Chapter 3

Aveline

Something snapped inside me. I shot up from my chair and grabbed Vivian by the collar, yanking her close enough to see the fear flash in her eyes.

"The water you gave me yesterday before I left," I hissed. "What did you put in it? What kind of drug was it?"

Vivian's smile never wavered, even with my hands twisted in her designer blouse. "Oh, that? Just a little something to help you... perform your wifely duties. After all, you may have never met your husband, but legally you're still Mrs. Sterling. We couldn't let all that money they paid for you go to waste, could we?"

The slap echoed through the dining room like a gunshot. Vivian's head snapped to the side, a perfect red handprint blooming across her pale cheek.

"You drugged me," I said, my voice deadly calm. "You fucking drugged me and sent me to—"

"Aveline!" Monica shrieked, pulling Vivian behind her. "How dare you lay a hand on her! You ungrateful little savage!"

"Savage?" I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "You sold me like cattle and your precious daughter drugged me. But I'm the savage?"

Monica's face twisted with years of resentment. "Look at you. Six years abroad, getting your fancy psychology doctorate, and for what? All that education and you're still nothing but damaged goods. God knows how many men you've been with over there, playing the sophisticated doctor while—"

"Monica, that's enough." Grandmother Eleanor's voice cut through the venom like a blade. She set down her fork with deliberate force, the china clinking against her plate as she rose from her chair. Despite her age, her presence still commanded the room when she was truly angry.

"Enough?" Monica turned on her. "Eleanor, this girl has been living off your charity for years, gallivanting around Europe on our money—"

"My money," I corrected coldly. "Every cent I've earned since I left this house. Every degree, every achievement, every breath I've taken has been mine. I owe you nothing."

Vivian held her cheek, crocodile tears gathering in her eyes. "I just wanted to help," she whispered. "You're still legally his wife. I thought if you finally met him—"

"You thought you'd drug me into compliance," I finished. "Just like your mother thought she could sell me into slavery."

The front door slammed with enough force to rattle the windows, and the voice of my stepfather, Richard, boomed through the house. "Where is she? Where is that ungrateful little—"

He stormed into the dining room, still impeccably dressed in one of his expensive suits despite his obvious rage. Even at home, Richard never abandoned the facade of being a successful businessman. His graying temples and slightly receding hairline gave him the distinguished look he cultivated so carefully, but right now his face was flushed an unflattering shade of red that clashed with his navy tie. His small, shifty eyes—the kind that never quite met yours directly, always calculating the next angle—darted between me and the others before settling on me with barely contained fury.

"You missed the meeting! Do you have any idea what you've done?" A vein throbbed violently at Richard's temple, and the tendons in his neck stood out like taut cords. "Look, we don't know who they are or what kind of background they have, but we owe them! They paid two hundred thousand for you! All they asked was for you to be his wife in name, but maybe it's time you became his real wife!"

Something snapped inside me. I shot up from my chair, my voice cold as ice. "Are you out of your fucking mind? I went there to discuss divorce. I don't care who he is or how much money changed hands—I'm ending this marriage. I will never again be anyone's puppet, especially not yours."

"Ungrateful little—" Richard's voice cracked with fury. "If that's how you feel, then get out! This house doesn't need—"

"Richard!" Grandmother Eleanor's voice rose to a commanding tone, her cane striking the floor sharply as she stepped forward from where she'd been standing. "How dare you speak to her like that?"

"Mother, this girl is nothing but trouble—"

"This girl," Eleanor's voice shook with anger, "may not be my blood granddaughter, but she's closer to me than my own flesh and blood. I haven't seen her for six years, and the first thing you do is try to throw her out?"

She turned to me, her eyes softening. "Aveline, darling, please stay with me for a few days. I've missed you so much."

The fight went out of me at the pain in her voice. After everything that had happened, Grandmother Eleanor was still the one person who truly loved me.

My phone rang, cutting through the family drama. I glanced at the screen—unknown number.

"Dr. Reeves speaking," I answered, stepping slightly away from the table.

"Dr. Reeves! What an honor to speak with you," came an enthusiastic voice. "This is Margaret Wells from Arlington Academy. We heard that a University of Geneva psychology doctorate has returned to Manhattan, and we simply had to reach out."

"Arlington Academy??"

"Yes! The finest aristocratic kindergarten in New York!"

I could feel every pair of eyes in the room suddenly focused on me. Monica and Vivian's heads snapped up at the mention of Arlington Academy.

"How did you know I was back?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Word travels fast in our circles," Margaret laughed. "We're hoping to offer you a position as our lead child psychologist. Your specialization in pediatric psychology is exactly what we've been looking for. I know you may not have formal teaching experience, but that's exactly why we want you. We're a boutique academy that specifically seeks brilliant minds fresh from academia. Our families pay premium tuition because they want their children taught by the best, not by tired educators going through the motions."

I could see Monica practically straining to eavesdrop, her mouth slightly agape. Vivian looked like she was about to have a stroke.

"The compensation is quite competitive," Margaret continued. "Starting at two hundred and fifty thousand annually, plus benefits. We believe talented professionals deserve to be compensated accordingly."

My eyebrows shot up. That was more than most senior executives made. And I did love working with children—their minds were so beautifully uncomplicated compared to the twisted adults surrounding me right now.

More importantly, I was starting to realize that the divorce situation wasn't going to be as simple as I'd hoped. I'd come back to Manhattan thinking I could sign some papers and be done with this nightmare marriage, but clearly there were complications I hadn't anticipated.

I needed something to occupy my mind while I figured out how to untangle this mess. Something to keep me busy and distracted from replaying last night's disaster on an endless loop. And if Monica and Vivian were going to be this visibly green with envy over a job offer, well, that was just an added bonus.

"When would you need an answer?" I asked, enjoying the way Monica's face was turning an interesting shade of green.

"Well, ideally immediately. Our fall semester begins Monday. I know it's short notice, but we had an unexpected resignation."

I looked around the room—at Monica's barely concealed envy, at Vivian's shocked expression that probably mirrored the disbelief that someone like me could be headhunted by Arlington Academy.

"You know what, Margaret? I accept. Send me the contract details."

"Wonderful! Dr. Reeves, you have no idea how excited we are to have someone of your caliber join our team."

I hung up and looked directly at Monica, whose jaw was practically on the floor.

"Well," I said sweetly, "looks like I'll be staying in Manhattan a bit longer than planned."