The face off

THE COLE MANSION

“The Cole mansion? Why did you bring me here, Miss Cole?” Ivy asked in a confused tone while looking around, her heart is beating faster than ever.

The Cole mansion wasn’t just a house, it was a statement.

“You ask too many questions, but…” She said, looking back at her with a deep frown, “You seem… familiar somehow.”

Ivy blinked. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Velvet tilted her head, studying her. “Perhaps not. But there’s something… in the way you smile.” Her voice dropped slightly, almost as if speaking to herself. “You smile like… An old friend.”

Ivy frowned, “I don't think I know anyone such…”

Velvet’s expression smoothed instantly, the warmth gone. “You don't need to worry about it. Listen to me.”

But her tone was weighted.

“Yes, ma'am?” Ivy asked in confusion, shaking her head to get that thought out of her head and focused on Velvet.

“You have to meet someone else before you can meet Asher.” She said, in her usual cold tone, making Ivy more nervous.

Velvet’s black town car glided silently along a winding driveway lined with manicured hedges and towering oaks. The sprawling estate ahead rose in pale stone and glass, every window polished to perfection. Ivy could see her own reflection in the car window, pale and uncertain.

Velvet glanced at her, noting the way Ivy’s hands were clenched in her lap. “You look like you’re heading into battle,” she said lightly.

Ivy swallowed. “Isn’t that what this is?”

Velvet’s lips curved faintly. “I brought you here to meet my mother, Asher's grandmother. She is the leader of the group. My mother is fair, Ivy. But she’s also perceptive. She doesn’t tolerate lies or weakness. If you want her to take you seriously… speak plainly. Don’t try to impress her, she’s seen everything.”

“That’s… comforting,” Ivy murmured.

The car came to a smooth stop before the grand entrance. The doors opened to reveal a foyer with polished marble floors, the kind that reflected the crystal chandelier overhead. Dark wood paneling ran along the walls, hung with oil portraits of Coles from generations past, stern men in tailored suits, women draped in pearls and power.

Ivy couldn’t shake the feeling that their painted eyes followed her as Velvet led her inside.

They found Mrs. Margaret Cole in the sunlit salon, seated in a high-backed chair by a tall window that framed the gardens beyond.

Her silver hair was styled in an elegant twist, her pale blue eyes sharp yet calm. There was a quiet authority in the way she sat, as though the entire house revolved around her presence.

“Velvet,” she greeted warmly, setting aside a book. Her gaze shifted to Ivy, assessing. “And who is this young woman you’ve brought me?”

“This is Ivy Marlowe,” Velvet said smoothly. “She came to the Cole Group today, looking for Asher. I thought it best she spoke to you first.”

Mrs. Cole’s expression didn’t change, but her interest deepened. “Ivy Marlowe,” she repeated, as though tasting the name. “Come, sit. Have tea.”

Ivy sat on the delicate chair opposite her, trying not to look as out of place as she felt.

The table was set with fine china, the scent of Earl Grey mingling with warm scones and lemon tarts.

Mrs. Cole poured tea, her movements practiced and graceful. “You have a face that seems… familiar to me,” she remarked, studying Ivy closely. “Like someone I once knew.”

Ivy looked at Velvet for a quick second as a deja Vu hit her. Velvet said the same thing a few hours ago. Ivy offered a polite smile. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Mrs. Cole leaned back slightly. “Perhaps not. But faces have a way of reminding us of the past.” Her gaze sharpened subtly. “Now, tell me, Ivy, what brings you to New York? And to my grandson?”

Ivy hesitated, fingers tightening around the porcelain cup. She felt Velvet’s eyes on her too.

“I…” She drew in a breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Mrs. Cole’s movements still, but her expression did not falter. She set her teacup down, her eyes locked on Ivy’s. “And the father?”

Ivy’s voice was steady despite her pounding heart. “Asher Cole.”

Silence stretched for a long moment.

Mrs. Cole’s voice was calm, but her tone deepened. “I see.”

Her eyes sharpened. “And your family? Do you have parents in New York?”

“No,” Ivy said quietly. “My father passed away years ago. My mother left when I was five years old. I don't know where she is. I… don’t have friends here anymore. Or a home. I grew up in an orphanage. I studied on a scholarship. In order to keep that scholarship, I never got the chance to make friends.” She blurted it all out in one go. She never felt this much pressure ever. She didn't know what to say.

Mrs. Cole’s gaze softened, though there was no pity, only quiet understanding. “So you are entirely alone.”

Ivy nodded, unsure what else to say.

Mrs. Cole leaned back but her posture was still straight, her voice thoughtful. “And yet you came here.”

Ivy met her gaze. “Because the child deserves more than I had growing up.”

For the first time, Mrs. Cole’s lips curved slightly, not in amusement, but in something closer to respect.

“I adore your honesty but I hope you know that it's not the first time someone claimed to be pregnant with the Cole heir?” Mrs Cole said, her eyes focusing more on her body language to catch anything that might give away any kind of lies.

Ivy clutched at that. She was just any other girl who slept with Asher and later came here.

“I understand, I'm okay with any kind of-...” She couldn't complete her words when they heard a sound.

The faint sound of a car engine outside broke the quiet. Moments later, the heavy doors of the salon opened.

Someone walked in, tall and composed in a tailored charcoal suit. His tie was loosened slightly, his presence magnetic, his expression unreadable, until he saw Ivy.

His steps slowed, his grey eyes flashing with surprise before they cooled into something harder.

“Grandmother,” Asher Cold greeted, then glanced at Velvet. “Aunt Velvet.” His gaze cut sharply to Ivy. “What’s going on?”