Chapter 12
Then she screamed so loud my phone glitched.
Click. Call ended.
I looked at my phone, sipped my coffee again.
Lucien walked in, half–dressed and holding a protein shake.
He stared at me.
“Do I want to ask?” he said.
I raised my mug and shrugged. “Just a crazy ex–sister–in–law, mourning her dogs and her delusions.”
He sighed, already bored. “You ready for training?”
I grinned. “More than ever.”
EDMUND’S POV
The damn flight landed and I was already fuming. Should’ve been relaxed, sun–kissed, and grateful after a full week of champagne, yachts, and Elizabeth screeching every time a seagull looked at her funny. Instead? I was grinding my teeth halfway home because my phone had fifteen missed calls and all of them were about dead dogs.
What kind of woman kills a couple of great dane while her ex–sister–in–law’s off on a cruise?
I slammed the front door open with Lester and Loisa trailing behind me. The twins–Lyle and Nash–raced past us like wind, giggling. Too damn cheerful for the mood I was in.
“Doris!” I yelled into the marble foyer. No answer. Not even the scent of dinner waiting. Normally, by now she’d be humming in the kitchen, barefoot, pretending she didn’t hear me come in.
The place was… dead quiet.
Lester shrugged off his blazer like he owned the house. He’s got my temper, that boy, but none of my tact. “Maybe she ran, Dad. You did tell her Elizabeth called the cops.”
I waved him off and stormed through the ground floor. Checked the kitchen. Nothing. Not a single pot warm. No candles. No fresh towels in the guest bath. Even the coffee machine had dust on it.
I pulled out my phone. Still blocked.
Checked Loisa’s phone–also blocked.
“What the hell is this?” I muttered, scrolling through old messages that hadn’t even been seen.
Loisa sat down, rubbing her temples like she was about to cry. “You think she’s mad at us too?”
“She’s hiding. She always pulls this stunt when she’s guilty.” I dropped into the leather armchair and unbuttoned my collar. “She killed those damn dogs and now she’s sulking like a teenager.”
Just then, the twins came thundering down the hallway. Nash had one of Doris’s silk robes balled up in his arms.
“Grandpa!” Lyle yelled. “Grandma Doris’s stuff is all still in her room!”
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“She didn’t leave!” Nash added. “Her clothes are still there. All her perfumes too.”
I chuckled. Smug. Leaned back, laced my fingers behind my head. “See? I told you. Doris wouldn’t leave me. Not without a fight.”
Loisa looked at me like I was growing horns. “You really think she stayed after what Elizabeth
said?”
I snorted. “Doris loves drama. She’ll come crawling back soon as she realizes she overplayed her hand. Probably at the market now, buying that basil she likes. She’s dramatic but predictable.”
Just as I said that, the phone rang again.
Elizabeth.
God, that voice grated my skull. “Edmund! Edmund! She’s a murderer! My babies–my poor angels–they’re gone, and it’s HER FAULT. What are you doing about this?!”
pinched the bridge of my nose. “Calm down, Elizabeth. I told you, once Doris shows her face again, she’ll pay for it. I’ll make sure of that.”
‘She didn’t even text you, did she?” Elizabeth cried. “She’s a cold–hearted bitch. Edmund, she LAUGHED when I called her. Telling me, I’m the next.”
‘She’s gonna pay. I swear it.”
Then Lester flopped onto the couch with his phone in hand, smirking like the devil’s favorite
ntern.
‘Dad,” he said, “you might wanna see this.”
raised a brow. “What?”
‘Angelo Rossini. He’s hosting some big–deal auctions next two month’s night. Real high society. Word is he’s naming a new heir. Said he’s stepping down. Also…” He grinned wider. “He’s finall ntroducing that ‘mystery daughter‘ he’s been hiding for years.”
paused.
Blink.
My blood pressure twitched.
‘And you’re telling me this now?”
Lester shrugged. “Didn’t think it mattered. Until I saw the invite list.”
He handed me his phone and read the name. Hell shit! His name Edmund and Lester was really
on the list.
***
DORIS’S POV
Two months. That’s how long it’s been since I slipped out of that house like breath on glass. No note. No goodbye. No forwarding address. Just a silence sharp enough to slice through Edmund’s ego and leave him bleeding in his marble hallway.
In that time? I’ve been busy. While he paced in his silk pajamas wondering why dinner never came, I was having every pore in my body rebirthed in Rossini’s private spa. My skin glows now like I’m made of secrets. My posture? Engineered by a former ballet mistress who made me balance wine bottles on my head while reciting Italian power lineages. I’ve been shaped–not
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into someone new–but into the woman I would’ve become if they hadn’t buried me alive.
And yes, I remember Elizabeth’s tantrum texts. All seventeen of them. She actually had the nerve to threaten legal action after those mutts croaked.
Said she’d sue me for “emotional trauma.”
All because I sent her a condolence bouquet with a card that said:
“Too bad your dogs died. They deserved better. Honestly, you should’ve been the one cremated- leeches make great bonfire fuel.”
The delivery boy told Lucien she screamed so hard the vase shattered. Good.
Anyway.
Now here I am–Rossini’s private auction gala in Milan. Invitation–only. Old money only. Treachery dressed in diamonds.
The car door opened like a curtain unveiling war.
Blood–red satin. Slit to the hip. Gloves so black they might as well be mourning every man who underestimated me. My heels were sharpened enough to strike oil.
The flash of cameras felt like static crawling over my collarbone.
I stepped out slowly.
Like I owned time itself.
Someone gasped. Whispered behind their fan.
“Is that her?”
“Rossini’s heir?”
I didn’t smile. I didn’t even blink.
Let them guess.
Let them wonder how Edmund’s “cook” went from steaming rice to walking into the most powerful room in Europe like a crowned cobra.
Lucien was already waiting by the marble steps, dressed like sin and security in a dark suit tailored to ruin. He offered his arm. I took it with the kind of grace you train into bone.
‘Ready, principessa?” he murmured.
‘Born ready,” I said. “Let’s go make ghosts out of the living.”
And as we walked, I spotted them–just arriving at the valet.
Edmund.
Lester.
Loisa, and Elizabeth in tow like a mascaraed cockroach in heels too tight for her bunions.
