“Sir, Miss Ileana is back.”

    “Send her in–now!” Even with the door closed, Scott’s fury was impossible to miss. Ileana flinched, nerves trembling as she pushed the study door open. She had barely stepped inside when something heavy hurtled her way–a ss ashtray came flying, striking her shoulder with a sickening thud.

    She cried out in pain, tears springing to her eyes.

    The butler, unfazed, quietly shut the door behind her and gestured for ione /iof the maids to pick up the shattered ashtray from the hallway.

    Inside, the study reeked of smoke. Paperwork and folders were scattered in disarray across the floor. Ileana stood shaking, eyes lowered, not daring to meet Scott’s gaze.

    “Ileana, did my warning just go in one ear and out the other?” Scott’s voice made

    her tremble even harder.

    “I–I didn’t…” she stammered, her protest so small and pitiful it only made Scott angrier.

    “Didn’t you?i” /ihe snapped, voice rising. “You left our guest alone in the dining room, and iyou /idared to give Raleigh attitude?”

    “Are

    you just tired of having too much money, is that it?!”

    Instinctively, Ileana clutched the strap of her purse, as though afraid Scott might snatch her bank cards away right then and there.

    “Useless! Absolutely useless! All you do is spend money–can you do anything else? The only thing you’re good for now is keeping Raleigh happy, so he’ll invest in Tate Holdings. Do you understand me?”

    Scott’s anger only grew as he looked at his daughter’s timid, cowering demeanor.

    “I’ll give you one week. If you can’t get Raleigh to hand over that investment willingly, then you can pack your bags and leave the Tate family. Go back to whatever gutter you crawled out of.”

    Ileana’s head shot up, disbelief etched across her face. In this moment, Scott was nothing but a cold–blooded businessman. Nothing but profit interested him–not even his own daughter.

    “Dad! I’m your flesh and blood!”

    “Do you know what really sets you apart from Alessia?” Scott still called her “Alessia,” not because he epted her, but because he simply couldn’t be bothered to care what she called herself these days.

    But Ileana misunderstood, her voice rising in desperation.

    “She’s Alessia, Alessia! She goes by Alessia now, not Alessia!” she iscreamed/i, nearly hysterical.

    “She could be Tate or Morton, all because I allow it. But you–do iyou /ieven deserve to be a Morton anymore?”

    Ileana’s eyes went wide, words catching in her throat.

    “Get out of my sight. Remember–one week. If you can’t even manage that, then you’re worthless to me.”

    Scott’s words echoed endlessly in Ileana’s mind.

    Numb, she wandered back to her room and dropped into the chair at her desk. She opened herptop almost without thinking, typing in the name of the school Alessia had transferred into. But the site required a student ID to log in.

    Within minutes, Ileana had found someone on social media willing to sell her an ount. She sifted through everything she could find about Alessia.

    Just as she expected, Alessia stood out wherever she went. There were endless posts about her–confessions, envy, admiration, and plenty of candid photos. Some were taken from odd angles, some so pixted they barely looked real, yet none of them could hide Alessia’s striking beauty.

    Ileana’s fingers tightened around the mouse, her expression unnervingly calm.

    Night deepened. The room was swallowed by darkness, the glow of theputer screen reflecting off her face, making her look like some vengeful wraith risen from the depths.

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