“Julian, from now on, I think Miss Sutton would be more appropriate.”
His expression changed.
I continued.
“We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about how close we still are.”
The color faded slightly from his face.
Eleanor’s jaw tightened.
“Once you leave this house, do not imagine that you can come back asking for help.”
Before I could answer, the low sound of a car engine rolled through the driveway.
Everyone turned toward the front windows.
A sleek black sedan stopped outside.
A driver wearing a tailored suit stepped into the rain with a large umbrella.
When I opened the door, he nodded politely.
“Miss Sutton, Mr. Arthur Vance sent the car for you.”
The entire foyer went quiet.
Arthur Vance was a former university professor, a respected investor, and a ten-percent stakeholder in Vanguard Architects.
More importantly, he was one of the few people Eleanor Rhodes never dismissed.
Mila stared at me.
“Arthur Vance sent a private car for you?”
Eleanor recovered first.
She gave a cold laugh.
“So this is your grand exit? A luxury car to make everyone think you’re important?”
I ignored her.
I lifted my bag, tucked the folder against my chest, and stepped into the rain.
The brick walkway reflected the golden lights of the mansion behind me.
At the top of the steps, I stopped and looked back.
“Don’t worry, Eleanor.”
She watched me carefully.
“I won’t be coming back to ask you for a place to stay.”
Her smile returned.
“Then what exactly would you ever come back for?”
I looked beyond her.
At the grand staircase.
The enormous windows.
The elegant rooms.
The company legacy that had been built, in part, on work they preferred to pretend was never mine.
“You’ll understand tomorrow.”
Then I got into the sedan.
The door closed.
The voices behind me disappeared.
As the car moved down the long driveway, I didn’t look back.
My hands were trembling.
But not because I wanted to return.
And not because I was afraid of Eleanor.
They were shaking because, after almost six years, I had finally walked away without asking anyone’s permission.
Leaving the estate wasn’t the end.
It was only the beginning.
Because tomorrow, the documents in my bag were going to force the Rhodes family to confront everything they had spent years pretending didn’t exist.