Chapter 33: The Real Matriarch
Seven in the evening, at Ashford mansion,
Nestled away from the bustling city of Velmora, Ashford Mansion was tucked quietly at the foot of a hill. The car entered the driveway of a huge estate overlooking the mansion, which was a spectacle of wealth. It was bold, commanding, and unapologetically grand.
Every corner screamed extravagance, from the endless balconies to the marble terraces and the multi-tiered pool crowned with a golden fountain. It wasn’t just luxurious, it was built to be seen, envied, and remembered.
Damien hated it, not for its excess, but for what it cost to the family business. Every stone, every chandelier was a monument to Damien’s father, Maxwell Ashford’s ego. It was exactly why Damien had to fight tooth and nail for the CEO position.
But Aveline knew Damien didn’t hate the mansion as much as he loved himself, power, and Vivienne Sinclair.
The car slowed to a stop, Aveline stepped out, and met the housekeeper already waiting at the entrance.
"Welcome, Mrs. Ashford. Right this way."
Aveline followed without a word. Her heels were muted against the plush carpet of the hallway, as the memories flooded. She had lived here for months in quiet isolation before being transferred to the hospital.
Now she walked in whole, sharp, and painfully aware of the true colors of each person who lived there.
...
In the vast dining hall, two women were already waiting.