Chapter 2
I let out a long breath and picked up the tiny onesie I hadn’t finished sewing.
It was barely palm–sized, stitched with a classic American folk pattern–five–point stars and protective sigils–meant to keep a newborn safe and strong.
Every thread held a mother’s prayer.
A week ago, Dr. Hollins sat me down in her office.
“Mrs. Lancaster,” she said with a small smile, “You’re about ten weeks along.”
The second I heard it, I broke down in tears.
Eight years ago, political infighting nearly tore the White House apart.
Victor Lancaster was still just a forgotten, low–priority son of the president.
That winter, someone tried to kill him on the campaign trail.
He was alone in the snow, unarmed, terrified.
And I threw myself in front of him took a bullet meant for his heart.
That wound nearly killed me.
And it stole my chance to ever become a mother.
I remember him crying, his hands shaking as he held me on the freezing ground.
He whispered,
“Eleanor… I swear, I’ll never forget what you did for me.”
I’ve carried that promise in my heart for eight years.
And the pain of that promise- for just as long.
So when I found out I was pregnant,
I cried like I never had before.
In front of the staff. In front of the guards.
I didn’t care.
I was going to surprise him on his birthday.
But he beat me to it.
With a surprise of his own.
Pushing the hurt aside, I went back to sewing, fingers trembling.
I didn’t get far.
Samuel Greene, Victor’s chief of staff and longtime right–hand man,
walked in with two aides behind him.
“The President has issued a directive.” Samuel said, “Given your… condition, he believes it best you step back from official duties.
He’s asked that you relinquish your authority over the First Lady’s Office.”
d in the White House
Samuel had known us from the beginning from the day I stood beside Victor, fighting for every inch of power he has today
He looked at me, eyes darting, clearly hoping I’d do the usual–play nice, say nothing, give in.
Every time Victor got mad, he’d dangle that power over me, use it to put me in my place.
It had become our unspoken ritual.
Only this time…
I didn’t want to play.
I didn’t even look up.
Just nodded at my assistant to hand him the seal.
Samuel hesitated, visibly shaken.
“Mrs. Lancaster…”
I cut him off before he could say more.
“Please let the President know–I appreciate his concern.”
He left in silence.
Later, my assistant asked, “Ma’am… why didn’t you ask him to reconsider? Like you always do?”
I kept stitching, but my eyes stung.
“I’m done asking. From now on… I won’t beg for anything.”
When I met Victor, he was nobody.
Everyone in that political dynasty looked down on him.
It was me–I pulled strings, used my family’s influence, brokered alliances, opened doors.
It was me who risked everything.
Who schemed behind closed doors, who stood by him through scandal and bloodshed.
I believed love that survived hardship was unshakable.
But I forgot even the truest heart can change.
Just like Victor did.
Eight years of love.
And he gave my own sister a seat beside him.
Even though he knew- I despised Isabella.
She was the daughter of the woman who loved blue peacocks.
The woman who broke my mother.
The woman who taught me what betrayal feels like.
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
