Unsteady

Chapter Fifty-Three

The morning unfolded with its usual rhythm, the house stirring to life as the first golden rays of sunlight streamed through the windows. The air carried the soft hum of footsteps padding across polished floors, the distant murmur of voices, and the occasional clang of dishes from the kitchen as the maids prepared breakfast.

Upstairs, Regina moved with careful precision, dressing Izadora in a pale blue romper, fastening the tiny buttons with delicate fingers. Shadows clung beneath her eyes, a lingering testament to the night before, but she pushed through it, smoothing Izadora's curls with a tenderness that was both habitual and necessary. Graham, meanwhile, had retreated to his study, his deep voice murmuring into the phone as he sifted through emails, already immersed in the responsibilities of the day.

Eden and Ravenna, bright-eyed and eager, made their way to their mother, standing patiently as she worked through their hair with a gentle but firm touch. The scent of lavender and honey clung to their freshly washed locks, and the rhythmic strokes of the brush against their scalps was soothing, almost lulling them into a trance.

Downstairs, the kitchen was alive with warmth and rich aromas. The maids had outdone themselves—platters of golden pancakes gleamed under the light, a bowl of plump, sun-ripened berries sat beside a plate of flaky croissants, and fresh orange juice sparkled in crystal glasses. It was a spread fit for royalty, and yet, as Diana and Valeriya settled at the long table, tension crackled in the air like an impending storm.

Diana sat stiffly, her fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the wood. A thousand sharp remarks lined up on the tip of her tongue, each more scathing than the last, but she bit them back—for now. It was infuriating enough that Valeriya had gotten away with sneaking around with Nathan, but to be rewarded for it? To have their father's approval as if she had done nothing wrong? The injustice burned inside her, hot and bitter. And worst of all, Valeriya wasn't just content—she was radiant.

Happiness softened the sharp edges of her usually cool expression, a quiet kind of joy written in the slight curve of her lips, in the way she cradled her phone like it held something precious. Her fingers glided across the screen, effortlessly, absorbed in whatever conversation she was having. But Diana knew. She knew exactly who Valeriya was texting.

Nathan.

Who else could it be? Valeriya had no friends—by choice, of course.

Valeriya felt the weight of Diana's stare but dismissed it with ease. She had far more important things to focus on. Her thumbs moved swiftly over the keyboard as she relayed the news to Nathan.

My father's on board with us dating so long as we only see each other at school and at my house, but he wants to speak with you first later today.

Nathan's reply was immediate. That's amazing. A pause. Then, But what if it's a trap? he joked He couldn't have possibly changed his mind overnight

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Valeriya's lips.  He's not going to kill you she typed back. Probably.

Across the table, Diana let out a quiet huff, her irritation practically radiating off her in waves. Valeriya finally lifted her gaze, meeting her sister's glare with a composed, unreadable expression. But she didn't take the bait. Not today. Today, nothing could touch her.

On the other side of the house, deep in the quiet solitude of his study, Graham sat frozen in place, his fingers still resting on the edge of his desk. A call he had just received replayed in his mind, each word laced with an unease that settled like a weight in his chest. One of his father's men had called to inform him—almost offhandedly—that Clark was no longer in his service.