Nte still had another event to rush off to.


    After their conversation, Isadora decided to catch a daytime movie by herself.


    She''d set her phone to silent.


    When she walked out of the theater, her phone was flooded with missed calls and texts from Richard and Eleanor.


    Richard: "Isadora, you''re not feeling well today? Why didn''t youe to work?"


    Eleanor: "Isadora,e back home and stay with us. I''ll make you something delicious."


    Eleanor: "I was blind before. Please, give me another chance to take care of you."


    Isadora nced at the screen, but didn''t reply. She let the phone go dark and slipped it into her bag.


    She wandered aimlessly through the mall.


    If in the past she''d felt any lingering attachment, resentment, or confusion about the Vaughan family, her heart was now growing cold.


    But as for whether she''d return to work at The Vaughan Group, she was still conflicted.


    Her original reason for joining The Vaughan Group had been simple: she wanted to be closer to Richard and Eleanor, to be the good daughter they wanted.


    But the truth was, Isadora had never enjoyed running a department store.


    What she loved was painting, and interior design.


    Maybe it was because of how cold and indifferent Ca had been to her as a child.


    She''d always loved drawing cozy homes, each one different from the next.


    In fact, her paintings had even won awards back then.


    But art lessons were expensive.


    It was impossible for Ca to pay for them.


    Later, after she''d been brought back into the Vaughan family and started working


    at theirpany, painting had slipped further and further away.


    Now, disappointed by the Vaughans, the idea of interior design kept resurfacing in her mind.


    But she was already a director at The Vaughan Group.


    A $600,000 annual sry, plus a 30% stake in thepany-could she really just walk away from that?


    She mulled it over as she walked, until she found herself standing in front of an upscale men''s clothing store.


    A smartly dressed clerk at the entrance greeted her: "Miss, would you like toe


    in? We just got some new arrivals-perfect gifts for your boyfriend."


    Isadora paused.


    Through the ss, a blue silk tie caught her eye.


    Her thoughts involuntarily drifted back to the man fromst night-how he''d gone


    too far, tying her wrists with a blue tie, just like this one.


    The memory sent a flush of heat to her cheeks.


    The sales associate caught on immediately. "This one''s custom-made by a European designer. Very versatile. Any man would look incredible in it."


    Beep-


    Isadora swiped her card. $2,000.


    With the carefully packaged tie dangling from her hand, she headed out of the mall.


    She took the elevator down to the underground parking lot.


    Suddenly, two men in ck suits appeared out of nowhere, blocking her path.


    "Miss Vaughan, our matriarch would like to have a word with you over tea."


    Isadora frowned, remembering the time she''d been kidnapped. She took a cautious step back.


    "I''m afraid I don''t know any matriarch."


    "She''s from the Fitzgerald family."


    *


    Isadora was "invited" to the Fitzgerald family''s ancestral home.


    The Fitzgerald estate, with its hundred-year-old mansion, sat atop Capitolion''s Peace Hill-a secluded, tree-lined expanse.


    Nearly the entire hilltop belonged to the Fitzgeralds, the private roads so quiet that cars were a rare sight.


    After Isadora stepped out of the car, a well-trained housekeeper led her through an enormous courtyard and along a red-covered walkway, finally reaching a garden.


    There, seated at a table and sipping tea, was an elderlydy radiating unmistakable wealth and authority.


    A servant stepped forward to announce her arrival.


    Deanna''s deep-set eyes swept over Isadora, sizing her up with frank, unwavering


    scrutiny.