Gilded Age Season 3 Novels & Stories

Then Mikey and Meme make their exit, followed by Danny and Brenda. Tension in the room grows again as we sit around the living room in silence. “So are we all having a slumber party here in the living room”, Gabe says as he slouches down on to the couch. “I call Lala”. Both Spencer and I glare at him, and Amory responds to the awkward situation by laughing all by herself. She then leans her head onto Gabe’s arm and he lifts her engagement ring from her chest and looks at it before saying, “I remember when Spin bought this”. Spencer sits up straighter while glaring at his brother, who adds, “I thought he was crazy when he spent half a million dollars on an engagement ring, but you're worth sp

The moment she saw the mark on his face, she lunged forward, grabbing my handbag and shouting at the top of her voice. “My brooch! My sapphire brooch is gone. You stole it!” The accusation exploded through the café. Every head turned. Victoria immediately faced the crowd, her voice breaking into dramatic sobs. “Everyone, look at her. She couldn’t trap my son, so now she’s stealing from me. That brooch was an anniversary gift from my husband. It’s worth over two million dollars.” Lily covered her mouth, eyes wide, the picture of shock, though the satisfaction beneath it wasn’t entirely hidden.

They laughed so hard until they began struggling to breathe and had to lean against the wall to catch their breath. Tears of mirth spilled down Claire's face. "All of us know that you used your looks to seduce those rich men into giving you their money, Lily. It's fine if you want to lie to us, but don't try to fool yourself." "Fine." I didn't feel upset at all. On the contrary, my body suddenly felt incredibly light. I knew that Gilded Ages would never have achieved such tremendous success within three years without me. I had built it from the ground up, turning it into a massive business using my connections and skills.

Briarcrest exhaled in the dark, with footsteps in distant halls, whispers threading through walls, a low mechanical thrum beneath it all. She rose quietly. Down staircases meant for staff. Through a door that should have been locked, but wasn’t. The room beyond was circular, windowless. Screens lined the walls, glowing with shifting data. Merit scores. Influence rankings. Projected futures. Nyx’s name flashed briefly. Calder, Nyx. Provisional. “So it’s not enough to live in my house,” a voice said softly. “You have to trespass on my secrets too.” Nyx spun. Alaric stood in the doorway.

But I refused to be weak and break down and cry anymore. I opened the door ever so slightly so I could see them properly. Miranda was seated on the couch, her head craned to meet Bradley's gaze, who was standing in front of her. His hands were in his pocket, his eyes boring into hers. “We still have to be careful,” he growled. “Whatever. Just don't forget our deal,” she said, raking her hands up his torso. “You get the Amsterdam Empire's hidden treasures and I get Leon all to myself.”

Which brings us back to where we started. The third wedding. The moment everything changed. Standing at the altar in my white silk gown, watching Miles's face change as his assistant burst through the doors. Feeling my grip tighten on his wrist as he tried to leave. Hearing him say those words again: "Valeria has no one else. I have to go to her." But this time was different. This time, something inside me didn't just crack—it shattered completely. Because as Miles walked away from me for the third time, as I stood there listening to the whispers and feeling the pitying stares, I finally understood something crucial that I should have seen years ago:

"Just look at how shabby she is. She probably barely makes anything all year. Not like Rosalie, who’s about to become a manager at a big company." The group of women around her burst into sharp, grating laughter. "Oh my God, who even tries to fool their mother-in-law with fake gold these days? That’s unbelievable." My nails dug deep into my palm. The edge of my phone pressed hard against my skin, but I felt nothing. Just then, my phone vibrated. A message from my mother, Mikaela Thornton, popped up. Only one short line: "You’ve made it to your in-laws’ place, right? It’s the holidays. Keep the peace. Do more, say less."

"I’m announcing it tomorrow at the gala. Bianca will be by my side. You can have the bakery and enough money to disappear. Just sign them and don't make a scene." He headed upstairs without waiting for an answer. Ivy sat in the dark. She didn't cry. Instead, she reached into the hidden pocket of her oversized sweater and pulled out a sleek, gold phone. It was much thinner and more expensive than the one Julian had bought for her. She pressed a button. "Grandfather," Ivy said. Her voice was no longer soft. It was sharp and cold. "The three years are up. He just handed me the papers." "Good," an old man’s voice answered. "The St. Claire private jet is landing in an hour. Your teams are ready.