The next morning, the doors creaked open again.
Isabella strutted into the room, surrounded by her entourage like some smug little First Lady bee.
A maid rushed to bring her a velvet chaise lined with fur.
She flopped down like she owned the place.
“What a shame,” she purred.
“I handed you a golden opportunity yesterday, and you still blew it.”
“Though, lucky for me, the President was very satisfied in my suite last night.”
“Pretty soon, he’ll have his firstborn son.”
“You?” she laughed.
“You can’t even lay an egg. What good are you to anyone?”
I forced a smirk.
“This White House has seen a thousand mistresses come and go.
You’re just the latest toy he’s playing with. Don’t get cocky.”
Her fake smile snapped.
That sweet act dropped like a mask.
Her eyes flared with hate.
“Oh, that tattoo?” she said sweetly.
“I hand–picked it myself.”
“Had a designer flown in and everything. Do you like it?”
That was the first time I really looked at her.
“What did you say?”
She giggled, eyes full of cruelty.
“I just reminded the President what would really make you unforgettable.”
“I didn’t think he’d actually go through with it.”
“Rough night?” she asked, pretending to be concerned.
“Nightmares, maybe? You look like hell.”
I clenched my fists, struggling not to launch myself at her.
The maids stepped in between us, like they expected a fight.
Isabella leaned back and smiled like a devil.
“Your mom? Oh, she was Daddy’s favorite once.
But mine stomped her right into the dirt.
–idant’s Rotraval Tranned in the White House
Now she’s nothing but dust.”
Dad just wanted to scare her a little.
But that wasn’t enough. Not for us.”
“Our mothers were equals, you know–same powerful families.”
“But yours got the wedding ring. Mine got the scraps.”
“So she fixed that.
She made sure the peacocks went wild that day.”
“Didn’t expect your pathetic little mom to actually die, though!”
“You ‘noble daughters‘ always thought you were better than us.
Now look where you are.
Under our boots.”
And just like that, everything clicked.
My mother hadn’t just died–she was murdered.
By them.
Tears streamed down my face.
I stood up, trembling with rage.
I lunged at her.
Maids yanked me back before I could even touch her.
Isabella laughed in my face.
Then slapped me hard.
“You’re nothing now. A washed–up, useless ex–First Lady.”
“As soon as I give birth to the prince, that title’s mine.”
She waltzed out of the room, surrounded by her people.
I collapsed to the ground, staring at the space she’d just occupied.
My eyes burned red.
This throne will be mine.
And I will avenge my mother.
Just you wait.
イ
Chapter 8
