The Jilted Heiress Reclaims Her Throne

Every muscle in the foyer froze at the sound of that voice. All eyes snapped upward toward the grand spiral staircase.

Alistair Pembroke, the estate's head butler, was marching down the steps. His silver hair was perfectly combed, his black tailcoat immaculate, and his spine stiff with absolute authority.

Alistair had served the Bryant family for two generations. In this house, his word was law.

Cody saw the butler and immediately started whining, holding his broken wrist. "Alistair! This psycho thief broke into the house and attacked me! Call the cops!"

The new head of security stepped forward, his voice tight with adrenaline. "Sir, we are preparing to restrain the intruder and hand her over to the police."

Alistair didn't even look at them. His eyes were locked entirely on the girl in the trench coat.

It had been months since he had seen her. Half of her face was hidden behind a black mask, and her frame was worryingly thin, but Alistair would never mistake those cold, unyielding eyes.

Tears instantly welled up in the old man's eyes. He picked up his pace, practically shoving the head of security out of his way.

He stopped two feet in front of Eleonora and bent at the waist, executing a perfect, ninety-degree bow.

"Welcome home, Miss Eleonora," Alistair said, his voice trembling with deep emotion. "You have suffered."

The entire foyer went dead silent. It was as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Cody's jaw dropped open. The color completely drained from his face.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through the security captain's tactical shirt. He realized with a sickening jolt that he had just ordered his men to attack the true heir of the Carlisle estate.

Eleonora reached up and pulled the black mask off her face. The stress rash was visible, but it did nothing to diminish the breathtaking, icy beauty of her features.

She gave Alistair a slight nod. "Alistair," she said, her voice perfectly calm. "When did the security standards of this estate drop so low?"

The words were spoken softly, but they hit the security guards like physical blows.

Alistair straightened his back. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a terrifying, cold fury. He spun around and glared at Cody.

"You filthy piece of trash," Alistair spat, his voice echoing in the high ceilings. "How dare you accuse the true mistress of this estate of theft!"

He pointed a shaking finger at the vintage bag on Eleonora's shoulder. "That bag belonged to the late Mrs. Carlisle. It is a custom piece. There is not another one like it in the world."

The wealthy teenagers shrank back, staring at the floor. The blond boy who had accused her earlier tried to hide behind a tall girl, his face pale with terror.

Alistair turned his furious gaze to the security captain. "Throw this foul-mouthed thug out of the gates. Now."

Desperate to save his job, the captain barked an order. Two massive guards lunged forward, grabbing Cody by his armpits.

They dragged him backward across the marble floor like a dead dog.

Cody thrashed wildly, screaming toward the second floor, "Addisyn! Addi, help me!"

The captain yanked a clean microfiber cloth from his belt and shoved it brutally into Cody's mouth, silencing him instantly.

The heavy oak doors were pulled open, and Cody was thrown out into the cold night. The doors slammed shut, cutting off his muffled screams.

Alistair's sharp eyes then swept over the group of teenagers who had mocked Eleonora. "The rest of you. Get out of this hall."

The guards stepped forward, their hands resting on their batons. The teenagers didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled toward the side doors, fleeing the foyer in absolute panic.

The air in the hall turned freezing cold. No one dared to look Eleonora in the eye.

Eleonora hooked the mask back over her ears. She picked up her duffel bag and, with Alistair following respectfully a step behind her, began her ascent up the grand staircase.