CHAPTER 3: The Cold War Begins
CHAPTER 3: The Cold War Begins
Eleanor didn't flinch. Even caught red-handed, the matriarch of the Whitmore family refused to bow. She smoothed her black dress and looked at Adrian with icy resolve.
"I did what I had to do, Adrian," Eleanor said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "This boy, and this... woman you married, are soft. They do not carry the Whitmore blood with the strength it requires. A minor lesson in discipline was necessary. Who would believe a daughter of a bankrupt clerk over me?"
"He is your grandson!" Adrian roared, the realization of his mother's cruelty finally breaking through years of manipulation.
"He is weak!" Eleanor snapped back. She turned her piercing gaze to Isabella. "You think you've won because of a silly video? Go ahead. Show it to the world. The Whitmore PR team will have it scrubbed from the internet in five minutes. I will ruin your family's name before you can even file for a divorce."
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Isabella stepped forward, shielding Noah. "I'm not filing for divorce, Eleanor. Because Adrian isn't the one who betrayed me tonight. You did. And I'm not going to just release a video. I'm going to dismantle your empire brick by brick."
That night, Isabella moved Noah out of the main wing of the mansion and into the guest cottage at the edge of the estate. The battle lines were drawn. The Whitmore mansion was no longer a home—it was a war zone.
