Chapter 2 : socialite completely ruined.
Chapter 2 : socialite completely ruined.
"Because she was going to strike her, Julian!" Clara’s voice trembled with adrenaline, yet her grip on the polished wooden cane remained unyielding. The grand foyer of the Sterling estate fell into a suffocating silence, the crystal chandelier above casting jagged shadows across their faces. Eleanor ripped her wrist from the maid’s grasp, her face twisting into a mask of pure venom.
"How dare you speak to him like that!" Eleanor shrieked, frantically smoothing the shimmering fabric of her gold dress. She turned to Julian, her eyes immediately welling with synthetic tears. "Julian, darling, this wretched girl attacked me! Your grandmother was having a terrible episode. When I tried to steady her cane, this peasant assaulted me!"
Julian didn't flinch. His cold, piercing gaze shifted from Eleanor’s theatrical performance to the frail woman in the wheelchair. Mrs. Sterling’s chest heaved with ragged breaths, but her eyes were remarkably sharp. They were filled with a fiery defiance that Julian hadn't seen in years. Her trembling finger remained pointed directly at Eleanor’s heart, an undeniable accusation.
"Is that true, Grandmother?" Julian’s voice was dangerously calm, a low baritone that commanded absolute authority. He took a slow, deliberate step down the marble staircase, the hollow echo of his shoes sounding like the ticking of a bomb. "Was she trying to help you, or was she trying to silence you?"
Mrs. Sterling opened her mouth, but only a dry, rattling gasp escaped. Clara, refusing to be intimidated, stepped squarely between the elderly matriarch and the golden-clad interloper. "She is lying, Mr. Sterling. Eleanor raised this cane with every intention of hitting your grandmother. If I hadn't intervened, she would be in the hospital right now."
Eleanor let out a sharp, mocking laugh, her composure slipping to reveal the desperation beneath. "You are going to believe a maid over your own fiancée? Julian, she’s a nobody! She was probably trying to steal from the estate and I caught her. Yes, that’s it! She was trying to rob your grandmother!"
Julian reached the bottom of the stairs, towering over the three women. He extended his hand toward Clara, his eyes never leaving Eleanor. "Give me the cane, Clara," he ordered softly. Clara hesitated for a fraction of a second before placing the heavy, silver-tipped walking stick into his palm. It felt unnaturally heavy.
Julian examined the cane, running his thumb over the intricate silver wolf’s head that served as the handle. He then looked at Eleanor, whose pale skin was rapidly turning a sickening shade of grey. "You’ve always hated this cane, Eleanor. You said it ruined the aesthetic of the house. So why were you holding it?"
"I… I told you, I was trying to help her!" Eleanor stammered, taking a step back as Julian advanced. The confident, domineering woman from moments ago was crumbling. "Julian, please. You know her mind is going. She was swinging it wildly. I had to disarm her for her own safety!"
"Her mind is sharper than a razor," Julian countered, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. He gripped the silver wolf’s head and, to Clara’s astonishment, twisted it sharply counter-clockwise. With a soft click, the handle detached, revealing a hollowed-out compartment inside the wooden shaft.
Eleanor let out a strangled gasp, lunging forward to grab the cane. "No! Don't look in there!" she screamed, all pretenses dropped. But Julian easily sidestepped her, using his free hand to block her path. From the hollow shaft, he pulled out a tightly rolled piece of thick parchment, bound with a red ribbon.
"What is this?" Julian murmured, unraveling the document. His eyes scanned the dense legal text, his jaw clenching so tight the muscles twitched. The silence in the room stretched to an agonizing breaking point. Finally, Julian looked up, his expression unreadable. "It’s a newly drafted will. Signed by Grandmother just this morning."
Clara looked at Mrs. Sterling, who gave a slow, deliberate nod. The elderly woman had known exactly what she was doing. She had hidden her most powerful weapon in plain sight. Julian continued reading, his voice echoing off the marble walls. "It seems Grandmother has revoked the previous trust. You are completely disinherited, Eleanor."
"That’s a forgery!" Eleanor shrieked, her voice echoing wildly around the foyer. "That old bat is out of her mind! She doesn't have the legal capacity to change her will! I have been taking care of her! I have sacrificed my youth for this miserable family! You owe me everything, Julian!"
"You sacrificed nothing," Julian replied, his voice laced with absolute disgust. "You isolated her. You fired her favorite nurses. You thought if you kept her locked away, you could slowly drain the accounts. You didn't know she had a private meeting with her lawyer while you were out shopping yesterday."
Eleanor turned her furious gaze toward Clara. "You! You sneaked the lawyer in, didn't you? You worthless little rat!" She lunged at Clara again, her manicured nails aimed at the maid's face. But Julian caught Eleanor's wrist mid-air, his grip like a steel vice.
"Do not touch her," Julian warned, throwing Eleanor’s hand away with contempt. "Clara is the only reason Grandmother is still alive. For weeks, I've suspected someone was tampering with her medication. That’s why I asked Clara to keep a close eye on you. She wasn't just cleaning, Eleanor. She was watching."
The revelation hit Eleanor like a physical blow. She stumbled backward, staring at Clara in horror. The quiet, obedient maid with the downcast eyes had been a spy all along. Clara stood tall, smoothing her apron, no longer looking like a frightened servant, but a fierce protector who had just won a war.
"The security cameras in the west wing weren't broken, either," Julian added mercilessly. "I had the IT team reroute the feeds directly to my phone. I saw you backing her into the corner, Eleanor. I saw you rip the cane from her hands. Your performance is over."
Eleanor fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. The gold dress lost all its glamour, now just a pathetic heap of fabric on the cold marble floor. "Julian, please," she begged, looking up with a tear-streaked face. "I was desperate. I was just so angry. Don't throw me out. I love you!"
"You love my name, and you love my money," Julian said coldly. He pulled out his phone and pressed a single button. "Security? Come to the main foyer. Miss Vance is leaving the premises immediately. Escort her to the gates. She is not permitted to pack her bags; have her things boxed and shipped."
Within seconds, two burly security guards entered through the front doors. They hauled a screaming, thrashing Eleanor off the floor. "You will regret this, Julian!" she howled as they dragged her down the steps. "You and that pathetic old woman! You haven't seen the last of me!"
The heavy oak doors slammed shut, cutting off her hysterical threats. The sudden silence that washed over the foyer was a profound relief. Julian stood motionless for a moment, the newly discovered will still clutched tightly in his hand. Then, he let out a long, exhausted sigh and turned to the two women.
He walked over to his grandmother and knelt beside her wheelchair. Gently, he took her frail, trembling hands in his own. "I am so sorry, Nana," he whispered, the cold billionaire facade melting away entirely. "I should have seen it sooner. I should never have let her get that close to you."
Mrs. Sterling smiled weakly, reaching out to cup her grandson's cheek. She then gestured toward Clara, who was standing quietly by the stairs. Julian followed her gaze and stood up, walking slowly toward the young maid. He stopped a few feet away, looking at her with a mixture of immense gratitude and newfound respect.
"You risked your life today, Clara," Julian said softly. "Eleanor is vicious; she could have truly hurt you. Why did you stand up to her when you knew it could cost you your job, or worse?" His eyes searched hers, looking for the truth behind her unwavering bravery.
Clara met his gaze evenly. "Because my own grandmother passed away in a care facility where she was neglected," she replied, her voice thick with emotion but steady. "I promised myself I would never let an elderly person suffer in silence if I could help it. A job is just a job. A life is sacred."
Julian stared at her, profoundly moved by her raw honesty. In a world full of people obsessed with wealth and status, this young woman possessed more integrity than anyone in his social circle. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a sleek, black business card, and held it out to her.
"You are no longer a maid in this house, Clara," Julian announced. Clara looked at the card, confused. "From this moment on, you are Grandmother’s personal companion and the head of household staff. Your salary is tripled, and you will report only to me. Do you accept?"
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Clara looked at the card, then at Mrs. Sterling, who was nodding enthusiastically, tears of joy welling in her old eyes. Clara smiled, a bright, genuine expression that seemed to light up the gloomy foyer. She took the card from Julian's hand. "I accept, Mr. Sterling. Thank you."
"No, Clara," Julian replied, a soft smile finally breaking across his handsome face as he looked at the woman who had saved his family. "Thank you. Now, let's get Grandmother some tea. I believe we have a lot of new arrangements to discuss."
