Chapter 22 The Gray Manor
Juliet pushed through the doors of Gray Manor and stepped inside.
The house was quiet, but it was far from still. Servants moved through the halls carrying trays, arranging flowers, and tending to one task after another. There were enough staff members to handle every corner of the household, making it obvious how lavishly the occupants lived.
The mansion itself was a reflection of wealth and status, every detail carefully designed and built with money.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, expensive artwork decorated the walls, and elegant furniture filled every room as though the entire place had been taken straight from a luxury magazine.
After her parents died, her mother's sister, Clara, had taken over the manor completely and moved in with her own family—her husband Philip and their daughter Alexa.
The moment Juliet stepped inside, a familiar feeling settled heavily in her chest.
It was the feeling of not belonging.
Her steps gradually slowed until she came to a stop in the entrance hall.
Standing there, she stared ahead as memories rushed through her mind one after another.
Years of cold treatment, cruel words, and endless criticism came flooding back without warning.
A lump formed in her throat, and her fingers slowly curled against her palms as she fought to push the memories away.
She hated coming back here.
Every visit reminded her that this house had never truly been her home.
After her parents died unexpectedly in a car accident while she was still in middle school, Clara's family had taken her in.
Yet despite raising her, they had never treated her with warmth or kindness.
Instead, they constantly made her feel as though she owed them everything—as though her existence itself was a burden they had reluctantly agreed to carry.
Juliet took a slow breath, straightened her shoulders, and forced herself to keep walking.
The moment she stepped into the living room, her gaze swept across the luxurious space. Expensive white leather furniture sat beneath sparkling chandeliers, while elegant decorations filled every corner, showing off the wealth that surrounded the family.
Her eyes eventually landed on the large couch near the center of the room.
Clara and Alexa were sitting together.
Alexa's face was red and swollen from crying. She leaned against her mother's shoulder while Clara rubbed her back gently, murmuring comforting words into her ear.
The sound of Juliet's footsteps immediately drew their attention. Both women looked up.
The second Clara saw her, the softness on her face vanished. Her expression darkened instantly.
Without a word, she shot to her feet and marched toward Juliet.
Juliet instinctively stiffened.
Her gaze dropped to the familiar wooden stick lying on the coffee table, and a knot of tension immediately formed in her stomach. A second later, Clara grabbed it.
The older woman's face was twisted with fury as she strode across the room, gripping the stick tightly in her hand.
Before Juliet could react, Clara swung it down.
Smack!
A sharp pain exploded through Juliet's arm.
She flinched violently, her breath catching as her arm dropped to her side. The burning pain spread through her skin, and her brows knitted together as she stared at Clara in disbelief.
"Juliet!" Clara screamed.
Her chest rose and fell heavily as she glared at her.
"How dare you!"
Juliet pressed her lips together and rubbed her arm instinctively, trying to ease the sting.
"How can you do this to Alexa?" Clara demanded, her voice growing louder with every word.
She pointed the stick toward the couch.
"Look at her! Look how badly she's crying because of you!"
Juliet glanced toward Alexa, who sat there with tears streaming down her face, but she remained silent.
That silence only seemed to fuel Clara's anger.
"You always took Alexa with you whenever you went to see Vincent, and now you want to blame them for developing feelings for each other?
" Clara snapped, her voice rising as she pointed an accusing finger at Juliet.
Her chest heaved with indignation, and her eyes burned with self-righteous anger as though she genuinely believed every word she was saying.
"If that's what happened, then that's what happened!" she continued harshly. "Feelings can't be controlled. But instead of accepting it and stepping aside, you keep shamelessly trying to tempt Vincent even though Alexa is your own family!"
Clara folded her arms tightly across her chest and lifted her chin, looking down at Juliet with open disdain. "Do you have no sense of shame at all? Alexa trusted you, yet you're still clinging to a man who doesn't want you. You're the one tearing this family apart, not them."
The stick trembled in Clara's grip as she pointed it accusingly at Juliet.
"How can you do this to your own cousin?"
Her voice echoed throughout the living room.
"We gave you shelter. We gave you a roof over your head when you had nowhere else to go, and this is how you repay us?" Clara continued. "By hurting my daughter?"
Juliet's hands slowly tightened into fists at her sides.
Her nails dug into her palms, but she remained silent, listening as Clara continued to throw accusation after accusation at her.
"How can you be so shameless? So ungrateful?" Clara spat. "I always knew your parents failed to teach you proper manners, but seeing you act like this only proves how right I was."
The words struck Juliet like a physical blow.
Her eyes widened slightly.
For a moment, she simply stared at Clara, unable to believe what she had just heard.
But Clara wasn't finished.
Her gaze swept over Juliet from head to toe before her lips curled with disgust.
"Look at you," she sneered. "Behaving like a complete bitch."
Juliet's body went rigid.
Clara didn’t give her time to respond.
Her fingers tightened around the stick, knuckles turning pale as rage sharpened every movement. In one harsh motion, she lifted it again and brought it down without hesitation.
The impact landed on Juliet’s arm, forcing a sharp breath out of her.
Her body jerked slightly at the blow, her arm instinctively pulling back as a burning sting spread rapidly beneath her skin.
Pain bloomed across her skin almost instantly, and she could feel the hot pulse of it rising beneath the surface as red welts began to form.
Before she could even steady herself, Clara lifted the stick once more and marched toward her with heavy, furious steps, her face twisted in rage and her grip tightening as though she intended to break something with every swing.
But this time, Juliet didn’t remain still.
The moment the stick came down again, her hand shot forward almost on instinct, her fingers closing firmly around the wood mid-air. The force of it jolted through her arm, but she held on, her body locking into place as Clara froze in shock, her expression faltering for the first time.
For a brief moment, neither of them moved, the tension between them thick and suffocating, their breaths uneven as they stared at each other in stunned silence.
Then Juliet’s jaw tightened, something sharp flashing in her eyes as she yanked the stick out of Clara’s grip with a sudden, decisive pull and flung it across the room.
It hit the floor with a loud crack before sliding under a nearby table, disappearing from view.
Clara stood there, stunned, her mouth slightly parted as if she couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
Juliet remained where she was, her chest rising and falling unevenly as anger surged through her in slow, heavy waves.
Her fingers trembled faintly at her sides, but it wasn’t fear that made her shake anymore.
It was something far deeper, something she had buried for years finally breaking free all at once.
Because for years, she had endured everything without a word.
Every insult thrown at her face. Every accusation that stripped her dignity.
Every unfair judgment that made her feel smaller in a house that was never hers.
She had never spoken back, never fought, never defended herself, because she had believed—foolishly—that they were still her family, that their harshness was just another form of concern, and that she owed them gratitude for taking her in after her parents died.
But standing there now, looking into Clara’s furious face, something inside her finally cracked open, and the truth settled over her with painful clarity.
They had never seen her as family.
Not even once.
To them, she had always been a burden.
Her hands curled slowly into fists as memories surfaced without mercy, each one striking harder than the last—the business deals she had secured for them, the projects she had carried on her own shoulders, the opportunities she had created through sheer effort while they stood behind her success and took credit without hesitation.
For so long, she had even convinced herself that her achievements were nothing more than luck, or perhaps the result of someone else’s missteps, especially Cassian’s.
But now that belief shattered completely.
It was never because he was incapable. It was because he had chosen to step aside, to let her take those deals simply because it was her who wanted them.
The realization cut deeper than any physical pain Clara had ever inflicted on her.
Juliet lifted her gaze again, staring at Clara in silence.
Her eyes no longer held confusion or hurt alone, but something colder now settled beneath them—quiet disappointment, as if something she had trusted for years had finally broken apart in front of her.
It felt like a blindfold had been torn away, leaving everything raw and painfully clear.
She had believed Clara’s harshness came from love.
She had believed discipline was care.
She had believed she was being raised like a daughter.
But now she could see it with brutal clarity—none of it had ever been love, and none of it had ever been family.