Chapter 5
*Removed?”
“Who signed off on this? Me?”
Victor stared down the lead aide with a voice like a blade.
The man flinched, frozen between withdrawing the order and following protocol.
“Eleanor was my appointment.”
“You don’t get to erase her because of some internal politics–not even the Vice President has that power!”
The aide steadied himself and held out the executive order.
“Sir, it’s signed by the Vice President.”
“You’d have the First Lady charged with insubordination if she refuses it.”
I reached out for it-
But Victor snatched it first, flung it to the ground and stomped on it.
“You’ve lost your mind!” I stared at him, stunned.
Victor’s voice was all steel and fire.
“This is my White House.”
“I don’t take orders from someone hiding behind their rosary beads.”
“Prep the car. We’re going to the First Lady’s Office.”
He yanked my hand, pulling me toward the motorcade.
Isabella gasped behind us.
“Victor!”
He paused–then turned back and scooped her into his arms.
“She’s fragile. Can’t be on her feet too long.”
I stepped back, watching him lower her into the car–into the seat reserved for the President and First Lady.
And I smiled bitterly.
What’s the point of keeping the title when she gets the role?
Did he really think I cared about the nameplate on
the office door?
The ride was silent.
The snow fell harder, seeping into my coat. My stomach twisted with pain.
Isabella, tucked under Victor’s arm, glanced at me and smirked.
“She looks so pale.”
“Do you think she’s upset with me?”
Victor didn’t even blink.
“She’s the First Lady. She should be gracious. Don’t worry about it.
I couldn’t tell what hurt more–the wind, or the Indifference.
But either way, I was frozen to the core.
He never needed warmth.
He was the cold.
By the time we arrived, the Vice President was waiting in the First Lady’s Office, seated like a First Lady.
Victor barely bowed.
“Mother, I’ve heard talk of removing Eleanor.”
I’ve been investigating.”
“Care to tell me who started it?”
She glanced at me, then spoke softly.
“Some staff got the wrong idea.”
“Thought you’d already made your choice.”
Victor let out a cold laugh and pulled Isabella onto his lap.
“Maybe it’s time you stepped down.’
‘Move to a retreat. Somewhere peaceful. You’ve done enough here.”
Her hand stopped counting prayer beads. She stared at him.
“So now I’m meddling?”
“I only stepped in because you couldn’t decide–because you were scared of upsetting the Lancaster girls.”
Victor’s voice dropped an octave.
“Isabella is gentle. She makes me happy. Favoring her isn’t a crime/”
“But making unilateral decisions is—and you’ve crossed the line.”
“You questioning my fitness to lead now?”
The Vice President’s lips tightened, her face pale with fury.
He was drawing a line in the sand—in public.
The aide tried to soothe the tension.
“Please, let’s all calm down. The Vice President shouldn’t stress herself.”
Isabella stepped forward, all mock modesty.
“I know I wasn’t born into this. I don’t expect your approval.”
“But I love Victor. And he loves me. Please… just let us be.”
Her act was just like her mother’s-
And men always fell for it.
The Vice President looked at me.
I knew what had to happen.
If I didn’t step in, chaos would follow.
“I asked for the removal”
The room went still.
I knelt, pressing down the pain.
“My health is failing. I can’t carry the next generation. I’m no longer fit to serve.”
Victor shot up. Isabella smiled–100 soon.
Because he walked right past her.
He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.
“You’re asking for a divorce?”
I met his gaze, steady and sharp.
“Yes. You’re known for your honor, Mr. President.”
‘I’m sure you won’t disgrace the Vice President’s name, either.”
His eyes narrowed, searching my face like a predator.
I braced for the worst.
But instead… he laughed.
Cold. Vicious.
“Fine.”
“Effective immediately: the First Lady is declared critically ill.”
“She is to remain in isolation at the residence. No visitors unless I allow it.”
“And the Vice President will retire to St. Miriam’s National Cathedral next month.”
“Permanent prayer retreat.”
The rosary in her hands snapped–beads scattered across the marble floor.
She collapsed.
And
my heart split open.
She raised him. Protected him.
Loved him.
And now, he’d discarded her too.
Just another
pawn
beneath his boot.
