“My guess seems accurate,” Hannah observed, her voice hardening Like cooling steel. “Tell me, why did she punish you?”
His eyes darkened, a storm brewing within their depths. “You made it into the organization. Joselyn must have assumed I helped you, tattled to the boss’s wife.” He spat the words like bitter pills.
“She. she.”
He struggled to find the words, his hands knotted into fists. “She used my sister as a warning, said the organization has a business deal coming up. And she wants my sister. wants her to be part of it!”
The air crackled with unspoken horror. “She can’t,” Winston hissed, his voice murderous. “My sister.. she’s not equipped for such wolves.
Something will happen.. I know it! And the boss’s wife.. she warned me not to breathe a word to him, or my sister will disappear forever.
It’s all my fault. I couldn’t protect my sister.”
“She plays the family card like a trump, doesn’t she? Forgetting I, too, wear the organization’s cloak now.” A dangerous glint mirrored his own in Hannah’s eyes. “Let’s see how adept she is at stopping me.”
Her voice, cold and sharp as a honed blade, sliced through the tension. “Drive to the Compton Manor,” she commanded, her eyes ablaze with a resolve forged in the fires of shared threat.
The night breeze whispered through the air, gently tugging at their figures as Winston skillfully guided them back to the manor.
The warm glow of lights spilled from the living room, where Amelie had invited over a group of noble ladies for coffee and conversation.
Joselyn leaned affectionately against Amelie, creating an intimate tableau in the well-lit room.
“Good evening, Miss Mitchell.”
A butler, attentive to every detail, hastened to offer slippers to Hannah as she entered.
Hannah coolly raised her hand, dismissing the gesture with a frosty expression.
Upon catching sight of Hannah, Joselyn’s radiant smile faded. Joselyn, addressing Hannah with a mixture of faux politeness and disdain, remarked, “Don’t you understand the rules? Slippers are to be changed in the room upon arrival.”
The comment rippled through the room, prompting curious gazes from the other ladies. A murmur arose.
“Is she Mr. Compton’s daughter?”
“She doesn’t seem as refined as Joselyn. Rather uncouth, I must say.”
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Joselyn, concealing a smirk behind her hand, interjected, “Madam, don’t be so harsh. Remember, she is my father’s biological daughter.”
Amelie, seemingly engrossed in her coffee, watched the scene unfold without intervention. Her eyes, however, fixed on Hannah, revealing a subtle amusement.
“Mom, how can she join the ladies for coffee?” Joselyn continued to stoke the fire.
Hannah, undeterred, approached with deliberate steps. “It was Wallace who urged my return. Do you think I’d endure your bullying?”
“What are you implying?” Joselyn retorted, standing abruptly. “I know all about how you entered the organization, Hannah. Dad assisted you covertly, didn’t he? It’s disgraceful how you succeeded!”