lined with mirrors and racks of exquisite clothing.
Silk.
Velvet.
Hand-beaded evening gowns.
The kind of things women wore when they belonged to worlds built on power and secrets.
“Mr. Morvanti has ordered a dress fitting for a welcome party this weekend.”
“Can I have something just simple?”
Her polite smile never faltered.
“No, Mrs. Morvanti. For a welcome party, you need clothes that signal status and elegance. And the family's image.”
Of course. I had no say in it.
Just the decorated wife who must do as told.
“Shall we begin?”
I forced a smile.
She led me to a platform. I stepped onto it while she circled me with a measuring tape.
Bust.
Waist.
Hips.
Assistants rolled in trays of shoes and jewelry.
Then I heard it:
“Little Bird.”
I spun so fast the measuring pins spilled across the marble floor. The assistants froze, their eyes locking on me with curiosity.
The designer blinked. “Is something wrong, Mrs. Morvanti?”
My heart pounded in my ears.
There was no one.
No Dominic. Only mirrors reflecting my shaken expression from every angle.
God. I hadn't just been fantasizing about my stepson.
“No. Please, continue.”
I turned to the mirror in front of me, fingers trembling. She finished taking my measurements, and I tried on different shoes and jewelry.
The moment I got home, I searched the mansion. But there was no sign of Dominic anywhere.
I even had to stop a housekeeper. “Have you seen Mr. Dominic Morvanti?”
Her answer came in negative. “No, ma'am.”
My shoulders sagged.
“Thank you,” I said and stepped aside, listening as her footsteps faded down the foyer. Then a cloying perfume hit my nostrils.
I flung around and saw her standing on the other end of the hallway.
Elisa.
“You're back, Madeline.”
She descended the stairs, a hand lazily gripping the rail like she had all the time in the world.
“Same as you.”
“You don't seem happy to see me?”
“Elisa. It's been a long day and I would like to rest.”
She blocked me from passing.
“You broke our truce, Madeline,” she said through gritted teeth. “We agreed that you wouldn't let Androa into your bed.”
My hands clenched.
“First of all, we had no truce. Secondly, I didn't get him into my bed.”
She stepped closer. “Yes. But the bed is not the only place couples make out, Madeline, and Androa was in your room for too long. Do you want to tell me nothing happened between you two?”
I burst into laughter.
“You? A mistress is trying to box me around in my own home?”
A guard stepped into the foyer.
“Mrs. Morvanti?” he called, voice calm. “You have a visitor.”
I froze. “A visitor? Who?”
“Your father,” he replied.
Elisa hissed.
“Sooner or later, you'll realize I'm the only who's got your back in this mansion, Madeline.” She walked past, her shoulder brushing mine. “And you'll regret betraying me.”
The woman was unhinged.
How had I betrayed her?
She offered me one last smile before disappearing into the nearby hallway. My stomach twisted.
I turned and the guard was still waiting for me. But I couldn't move. Not immediately. I gave myself a few more seconds before nodding.
“Please, lead the way.”
The sun was awash in molten gold, already sinking behind the estate. I stepped onto the terrace and there was him— standing there with that familiar big smile.
“Maddie?”
He always called me that when I was ten years old.
Tears pricked my eyes.
My feet moved before my mind could catch up.
I dashed into his arms and held him tightly. Despite everything, I missed him. He was the only person who saw through me. The only person who had stood by me in difficult times.
“Hello, Father,” I mumbled as I straightened.
“It's so good to see you, my dear.”
We shared a smile. I took his hand.
“Come with me.”
The tea house was cool and quiet, scented by the flowers in the vases. A kitchen staff member served us tea.
“Are you sure you don't want food, papa?”
“Oh, this is food, Maddie.”
A chuckle escaped me. “I know. I was talking about a three-course meal.”
“Well, this is okay.” He turned to the staff member. “Thank you, lady.”
We watched her leave, the wind blowing her skirt as she headed back to the mansion.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I'm fine. What about you?”
He sighed. “The house is lonely without you. Other than that, everything's fine.” He stared at the mansion. “How's life as a Morvanti Lady?”
My smile faltered for a beat, before I tightened it again.
Should I tell him?
That I knew he gave me out with his entire life savings probably because he was ashamed I was unmarried at my age.
“Very fine.” I reached for my tea. “Just as I expected.”
He beamed. “I knew Mr. Morvanti would make a good husband.”
“You did?”
He looked at me and nodded.
“How did you know?”
He set down his cup slowly. “Is everything okay, Maddie?”
I didn't realize tears were streaming down my face until one dropped on my lap. Quickly, I grabbed a napkin and wiped my face.
No. I can't tell him.
If he found out that I knew— it would break him. Because he had sacrificed everything for this marriage. Genuinely believed he was saving my future.
I couldn't hate him for it.
“Y-yes, everything is fine.” I lowered my cup and rubbed my temple. “I just have a headache.”
He sat straighter, eyes wide with that fatherly love.
“Should I fetch Androa? Do you want to see a doctor?”
My stomach turned at the mention of that name. He was the last person I would ever go to should I find myself in such a situation.
Dominic?
Warmth pooled between my legs.
I sniffled. “No. No. It's not that serious.”
We watched the sun dip below the horizon, and I walked him to his car in the driveway.
I sat alone at the dinner table while Elisa and Androa ate in her room, courtesy of her imaginary illness.
The next morning, I was alone at the breakfast table when a familiar scent filled the room.
I looked up just as Dominic walked into the room, loosening his cufflinks with a maddening calm.
“Miss me, Little Bird?”
- Writer
