On the other side of the city, Veronica stood in the grand kitchen of the Brown Estate, pretending to supervise breakfast preparations.
Dressed immaculately in silk loungewear, she moved around the polished counters with an air of casual authority, pointing here and there as top-tier chefs obeyed her commands without question.
She hadn't cooked a thing herself—of course—but she acted every bit the hostess, giving orders as if she owned the place.
And to many in the house, she did. Everyone had seen how much Alexander Brown favored her.
No one dared to oppose her. Those who did often faced consequences—harsh enough that people chose silence over defiance. The warning was clear.
Aurora was the living example of that. The one who had once been the rightful lady of the house, but endured humiliation and isolation under the same roof.
No wife should have gone through what she did.
And yet, she had—quietly, without anyone standing up for her.
