Chapter 6

Adrian’s Mother’s POV

Claire Voss slammed the door behind her daughter, Isabella, who ran out of the house like a frightened rabbit. Alone in the living room, the echo of the door reverberated through the house until it was swallowed by the shrill voice of the evening news.

Her eyes darted to the television. And there it was her family name flashing across the screen in bold, ugly letters. The camera replayed the humiliating scene from last night: her daughter-in-law, Zara, stumbling, awkward, completely disgracing herself in public. The reporters didn’t even try to soften their words “embarrassing,” “classless,” “shameful.”

Claire’s lips curled in disgust.

“So this is why she came into my family?” she muttered under her breath, voice trembling with rage. “To ruin us… to mock the Voss name. If she thinks she can embarrass me, embarrass us then she’s about to learn what Claire Voss can do.”

With a sharp flick, she turned off the TV, unable to endure another second of the humiliation. But the silence was short-lived. Her phone erupted, vibrating violently against the glass coffee table. One call after another society friends, business partners, even her old rivals everyone calling to gossip, to laugh at her family’s downfall.

Claire clenched her fist until her nails bit into her palm. Each ring of the phone stoked her fury, each mocking voice burned her pride. By the time she threw the phone aside, her chest heaved with wrath. She could not wait for morning. Zara would pay.

Zara’s POV

For Zara, the night had been cruel, but sleep came like a mercy, pulling her away from the ache in her chest. When she finally stirred awake, sunlight was bleeding softly through the curtains. She blinked and turned to her side Isabella lay curled up next to her, breathing gently.

Zara’s lips trembled into the smallest of smiles.

“Oh, my dear…” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from Isabella’s face. “Like the sister I never had.”

That warmth lasted only a moment before the cold truth settled back into her heart. The humiliation of the night before clung to her skin like smoke, impossible to wash away. Her body felt heavy, her mind bruised, but she pushed herself out of bed. Life had to move forward, no matter how shattered it felt.

She showered quickly, the water masking the quiet sobs that escaped her throat. By the time she came downstairs, she forced her hands steady as she reached for the pots and pans. Cooking had always soothed her a small act of love she could still control in a world that had stripped her of everything else.

She made breakfast for Isabella, adding a little more sugar to the tea than usual, hoping it would brighten the girl’s morning. As she plated the food, her phone buzzed on the counter.

Her stomach dropped when she saw the name.

Stepmother.

Zara’s hand trembled as she picked up.

Before she could speak, her stepmother’s voice erupted, venomous and loud:

“Is it your mission to ruin this family? Are you so desperate for attention?”

Zara froze, pressing the phone tighter to her ear.

“I know you didn’t walk into that marriage on your own will, but you’re here now, so the least you can do is respect us. If I hear one more bad thing about you if I hear one more whisper of shame I swear I’ll kill myself!”

The line went dead.

Zara lowered the phone, her throat constricting. A tear slid down her cheek, then another. She whispered bitterly to herself,

“Instead of asking me how I am… instead of asking how it even happened… this is what I get.”

Her knees felt weak, but she forced herself upright, clutching the edge of the counter. She wiped her tears quickly, just as footsteps thundered from the hallway.

The door burst open.

Claire Voss stormed in, her eyes blazing like wildfire.

Zara’s breath hitched. Panic crawled up her spine. She quickly wiped her cheeks and rushed forward, forcing a fragile smile.

“Mother, you’re a ”

The words never finished.

SLAP.

The sound cracked through the room like lightning.

Zara’s head whipped to the side, the sting of Claire’s hand burning across her skin. Her body went rigid, her eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, the entire house seemed to fall silent.

Her hands trembled as she slowly touched her cheek.

“Mother…” she whispered, voice breaking.

Claire stood towering over her, chest rising and falling, her face twisted with fury.

“You dare smile at me after shaming my family in front of the entire city? You dare walk into my home and act like you belong here?”

Zara’s lips quivered, but no words came out.

Claire took a step closer, lowering her voice into a dangerous hiss.

“You may have fooled my son into marrying you, but you will never never be a Voss. You hear me? If you think last night was the end, you are wrong. It was just the beginning.”

Zara’s breath caught in her throat, her body shivering as fear and humiliation crushed her. She opened her mouth to speak, but Claire suddenly grabbed her wrist, her nails digging into Zara’s skin.

“You will regret ever stepping into this house.”

Just then, heavy footsteps sounded on the staircase. Both women froze, heads snapping toward the sound.

Adrian’s voice echoed, firm and commanding:

“Mother. What are you doing?”