The morning sun hit the small kitchen in Vienna's home, but it didn't bring its usual warmth. Vienna sat at the wooden table, her surgical clogs tucked under her chair, staring at a cold cup of tea. After the public shaming at the gala, she couldn't face the hospital staff. Every "congratulations" on the scholarship now felt like a pity prize bought by a Washington.
A sharp knock at the door broke her thoughts. Cynthia walked in, bypassing the usual pleasantries. She looked at Vienna's messy hair and the emerald dress from last night hanging over a chair, and her expression softened.
"I've been calling you, Vee," Cynthia said, pulling out a chair. "I saw what that snake Isabella did. The whole room saw it."
"Who even is she, Cynthia?" Vienna asked, her voice cracking. "She looked at me like I was a virus in her clean room."
Cynthia sighed, leaning forward. "That's Isabella Moretti. Vienna, she's been hunting Newton since we were all in secondary school. While you and Newton were... whatever you were at LIBS... the Washingtons and the Morettis were already drafting marriage contracts. She considers herself the 'rightful' Mrs. Washington."
Vienna frowned. "But Newton hasn't seen her in years. He vanished, remember?"
"Exactly," Cynthia nodded. "Newton spent years away, avoiding his family and avoiding her. Isabella waited. She rejected every other suitor, thinking that once Newton came back and took over the empire, he'd realize she was the only one on his level. Seeing him protect you—a girl from a public hospital—must have made her lose her mind. She's not just mean, Vee; she's desperate. She's spent a decade of her life waiting for a man who doesn't even remember her middle name."
Vienna looked down at her hands. "She said I was a 'charity case.' And the worst part is, she proved it in front of everyone I work with."
The Warning
Across town, the atmosphere at the Moretti estate was starkly different. Isabella was lounging by her pool, acting as if she hadn't just tried to destroy a woman's career. The peace was shattered when Newton's silver SUV screeched into the driveway.
Newton didn't wait to be announced. He strode onto the patio, his presence cold and suffocating.
"Newton, darling! I assumed you'd be—"
"Quiet," Newton said, his voice a low, dangerous blade. He didn't look like the boy Isabella used to play with; he looked like the successor to a multi-billion-dollar empire. "You think last night was a game? You think you can use a public podium to settle a personal grudge?"
Isabella stood up, her face flushing. "I was doing you a favor! Showing everyone that she's just a charity case. Newton, we've known each other since we were children. Our families—"
"Our families are a business arrangement, Isabella. Nothing more," Newton interrupted. "I haven't seen you in years for a reason. I didn't miss you then, and I certainly don't want you in my life now."
"I waited for you!" Isabella shouted, her voice trembling. "I stayed loyal to the Washington name while you were off playing commoner! You owe me—"
"I owe you nothing," Newton countered. "And since you care so much about 'status,' let's talk about yours. I've already spoken to the board at Silverline. If I see your name on another guest list, or if you ever mention Vienna's name again, I will personally ensure the Moretti distribution contracts are terminated. Don't test how quickly I can make you irrelevant."
He turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the sun, the decade of waiting finally crashing down into silence.
The Manor's Cold War
Newton's final stop was the Washington Manor. He found Laverne in the library, looking over a jewelry catalog.
"You're late for the morning briefing with your father," Laverne said, her voice like polished glass.
"You sat there," Newton said, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You sat there at the front table and let Isabella Moretti tear down the woman I love. You knew she was going to do it, didn't you?"
Laverne finally looked up, her expression one of bored indifference. "Isabella is a woman of our world, Newton. She understands the value of a legacy. She was simply pointing out the obvious. You are trying to force a girl who belongs in a public ward into a world of silk and pearls. It was never going to fit."
"It would fit if you weren't so obsessed with a 'legacy' that's built on stepping on people!" Newton shouted. "Vienna is worth ten of Isabella. She saved lives while Isabella was busy waiting for a phone call that was never going to come."
"Your father expects a son who understands the value of his name," Laverne retorted, standing up. "If you continue to chase this... doctor... you are risking the merger, Newton. You are risking everything."
"Then let it burn," Newton hissed. "I'm done playing by your rules."
He walked out, the heavy library doors slamming behind him. He didn't know where he was going, but his heart was pulling him toward the one place he was no longer welcome: Vienna's front door.