Chapter 325
Olga
A mother's eye can't be wrong.
I've noticed this for weeks.
The glances across the dinner table. The way they gravitate toward each other in a room full of people. The charged silences that speak louder than words. The way Vivienne's face softens when Daphne enters a space, and the way Daphne's eyes follow her like she's the only person who exists.
I've noticed.
I didn't want to comment on it. Didn't want to see it. Because seeing it means acknowledging it, and acknowledging it means facing the impossible.
"Shutit."
The head maid stands before me, her expression a mixture of concern and self-righteousness. She's been with this family for thirty years. She thinks that gives her the right to speak.
"But madam." She doesn't stop. Doesn't heed the warning in my voice.
"You know this is wrong. It's immoral. You can't let this go on. They're—"
I don't think.
My hand moves.
The slap echoes in the drawing room, sharp and final.
