Chapter 6

Zeph's mother was locked away in a gilded cage, crafted just for her by Zeph's father. And Zeph? He was the living proof of that sin, a filthy bastard, born from it all.

His mother had always been torn—hating him one moment, loving him the next. When he was five, she abandoned him at the amusement park.

At seven, she pushed him into the pool on purpose.

By ten, she just stood by as others put a collar on him and tossed him into a doghouse like he was nothing but a mutt.

When he turned twelve, Zeph realized that if he wanted to live, he had to claw his way up and fight for every scrap. After that, nobody could snatch anything from him ever again.

He was always on his own, with nothing but the clothes on his back. When he was little, they called him a stray dog; when he got older, they called him a rabid one. He couldn't care less.

We barely had anything to do with each other, Zeph and me.

Only two things ever connected us. The first was when I was five, and I picked him up at the amusement park.

The second was when I turned eighteen, he sent me a love letter.

When news broke that Zeph was back in Erisia, it sent a ripple through the social circles, but things soon settled down like nothing had happened.

There were only seven days left before I had to report to Veritas University of the Arts.

During that stretch, aside from packing, I mostly killed time with Priscilla at her newly opened club.

As soon as I showed up at the club, a few people crowded around, talking openly about the whole Binder-Males marriage thing right in front of me, not even trying to keep it down.

"Eleanor, if Jane really ends up marrying Hadden, you think your life's still gonna be smooth sailing?" one of them snarked.

"Aren't you worried she'll team up with some outsider and try to take over the Binder family?" another chimed in.

"Honestly, she's such a snake. Her dad died on the job, and if your father hadn't dragged her up from the sticks and taken her in as his adopted daughter, would she even have the life she's got now?" someone else scoffed.

"If you ask me, Eleanor, you ought to put Jane in her place and make sure she never forgets her place," another person said.

I stood at the pool table, fingers absently running along the cue, eyes fixed straight ahead on the leftover balls from Priscilla's last turn.

I kept quiet and acted like I didn't hear a thing.

Growing up, the thing my dad always told me was, "Jane's family now. If one of us rises, we all rise; if one of us falls, we all fall. So if anyone tries to mess with Jane, you make sure they know what happens when they do."

I'd followed that rule for more than ten years, but now? I'm done with that.

What I didn't expect was for Hadden to show up.

The people who'd been gossiping around me just moments ago went totally quiet, gulping nervously.

They muttered a quick hello and scattered in a hurry, like they'd just run into the plague itself.

It was as if bad luck had walked right through the door.

For a moment, everything went quiet. I didn't bother with them and just leaned in and lined up my shot.

With a sharp crack, I sent three balls rolling into the pockets, one after another.

Only then did I straighten up with a grin, resting the cue gently against the table. "Fancy seeing you here, Hadden."

Hadden didn't answer, his expression dark and clearly annoyed that I was here.

But with Jane right behind him, he held back.

He didn't bother with small talk. He ordered me, no room for argument, "Apologize to Jane."

I paused, pointing at myself without thinking. Then it suddenly clicked—he wanted me to take the blame.

A smirk curled at my lips. "Why should I apologize? On what grounds?

"I wasn't the one badmouthing Jane."

"If you hadn't let it slide, do you really think they'd have the guts?" Hadden pressed.

"Why wouldn't they?" I fired back.

"If Jane were really totally innocent, would people be running their mouths about her? If she screws up, why shouldn't people talk about it?" I shot back, meeting his eyes, not backing down for a second.

"Eleanor!" Hadden snapped, his voice cold and warning.

I couldn't care less, but Jane frowned, trying to calm things down. "This has nothing to do with Eleanor."

Hadden didn't budge, his face thunderous, eyes clamped onto me like a vise.

"I leave you unsupervised for a few days and you start showing attitude, huh?" he snapped.

"Eleanor, Jane is your family, your sister. You haven't forgotten what your dad always taught you, have you? If one of us rises, we all rise—"

I snorted, cutting him off with a mocking laugh. "Honestly? I wish I'd never met her. I wish she'd never set foot in my house."

"Eleanor!" Hadden barked.