Elodie's POV

Nicholas reached out and playfully scratched Valerie’s nose.

“All yours,” he said softly, like she was the only thing that mattered.

Then he turned to me, all business.

He ordered, “Elodie, you’re in charge of the wedding. Doesn’t matter what it costs. Just make it grand, luxurious, and tasteful. Just make sure Valerie’s happy.”

Valerie beamed like she’d just been crowned queen of the universe. Her smile was so smug I could practically see it dripping down her chin.

“I heard you were some kind of arranged bride for the Vanderbilts?” she said, cocking her head with fake innocence. “Seriously? In this day and age? People like you still exist? You’re basically a walking relic from the feudal era.”

Valerie gave me a slow once-over, her tone turning syrupy-sweet. “Unlike Nicholas, I’m not going to baby you or let you freeload.”

“But hey, since you did sponsor me back when I was a nobody, I’ll let you stick around.” She then waved a hand vaguely. “You can be the maid. Or maybe housekeeper. Something humble.”

Behind me, Jessica let out a sharp snort. “You’re not even officially a mistress yet. Let alone a wife. Who do you think you are, acting like you own the place?”

Valerie held up her hand like she’d just won Wimbledon, flashing the diamond ring like it meant something.

“Unlike you freeloaders, I’m Nicholas’s one true love,” she announced. “I manage his schedule, help with the business, and take care of him. I’m useful. That’s more than I can say for any of you.”

Valerie leaned in, eyes sharp as knives. “But hey, I’m not stingy. As long as you play by my rules, I’ll throw you a bone. After all, without this family’s money, you gold-diggers wouldn’t last a day.”

With one eyebrow raised, she then haughtily ordered, “Move my bags to my room. I’m off to a candlelit dinner.”

She hooked her arm around Nicholas’s and strutted out like she owned the place, leaving the rest of us staring at each other, mouths slightly open.

Finally, Cressida broke the silence. “What’s she so proud of anyway? That diamond ring’s smaller than mine.”

Rebecca, ever the calm voice of reason, handed me a thick folder.

It was the Vanderbilt Group’s latest financial report.

“She has no idea,” she said coolly. “We’ve been draining Nicholas dry for years. There’s barely anything left.”

Rebecca smiled wryly before adding, “And the company? It’s been bleeding money for years. Bankruptcy’s just around the corner. That big fancy wedding she’s dreaming of? Not happening.”

I shrugged. Honestly? Not my circus anymore.

I was officially divorced. Whatever Nicholas and his new ‘true love’ did from here on out wasn’t my business.

What was my business?

Figuring out how to enjoy my filthy-rich, freshly single life.

Step one: buy a private jet.

Step two: plan a world tour.

...

I was halfway through packing when Valerie stormed into my suite, grabbed my suitcase, and flung it straight over the balcony.

A splash echoed from the pool below.

“I told you this room is mine!” she snapped. “Move your stuff to the maid’s quarters!”

Then, as if she were already Nicholas's wife, she directed, “Oh, and while you’re at it, clean this place up and make me a pour-over. And don’t forget to apologize.”

I looked her up and down, ice-cold. “There were two Himalayan salt blocks and a Patek Philippe in that suitcase. How exactly do you plan to compensate me?”

Valerie blanched. A flicker of panic crossed her face, but she covered it fast with another round of theatrics.

“I’m going to be the new Mrs. Vanderbilt,” she said stiffly. “Everything here belongs to me. You’re the ex-wife! What right do you have to ask for anything?”

Right then, Lisa entered through the doorway, her lawyer’s license shining as she smirked.

“Correction,” she said. “You’re not Mrs. Vanderbilt yet.”

Crossing her arms, Lisa retorted, "So what’s it gonna be? You paying up, or do we go to court and let the press have a field day before your big white wedding?”

Valerie’s face cycled through a stunning rainbow—pale, flushed, red, then a weird blotchy in-between.

She ripped the necklace off her neck and tossed it in front of me. “Nicholas bought this at a Paris auction. Designed by a world-renowned artist. Enough?”

I glanced at it, then shifted toward Hannah.

Hannah rolled her eyes, clearly tired of wearing hand-me-downs.

After all, Valerie was the only one treated like royalty.

She scowled, then fished a bank card out of her clutch.

“There’s $2 million on this,” Valerie haughtily said. “That and the necklace should cover it, right?”

I didn’t say a word. Just shook my head slowly.

Her hands curled into fists. Then, with a visible grimace, she slid the ring off her finger.

Finally. Now we were talking.

Elodie's POV

When I still didn’t flinch, Valerie finally lost it.

“Elodie, don’t think I don’t see through you. You're trying to squeeze money out of me on purpose. You know you’re past your prime, and about to be kicked out of this house, so you’re fishing for a last payout.”

She turned to James, the butler, and snapped, “Call the police. Charge this woman with extortion! Let’s see her rot for it!”

But no one moved. Not James, not the other staff in the villa. They just stood there like statues.

Rebecca, always composed, calmly held out the appraisal certificate in front of Valerie, a half-smirk playing on her lips.

“That was a Grand Complication from Patek Philippe—minute repeater, master-level, $210 million.”

She gave Valerie a once-over, clearly unimpressed. “You’ve been clinging to Nicholas for this long, and you still have no clue about luxury? Pathetic. Honestly, those diamonds? I wouldn’t even stick them on a toilet.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Nicholas had spent the past few years lost in his little world of romance and indulgence. He had no idea that the empire he believed he ruled, the properties, the antique collections, and the investments had already been divided among us.

Rebecca handled finance. Jessica ran medical. The rest of the sisters spread across various industries.

We all had our piece.

And once we pulled out?

The Vanderbilt empire would collapse overnight.

The shareholders knew this, too, and that’s why they came to me. They wanted my final decision tonight on what to do with the family’s future.

Unaware of what was truly happening, Valerie was so angry that she couldn't speak. Realizing she couldn’t win against us, she turned her gaze to the maid who had just salvaged my luggage.

Without a word, she slapped her hard across the face, right in front of everyone.

“How dare you help her?! Do you even see me as the future Mrs. Vanderbilt?”

James tried to intervene but got shoved aside by a furious Valerie.

She glared around at all of us, rage simmering in her chest, before storming off with a dramatic door slam.

Of course, she didn’t forget to toss out a threat on her way out. “You’ll all pay for this!”

I knelt and gently helped the crying maid to her feet, slipping a bank card into her hand as compensation.

Then I turned to James with a few calming words. "It's alright, James. Don't worry."

He looked touched, almost overwhelmed.

James expressed, “Ms. Delacroix, you’re far too kind. If it weren’t for you back then, my daughter would’ve died without the money for surgery. I will never forget what you did for us. Never. Whatever you need, anything, I’ll be there.”

I smiled. “Let’s not go overboard with the ‘lay down your life’ talk. But thank you.”

Still, I had a feeling that little scene wasn’t going to go away quietly.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Nicholas barged in, face dark with fury, demanding answers.

“Elodie, I thought you were gentle and reasonable. But this? Plotting behind my back, turning everyone against Valerie? I’m so disappointed in you. You need to take those seven sisters of yours. Apologize. Or I’ll kick all of you out.”

I met his gaze, perfectly calm. “Do you even know what your favorite mistress destroyed today?”

Nicholas was dumbfounded.

I stepped closer to him and said, “It's the watch you begged your grandfather for when we got married. Remember? That was the symbol of our marriage.”

Back then, Nicholas had been so deeply in love with me.

He spent three consecutive days and nights camped in front of his grandfather Gilbert Vanderbilt's property to acquire the watch.

When he finally got it, he gave it to me along with this entire rose-covered villa.

He promised me his love would be like the roses—eternal, blooming through every season, and that his love would stand the test of time.

But now? The roses have withered.

The watch was waterlogged and stopped ticking.

And Nicholas? He’s long forgotten that vow.

I let out an exasperated breath. “You know what? Never mind. That was a lifetime ago.”

Nicholas stood there stunned, maybe even a little shaken, as if he wanted to say something.

But before he could, Valerie burst into tears. “I know I wasn’t born with status or wealth. I get that I’m not everyone’s favorite. But I love Nicholas so much!”

Wiping her fake tears, she said, “I’m not like those other women, the ones who lounge around and live off men. I want to support him. I want to ease his burdens.”

Elodie's POV

“Nicholas has carried the weight of this entire family on his back, and what have you done?” Valerie’s voice cracked, theatrical and trembling. “Treated him like a bottomless ATM. Has anyone ever made him feel like he belongs? Has anyone ever truly loved him?”

Her hand brushed Nicholas’s cheek like she was petting something fragile and broken, and tears poured down her face, steady, practiced, like she’d rehearsed this moment in a mirror.

“Nicholas, I’m here because I love you more than anything in this world. If Elodie can’t accept that, then I’ll prove it to you with my life.”

Then, without warning, she darted for the window.

First floor or not, Nicholas panicked. Lunged. He caught her mid-sprint and held her like she might actually shatter.

For a split second, he looked terrified, like he'd almost lost a limb.

Then the switch flipped.

His eyes darkened, and in one smooth motion, he snatched a crystal vase off the table and hurled it straight at me.

It hit.

I felt the sting before I even saw the blood.

“Look at what you’ve done, you spiteful, jealous woman!” he yelled, his voice hoarse with rage. “How could I have been so blind to marry someone like you?”

Nicholas pointed at the broken glass and the woman sobbing in his arms.

Then he declared, “This house belongs to Valerie now. You’re not welcome here. Get out.”

This house... our house.

The year we were in love, Nicholas swore we’d grow old together, where he picked out the paint colors with me and told me which wing we’d turn into a nursery.

Now, for a woman who just tried to throw herself out the window, he was throwing me out instead.

I looked down. Blood from my cheek was dripping onto the polished marble floor.

I nodded, slow and numb.

“Alright,” I said softly. “I’ll go.”

But, Nicholas, can you really afford what it’ll cost to push me out?

...

By the time I made it downstairs, the seven mistresses were already waiting in the living room.

Jessica gasped the second she saw me. “Jesus, Elodie! Your face!”

She darted off to grab the first aid kit. The rest closed in around me, their eyes sharp, their jaws tight.

“This isn’t just words anymore,” Rebecca muttered. “He’s crossed a line. He’s gone full-on abusive.”

“Yeah,” Amanda said, her voice shaking with fury. “You can’t let this slide. He laid hands on you, El.”

For all his recklessness, Nicholas had always known where the invisible line was.

He spoiled us like collectibles—pretty, expensive, and replaceable—but he never damaged the goods.

But now?

Now he had Valerie whispering poison in his ear and fire in his veins.

And birds of a feather always find their kind.

I sat down carefully as Jessica began cleaning the cut on my cheek. The sting was nothing compared to the dull ache behind my ribs.

I took a deep breath and said, steady and clear, “Do you know why Nicholas can get away with this?”

Hannah and Cressida didn’t miss a beat.

“Because he’s a bastard!” they snapped in perfect harmony.

I gave a tiny smile, then shook my head. “No. It’s because he’s the heir to the Vanderbilt fortune.”

Money made him untouchable. Money built the pedestal he stood on and fed the illusion that he could never fall.

He was a man born on third base, convinced he’d hit a triple.

He never learned to value anything, especially not love.

I glanced upstairs in the direction he’d stormed off and said inwardly, 'But it’s alright. Sooner or later, he’ll learn,'

As Jessica carefully bandaged my face while I sat on the couch, the front door opened once more.

Valerie strutted in like she was walking a runway, her wrist heavy with new jewelry.

She stopped in the middle of the room and smiled like a wolf in silk.

“I’ve cut off your allowance,” she announced. “You’re nothing now. Just wait till you’re out there starving on the street.”

I exchanged a look with the Seven Roses and smiled quietly to myself.

In this mansion, she’s the only one living off a monthly allowance of $100,000.

The rest of us have our businesses and incomes.

Valerie mistook my silence for surrender.

She snorted coldly, spun on her heel, and hooked her arm around Nicholas, dragging him off to the shop.

“Let’s go,” she purred. “I want to hit Cartier before they close.”

...

My phone started buzzing an hour later.

Photos. Videos. Stories.

Nicholas splurged like a man with no limits, buying whatever Valerie desired—handbags, jewelry, wedding gowns, diamond rings. If she wanted it, he swiped his card without hesitation.

Then came the suite photos. Presidential. Penthouse.

Ten boxes of condoms were stacked on the bedside table like party favors.

And there she was, Valerie Smith, draped in a wedding gown, waving a deposit slip like it was her golden ticket.