Chapter 6

An hour later, Elizabeth Davenport was walking out of a police station.

The station had been cold, but she was colder. She had signed the statement against Tobias Grim with a hand that didn't shake once.

She pushed open the doors of the Davenport Mansion. The living room was a war room.

Stephen was pacing, his face a distorted mask of purple rage, while Freya huddled on the sofa, playing the role of the terrified witness for her parents.

Evelyn sat beside her, her posture rigid, her eyes burning with the same storm.

After that fight, the cops were called, God knows who called them, Stephen exclaimed, and they took that foolish girl to the station.

Elizabeth didn't stop.

She walked across the marble, not sparing them a glance as she headed for the stairs.

Stop right there.

Stephen surged forward, his chest heaving.

You stupid girl. You hurt Tobias and his men, and you have the audacity to call the cops?

You will go to that hospital, you will get on your knees, and you will beg Tobias for forgiveness.

Elizabeth stopped at the foot of the spiral staircase.

He forced himself upon me, Dad, she said, her voice a low, lethal vibration.

If you're worried about the Davenport name, you should have thought about that before you left me alone in a room with a predator.

You ungrateful brat. Evelyn shrieked, rising from the sofa. We raised you!

Freya chimed in. Mr. Tobias would never stoop so low. If anything, I think you were the one who made a move on him, and when he refused, you created this entire scene.

Elizabeth turned. Then slowly she let the light of the chandelier hit the angry, red welts on her arm, the physical proof of their betrayal.

The ones who raise don't abandon and use a child as they please.

And if anybody ever tries to bonus me away again, Tobias Grim won't be the only one in the ICU.

She walked up the stairs, leaving a trail of stunned, terrified silence behind her.

Below her, Freya's face twisted into something ugly and sharp.

The Davenport diva was realizing that the girl from the countryside hadn't come home to join the family.

She had come home to burn it.

Down.

Stephen stepped toward her as if he wanted to strike her, but Evelyn stopped him.

Not now. We need her.

Freya moved straight toward them, worry clear in her eyes.

Dad, Mom.

Is it true? Did Elizabeth really hurt Mr. Tobias?

Stephen lowered himself onto the sofa and nodded, his face wrought with worry.

He's in the hospital. The doctor says he will need to stay in the ICU. I am trying to get the police to close this case as well.

Freya reached out and took his hand, her grip firm and steady. Dad, don't panic. A friend of mine is the police chief's son.

I will get the case dropped.

Within a few calls, she spoke to her connections and secured assurances that the case would disappear quietly.

Pride rose in Stephen's chest. No matter the situation, Freya always found a way to solve it.

Freya sighed. Dad, this is...

It's my fault. I should never have suggested that she accompany us. I never expected Elizabeth to react like that. She has been in the countryside for so long, she has probably forgotten proper behavior. I pity her.

Evelyn's anger flared again. She crossed her arms tightly.

I feel sorry for her, but does she feel sorry for us? She attacked someone. If she had even half your sense, we would not be facing this mess.

She turned toward Freya, her expression softening with concern.

How many times have I told you not to be so kind? You keep thinking about her, but she has never once thought about this family.

She made you sick when you were younger. And now she drags us into trouble again. She brings nothing but misfortune.

Freya squeezed her hand and smiled. Ma, if this situation spreads, the D'Arcys will find out, and we'll be the ones to hear about it. That is a problem we do not need.

Let's hush this up for now.

Evelyn's shoulders dropped slightly. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

Stephen leaned back slowly.

Freya is right. We cannot let this situation escalate.

Evelyn swallowed her anger and said nothing more.

While the Davenports were trying to deal with their own mess, Elliott D'Arcy was being wheeled inside the house at the D'Arcy estate, the scent of alcohol clinging to him.

Mrs. D'Arcy set aside her nail file and rushed to her feet. She moved toward him with quick steps, her hands already reaching out.

Elliott, you're back. What happened? Where have you been? She took his hands in hers and gasped. Your hands are all bruised.

Did you get into a fight? Elliott?

Elliott lifted a hand and pressed his fingers to his temple, fatigue weighing on his face.

I am fine.

You do not look fine. Where is Conor? Is he not with you?

Elliott leaned back and exhaled slowly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. He held it out toward her.

Happy birthday.

Mrs. D'Arcy took the box, her eyes lighting up. She opened it and froze for a moment when she saw the emerald necklace inside.

Her hand flew to her chest. This is beautiful. You remembered my birthday, my dear son. You always think of me.

Elliott rubbed his forehead and signaled to the butler.

I have a headache. I need to get to my room.

Mrs. D'Arcy followed him, worried.

Veronica D'Arcy, Elliott's sister-in-law, stood at the staircase, watching the entire exchange between Elliott and his mother with a scowl.

She turned and walked back to her room. The door opened with a sharp push as she stepped inside and glared at her husband, Julian D'Arcy.

Your mother is unbelievable. We give her a limited edition ruby set, and she barely reacts.

The cripple brings one necklace in a plain box, no name, no brand, just some infinity symbol stamped on the lid, and suddenly he is her best son.

She scoffed. Julian was Elliott's older brother.

A plain box with just an infinity symbol? He raised a brow. That sounds like Infinity.

They don't stock shelves. No retailers, no catalogues. Every single piece is custom made, and they only take a handful of clients a year.

His eyes narrowed slightly. Can he even afford that?

Veronica dropped onto the sofa, clearly frustrated.

Of course he can't. I'm pretty sure it's a fake. But no matter what, she praises him for everything, as if we do not exist.

At this point, I almost question whether you are even her son.

Julian turned a page calmly, his expression unchanged.

Aside from our parents' affection, what does he have once they are gone? What will remain for him?

Veronica's irritation eased as she considered his words.

She paused, then leaned closer with a faint smile.

He still has that marriage contract. Everyone talks about it.

Julian's lips curved slightly.

Do you believe Freya Davenport would willingly marry him?

Veronica tapped her finger against her chin. She cannot break the engagement publicly without humiliating her family.

Julian smirked, and Veronica immediately leaned closer. What is it?

Julian's gaze sharpened.

I've heard the Davenports brought back an adopted daughter from the countryside. She is older than Freya.

Veronica frowned. What does that change?

Julian folded his hands together.

The original engagement was with their eldest daughter.

Veronica's eyes widened. You mean...

Julian gave a slight nod.

The Davenport diva will never be his. Elliott will rot in the countryside with a girl who smells like dirt and desperation.

He adjusted his glasses, a faint trace of mockery in his gaze.

A perfect match. It's poetic, Julian.

Veronica laughed. A cripple and a hick. The D'Arcy Black Hole married the Davenport dumpster.

Veronica leaned back against the sofa, satisfied.

Do you think your parents will agree?

He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone calm and steady.

They know he is a cripple. They chose to indulge him anyway by marrying him off to the most eligible girl.

They're reaping what they've sown.

Veronica crossed her arms and smiled to herself.

I suppose we just sit back and watch. They think he will go back to being successful. They're in for a shock.

Karma really is a bitch.