The limousine was a silent, rolling cage of tension. The scent of Chloe's cloying perfume mixed with the night air, a nauseating cocktail that made my head pound. I leaned against the cool window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of gold, each one a memory I desperately wanted to erase.
"Well, that was certainly a success," Diana murmured, her hand resting on my father's arm. "Charles, you were so well-received."
My father, blissfully unaware, patted her hand. "It was a good night. The children seemed to enjoy themselves."
"Enjoy themselves? Oh, it was magical!" Chloe burst out, unable to contain her glee any longer. She leaned forward from the seat opposite me, her eyes glittering in the dim light. "Liam is just so wonderful, isn't he, Elara? So charming and attentive."
I kept my gaze fixed on the window. Attentive. Yes, he was always so attentive.
"He spent nearly the whole last hour teaching me the waltz," she prattled on, her voice a mimicry of girlish excitement that set my teeth on edge. "I was so nervous, but he was so patient. He said I was a natural!"
A memory, sharp as a shard of glass, pierced through me.
In my first life, in this very car, she had said the same words.
"He's so patient, Elara! I was so clumsy, but he didn't laugh at me once."
And I, the fool, had smiled, feeling a swell of pride for my "shy" stepsister. "That's just how Liam is," I'd said. "Don't worry, I'll help you learn the rest. Soon you'll fit right in."
I had been the one to ease her path. I had introduced her to my friends, explained the social codes, vouched for her. I had handed her the weapons she would later use to eviscerate me.
The irony was a physical pain in my chest.
"He certainly seemed taken with you, my dear," Diana said, her voice smooth with satisfaction. "The Vances are a very important family. It's good for you to be on his good side."
On his good side. The euphemism was so transparent it was almost laughable. They were already plotting the merger, the transfer of power, the replacement of the Sterling heiress with a more pliable model.
"Elara, you're so quiet," Chloe pressed, her tone laced with false concern. "You aren't upset, are you? I know you and Liam have always been close. I didn't mean to monopolize him."
The manipulation was so skilled. Painting me as the jealous, possessive one while she played the innocent, grateful newcomer. In my past life, I had rushed to reassure her. "Don't be silly! Of course I'm not upset. I'm glad you two are getting along."
This time, I turned my head slowly, meeting her gaze. The streetlights flashed across my face, and I made no effort to soften my expression.
"Upset?" I repeated, my voice flat and devoid of the warmth she expected. "Why would I be upset? It's a charity gala, Chloe. People talk to other people."
The smile on her face faltered. My father shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Elara, there's no need for that tone."
Diana's eyes narrowed slightly, but her smile remained placid. "She's just tired, Charles. It was a long night for everyone."
I turned back to the window, shutting them out. The conversation died, replaced by a heavy, knowing silence. The mask of the happy family had slipped, if only for a moment.
The next morning, after an uneventful breakfast, I found Miriam in the sun-drenched conservatory, carefully tending to my mother's prized verbenas.
"Miriam," I said softly.
She turned, her kind eyes crinkling at the corners. "Miss Elara. Did you sleep well?"
"Not really," I admitted, deciding on a shred of truth to build trust. I walked over and gently touched the one of the flowers, it smelt just like mother. "It's strange, having them here. It doesn't feel like home anymore."
Miriam's expression softened with sympathy. "Change is always difficult, dear. But your father is happy. And I'm sure... I'm sure it's for the best."
"Is he?" I met her gaze squarely. "Miriam, you were my mother's closest friend. You've loved this family since before I was born." I lowered my voice. "I need your help. I can't explain why, but I believe this family is in danger. I need to know everything that happens in this house when I'm not here. Especially with our... new guests."
I saw the conflict in her eyes—loyalty to my father warring with her devotion to my mother's memory, and to me.
"I would never ask you to betray daddy," I whispered. "I'm asking you to help me protect him. To protect what my mother built."
That decided it. She gave a slow, firm nod. "You have my eyes and ears, Miss Elara."
Back in my room, I scrolled through my phone looking for a contact. Once I found what I was looking for, I started typing an anonymous email.
The recipient: Anya Petrova.
The subject: A whisper for your ear.
"Keep a close watch on the new 'Mrs. Sterling's' ascent at the Sterling Group. Her previous venture, 'Prima Designs,' folded amid curious financial discrepancies, leaving several small investors notably quieter. A fascinating study in reinvention. One wonders what the board, or the Vances, truly know."
I hit send. The seed of doubt was planted. It wouldn't stop Diana, but it would make her path rockier. It would make people look twice. Hopefully, it will slow down her rise to power. Hopefully it will buy me enough time to find out how she did what she did. Hopefully I can save daddy. Hopefully...
Later that afternoon, a plain, unmarked box was delivered to the house, addressed specifically to me. My heart hammered as I took it to my room.
Inside, nestled in flawless black velvet, was the diamond necklace from the silent auction. It glittered, cold and magnificent, a king's ransom sent without a word.
There was no note. No signature.
The message was perfectly clear. I see you. I am engaged. The game is afoot.
I didn't touch it. I didn't try it on. I simply closed the box and locked it in the bottom of my mother's armoire.
A slow, cold smile spread across my face. The pawn had made her first move. And the king had just made his.
That evening, over a scrumptious dinner of carved meats and roasted potatoes, I asked my father, "Daddy, do you think I could intern at your office?"
My father looked up from his meal, a look of pride and happiness on his face at my question. "Why of course, dear. Which department would you like to start?" "How about PR?" I asked, knowing from my past life that it was the department Diana would be heading.
My father clapped his hands together, pleased, "Of course, dear. Diana will be joining the Sterling Group as Head of PR. She can show you the ways." Diana smiled, "That all sounds exciting, but Charles, am I really good enough to teach Elara? Maybe we should consider someone more senior to be her mentor?"
I smiled sweetly at her, "I look forward to learning from you, Ms Diana. Think of the bond we will forge, working together!"
"Well that settles it then," father said. "Elara dear, you can start as soon as you want."