BETTY

After spending hours in Harriette’s rose garden, letting the quiet settle into the cracks of my chest, I finally force myself to head inside.

Harriette left earlier, and her soft warning still echoes in my ears, so I stayed behind, pretending the roses could hold me together a little longer.

I walk back into the manor slowly, and I find the hallways empty, the lights around the house dim, meaning everyone must have retired by now.

I go up the stairs, taking my time, each step heavier than the last, and make my way to Grace’s room, my hand hesitating for a breath before I push the door open.

I freeze when I find Nathaniel sitting on the edge of her bed, sleeves rolled up, a storybook open in his hands.

His head is tilted toward her, and I watch as he softly tucks a curl behind her ear and places a gentle kiss on her forehead before whispering, “I love you, baby girl.”

Grace smiles in her sleep, and something in my heart cracks open, making me let go of the doorknob, but it creaks loudly enough to announce my presence.

His head jerks up, and the warmth disappears from his face instantly, replaced by the cold, distant expression he reserves only for me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, rising to his full height, placing the book neatly on her bedside table like nothing just happened.

“I wanted to kiss her goodnight,” I respond softly.

He doesn’t even give me a second look. He walks to me and reaches for my wrist, fingers firm, pulling me out into the hallway before shutting the door behind us.

“She’s asleep,” he barks, voice sharp. “Also, how dare you take her with you today without my permission?”

I try to yank my hand away, but he is too strong for me. “I wanted her there with me,” I blurt, “Is that so wrong?”

His jaw flexes, and his eyes harden before releasing my hand.

“You don’t take her anywhere without telling me. I can’t have you dragging her to…”

“To where I grew up?” I interrupt, feeling just a little fed up with his attitude. “To my neighborhood?”

His lip curls just slightly, and I watch as his hands form fists at his sides. “Yes. To that dump.”

I swallow, forcing my voice to stay steady. “But she’s my daughter too, Nathaniel… just as much as she is yours.”

He laughs, the sound not coming out as joy but contempt. “I don’t care, Betty. Her last name is Blackwell and not Cooper. So like I said, don’t ever take her anywhere without telling me.”

He turns, already walking away, but something in me cracks open, and a low voice comes out before I can stop it. “Why didn’t you come to the cemetery today?” I sigh, blinking slowly,

“I needed you.”

He stops in his tracks, and he doesn’t move. Then he slowly turns, slipping his hands into his pockets, before tilting his head, and a cruel smile curves his lips.

“What made you think I would come?” he sneers, taking a step towards me.

My breath catches, and I am just about to answer when he takes another step.

“What makes you think I wanted to be there?” he pauses dramatically. “I don’t care about you,” he adds, taking two more steps, his voice rising with each word, “let alone your drug-addict mother.”

My vision blurs for a moment, and I blink my tears back, but one escapes anyway, sliding hot down my cheek.

“How long will you punish me?” I whisper through my clenched teeth. “Six years, Nathaniel… isn’t that enough? I sniffle between words. “ I have loved you with everything I have — even after the way you’ve treated me all those years.”

He lifts his hand, smirking like it’s all amusing to him and shakes his head once before arching his left brow. “With what?” he mocks. “Everything you have comes from me.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

“And as for this so-called suffering…” he steps closer, towering over me. “Do you see any chains on you Betty?” his eyes move to my wrists. “ Leave if you want. Actually,” his smile turns dark and confident, “that would make it easier for me to take my daughter from you. Because she is not going anywhere.”

He turns again, leaving, but this time I reach out on instinct, grabbing his hand.

He freezes, looking as my fingers wrap around his, then at me, and I can see fury blazing in his eyes before he rips his hand out of mine.

“You cost me the most important thing in my life when you drugged me that night, Betty,” he spits, pointing his finger at me and taking a few steps back.

“I’m going to make sure you lose something just as important before I am done with you,” he threatens, and before my brain can digest his words, he is already striding down the hall to his chambers and slams his door shut once inside.

I stand there, my body trembling, and I feel my knees give out.

I sink to the cold, polished floor, my arms wrapping around my legs, and I pull them close to my chest.

The tears break free before I can stop them, rushing out in a quiet flood, but I force myself to cry silently.

God forbid anyone in this house hears me and adds “weak” to their list, so I cover my mouth to muffle the sounds and drag myself against the wall, letting it all out.

I cry for Mum. I cry for the ruins of my marriage. I cry for the six years I’ll never get back, and worst of all, I cry because I cannot believe he still thinks I drugged him all those years ago.

Once I’m done, I gather myself, wiping the tears off my face with the back of my hand, and step quietly into Grace’s room.

Her little lamp is now on, casting soft shadows on the walls, and she’s curled up under her elephant blanket, her eyes open and glassy.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, baby?” I whisper, walking closer and kneeling beside her bed.

“I heard yelling, Mom. Are you and Daddy fighting again?” she asks, her voice trembling, her small fingers gripping the edge of the blanket.

I blink fast, shaking my head. “No, love. We weren’t fighting. Daddy was just explaining something to me. Now close your eyes.”

She looks at me for a long moment, and I can tell she can see right through me.

Grace is only six, but sometimes it feels like she’s lived a thousand years. She sees too much and feels too deeply. That is why I always have to be careful around her.

I smooth her hair and tuck the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “You and I are going to do something fun tomorrow, okay?” I tell her, forcing a smile to distract her.

Her lips lift slightly, and the slightest hint of excitement returns to her tired little face. “Okay, Mama. But don’t forget to remind Daddy to sign my permission slip for the field trip,” she murmurs, yawning.

A sharp pang hits my chest, and I bite the insides of my cheeks. God, I’d forgotten all about that with everything else that’s been happening.

“I won’t forget, sweetheart.” I brush a strand of hair from her forehead and lean in to kiss her cheek.

I reach for the light to turn it off, but her voice comes again, sleepy, and full of something that breaks me.

“Mama,” she whispers, “don’t worry about Grandma. Daddy said when people we love die, they turn into angels and watch over us. I know Grandma is your angel now.”

A sound escapes me, something between a sob and a sigh, making me turn halfway, blinking fast as one tear slips down my cheek.

“Yes, she is my sweet girl. She is watching over both of us.” I clutch my chest with my hand. “Now go to sleep,” I whisper.

She yawns, her eyes fluttering shut, and her breathing slows. I stand there for a long moment, watching her little chest rise and fall, the tiny hand still clutching the blanket.

I turn off the light and step out, closing the door behind me softly, before leaning against it.

I stand there in the dark now hallway, feeling the ache in my chest slowly ease.

And it’s in these quiet moments, with Grace’s words echoing in my heart, that I know, despite everything, I could never regret meeting Nathaniel.

BETTY

BETTY

By the time I make it downstairs the next morning, the house is already alive with chaos.

Vendors swarm the halls like ants, hauling in towering bouquets, glittering balloons, and a massive golden sign declaring “Harriette’s 80th”, its golden metallic shine stabbing at my nerves.

I close my eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, the kind that would make Harriette frown in amusement if she were here.

Another event I don’t want to attend, but one I can’t skip. Not if I want to stay on the good side of the only person in this house who actually likes me.

I tighten my grip on the envelope containing Grace’s permission slip and steel myself.

I head toward Nathaniel’s study, hoping, praying, that he’s in a better mood than yesterday, and I find his door is slightly ajar.

I pause, draw a slow breath, and push it open.

Inside, his chair is empty, and two maids are hovering over dusting shelves and furniture, their movements precise but sharp with irritation.

I clear my throat, and they snap their heads toward me, their faces screaming why the hell are you here?

“I’m looking for Nathaniel,” I blurt, darting my eyes between them.

They exchange glances, one rolling their eyes at me. “He already left,” the other replies, barely looking at me.

I squint, my shoulders slumping, and I let out a huge sigh. “Already? It’s still early…” I mutter under my breath.

The maids ignore me, returning to their dusting as if I were air. I step out, feeling the weight of invisibility settle on me, and stare down at the envelope.

The signature is needed by midday, and failing Grace isn’t an option. My jaw tightens. “Fuck, I have to go see him at his office.”

The thought of going to that office makes my stomach twist, the way it did two years ago when Nathaniel told me that I shouldn’t be seen anywhere near Blackwell Enterprises unless it was an emergency.

Emergency. I never dared test the definition, not until today.

I step into the foyer, where Anders is orchestrating the chaos like a conductor with a short temper, and he spots me instantly.

His spine straightens, arms folding neatly behind him. “Anything I can do for you, ma’am?” he asks, politely but distant.

I offer a small smile and nod. “I need to head into town. Can I have someone drop me off?”

His expression doesn’t budge, but he sighs, slow and irritated. “All the drivers are out.”

I tilt my head and smile at him, all teeth out. “I’ll drive myself then, if you don’t mind.”

That earns me a look. The questioning one. The are you sure you can even handle that? look.

Before he opens his mouth, I cut him off. “Yes, Anders. I can drive, and I’ll be careful. I’ll bring the car back in perfect condition.”

He hesitates, then reaches into his pocket and hands me a set of keys. “You'd better. Those cars are not cheap.”

I scoff with a shrug. “I know, Anders. Thanks.”

I squeeze the keys in my palm and head toward the garage. Only one car remains—the rest are gone, and this one is unmistakably Nathaniel’s favorite.

A sleek, obsidian-black convertible. Low, muscular frame. Chrome edges sharp enough to cut someone. Leather interior that smells like power and privilege.

“Fuck!” I slap my forehead and do a three sixty, fear prickling down my spine.

But then the envelope in my hand catches the light, and I take a deep breath. “For Grace,” I whisper to myself.

I slide into the driver’s seat, breath catching in my throat as I hit the ignition, and the engine roars to life.

I pull out slowly, easing onto the driveway, then the road.

The wind rushes in, sweeping my hair back, and something loosens inside my chest until I find myself smiling, actually smiling. It’s been so long since I felt… free.

I turn on the radio, the music filling the car, and the road opens before me.

Within the hour, the city skyline rises like a wall of glass and steel, and Blackwell Enterprise stands in the middle of it—tall, silver, merciless.

I park right at the entrance, because I won’t be staying long, and I step out.

The glass doors slide open, and the building greets me with its usual chaos. Phones ringing nonstop, and people rushing past with files stacked to their chins.

I head straight for the elevator and press the top-floor button. My heart thuds faster the higher we climb, and by the time the doors open, my pulse is a drumbeat in my ears.

The top floor is different. Quiet. Cold, and the air feels heavier, like money and power and secrets.

I walk slowly, softening the sound of my heels just to make sure there is no attention drawn to me.

Nathaniel’s secretary’s desk is empty, so I look around to see if she is anywhere in sight, but I can’t see her.

I swallow, grip the envelope tighter, and step toward his door, but his voice coming from the other side of the door stops me in my tracks.

He sounds like he is speaking to someone. But I am not sure if someone is in there with him or if he is on the phone.

I turn and look at the secretary’s desk again and sigh. “Where the hell is she? I can’t just stand here like I am lost.”

My eyes sweep the hallway before I turn back to his door, and I’m seconds away from knocking when a woman’s voice floats from inside. I freeze.

Confusion hits me hard, rooting me to the spot, and I don’t know what to do next.

“How could you still be married to her, Nathaniel?” I hear a spiteful female voice ask.

I frown, and curiosity nudges me closer. I don’t mean to listen, God knows I don’t, but I can’t stop myself, so I lean in my ear against the door.

“My marriage to her is complicated,” Nathaniel answers, his voice cold as steel. “I had to. It was either that or lose my place in the family. It was out of obligation.”

My stomach twists violently.

“So she trapped you, right?. And you don’t love her, do you?”

I flinch. Because one thing is for sure is I don’t think I want to hear what comes next.

I want to turn around and get out of there, but somehow, my feet refuse to move. My heart begins to thud in my chest, the silence inside there deafening, but then, I hear him sigh.

“No. I don’t. I could never love anyone as I loved you.”

“What?” I gasp, my hand covering my mouth. My vision blurs, my ears begin to ring, and I feel the hallway begin to tilt.

I stumble back just as a hand touches my arm.

“Mrs. Blackwell? Are you okay?” I turn and find Nathaniel’s secretary looking at me, her face filled with concern.

I stare at her, struggling to breathe, and my throat tightens. “N…no,” I whisper, shoving the envelope into her hands. “Give him this. It’s for Grace. Tell him it must be faxed to the school by midday.”

Before she can respond, I turn and bolt for the elevator, my breath hitching in painful bursts.

BETTY

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my room, I stare at the silver sequin gown Harriette sent earlier with a note that read, Wear this tonight.

The gown is beautiful, and it’s hugging me in all the right places.

For a moment, I almost don’t recognize myself. My waist looks smaller, my figure elegant, making me look like I belong, but when I lift my gaze to my reflection, the illusion fades.

Even with the makeup, my face looks pale and tired, like I haven’t slept in days. And the truth is, I haven’t. Not since I heard Nathaniel in his office, saying things no wife should ever hear.

I still can’t get his words out of my head, and every time my eyes close, I hear his voice. “I don’t love her. I will never love anyone as i loved you.”

My hands tighten around the edge of the dresser, taking a deep breath, forcing myself to look up at my reflection again.

“I wish I didn’t have to go downstairs,” I mutter out loud to myself.

It’s Harriette’s birthday tonight, and she’s the only reason I still have a place in this family. So no matter how I feel, I have to attend.

I smooth my dress one last time and grab the black and silver masquerade mask from my bedside table. “Just make sure Harriette sees you, then you can slip away,” I tell myself, taking a deep breath.

I put on the mask, tying the ribbons carefully at the back of my head, and somehow, the mask gives me a strange kind of courage. Maybe tonight I can pretend to be someone else.

I step out of the room, and the music and laughter hit me instantly. The house feels alive with gold lights everywhere, soft chatter, and perfume floating through the air.

I walk down the staircase slowly, the hem of my gown brushing the steps, every chandelier sparkling like the night sky.

I keep my head low and head straight for the bar, the only safe place in a room like this.

“Champagne, please,” I tell the bartender quietly, and he nods, sliding me a glass.

The first sip burns a little, but it helps, giving the courage to pretend to admire the room while scanning for Nathaniel.

I spot him near the far wall, surrounded by men in suits, drink in hand, mask perfectly in place.

I turn away quickly and take another sip, hoping, praying he doesn’t notice me. I would appreciate it if he kept his distance tonight because I don’t know what I might say to him when my head is filled with champagne.

“Fuck!” I gasp under my glass when my eyes spot Eleanor striding from the kitchen with a bunch of waiters following her.

She looks stunning, of course, wrapped in diamonds and a navy blue gown, but she has that same cold expression she always wears.

I turn quickly, pretending to order another drink before she can see me, and she passes behind me, leaving a trail of her expensive perfume.

“That was close.” I breathe out slowly, before a small smile tugs my lips. “First win of the night.” I whisper to myself and finish the rest of the drink in one go.

I grab another one, and another, starting to feel a little buzzed, and before I know it, I begin to enjoy myself.

“I can see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” a cold, calculated voice comes from behind me, and I blink dramatically, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Figures. Joy is always short-lived around here.

He grabs my hand, and I turn to face him, his eyes fierce behind the mask.

“I’ve been watching you,” he mocks, leaning forward to make sure no one hears him scold me. “That’s your fifth glass. Planning to get drunk and embarrass us tonight?”

I pull my hand away, my eyes darting around the room. “I’m not drunk, Nathaniel.”

“You better not be.” His tone hardens. “If you make a scene, I swear…”

“What, Nathaniel?” I cut him off, surprising us both. “What could you possibly do that you haven’t already done?”

He blinks, stunned, not expecting me to push back, and his face softens for a split second before hardening again as he clenches his jaw and steps toward me.

“Go back to your room. You already reek of alcohol.”

I shake my head quickly, the bubbles giving me courage I don’t usually have. “I’m here for Harriette. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s about to say something else when the entire room quiets.

The music fades, conversations stop, and all eyes turn toward the grand entrance.

A woman steps inside. She is tall, beautiful, graceful, and every inch of her is glowing under the chandelier’s light, her red gown flowing behind her like fire.

The crowd parts for her without a word, like she is royalty, and she begins walking towards where Nathaniel and I are standing.

I follow the movement, and when I turn to Nathaniel, his jaw is tight, and his eyes are fixed on her like he’s seen a ghost.

“Amanda?” he breathes.

My heart stops. I know that name.

It’s her. His ex-fiancée. The woman he has refused to let go after all these years.