Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Evelyn
Caroline's arrogant declaration of war left me speechless. I stood frozen, trying to process the absurd, insane things she'd just said.
Before I could find the words to fight back and shatter her delusions, Caroline acted.
Without hesitation, she raised the silver-framed photo of the three of them high above her head and slammed it down onto the hard tile floor.
The sound of shattering glass cut through the air.
"What are you doing? Are you insane, Caroline?" I demanded, my voice sharp with shock.
Caroline ignored me completely. She dropped to her knees and clawed through the sharp glass shards with her bare hands, yanking out the photograph. Then she ripped it to pieces. Glass cut into her fingers. Blood dripped onto the torn fragments. But her face showed no pain.
I stood there, stunned by this completely unexpected turn.
Then Caroline lurched to her feet. She threw herself against the metal plant stand nearby. The heavy stand toppled instantly. She screamed and crashed to the floor with it, landing in a pile of broken glass and dirt.
I watched her fall, watched her writhe in the debris, then curl up and sob violently.
My mouth hung open. I couldn't make sense of the madness unfolding in front of me.
Did she have a history of mental illness? Why had Julian never mentioned this?
Before I could move to help her, the door burst open from outside.
"Madam."
"Good God, what happened?"
Henry the butler rushed in with two maids and a gardener. They saw Caroline on the floor, surrounded by wreckage, and immediately turned cold eyes on me.
Their hostile stares hit me like a slap.
That's when I realized what Caroline had just done.
She'd framed me. What a vicious tactic. Christ, what kind of woman could be evil enough to hurt herself like this?
And my reputation in this damn manor was already bad enough.
Everyone would naturally believe she was the victim.
Caroline instantly dropped her arrogance. She ignored the cuts on her hands and gathered the torn photo pieces with heartbroken care.
She showed them the perfect picture of a suffering mother, struggling to push herself halfway up from the floor. Her knees pressed into the sharp glass as she collected the blood-stained fragments. She clutched the pieces to her chest while tears streamed down her face.
"My photo," Caroline's voice came out hoarse and anguished. "Our family photo."
"Madam, please get up," Henry cried out in panic. "Your hands are bleeding."
"Oh God, our photo." Caroline sobbed and shook her head.
I watched this convincing performance coldly. She displayed her injured hands perfectly for everyone to see. I'd never seen a woman with such flawless acting skills.
"She's lying," I said loudly, though I knew how little credibility I had with this crowd. "She fell on her own. I never touched her."
The room went dead silent. Every eye turned on me, full of condemnation and disgust.
"Miss Gray," Henry spoke. His voice was soft but carried a chilling hostility. "Madam is badly hurt."
"I'm not blind. I can see she's hurt," I shot back. "But she did it to herself."
"Evelyn, I never wanted to compete with you for anything," Caroline wailed.
She wasn't looking at me—she was performing for the servants.
"I already admitted my mistakes. I promised you I'd leave immediately.
I'll buy a plane ticket back to England.
I have no intention of stealing Victor. I just wanted to keep one last family memory. "
She held up the blood-stained scraps with trembling hands.
"This was Julian's most precious possession," Caroline sobbed, nearly choking. "He kept this photo by his bed since he was a child. Why would you destroy it?"
A young maid started crying.
"I didn't do anything," I raised my voice. I fought to control my emotions. "You know the truth."
Whispers spread through the group. A maid muttered something crude and angry.
I suddenly understood the brutal truth. No matter what I said, not a single person in this room would take my side. These were Victor's employees.
They'd known Caroline for years. I was just some stranger who'd burst into their world. No—worse than a stranger. In their minds, I was evil.
I shut my mouth. Any defense would be pointless here.
Then the door opened again. I turned to see Victor walk in.
Perfect. All the pieces were in place. I strongly suspected this woman had known exactly when Victor would return.
Victor still wore the charcoal suit he'd left in that morning.
The jacket hung over his forearm. His shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows.
His hair was disheveled, stubble shadowed his jaw.
He carried the bitter cold from outside and a heavy exhaustion.
I didn't know how long he'd been working. He hadn't slept at all last night.
Victor stopped just inside the door and scanned the room. His eyes found me and paused. Then his brow furrowed deeply.
"What the hell happened here?" Victor's voice was low and commanding.
Caroline immediately looked up. Her eyes were red and swollen, hair stuck to her tear-streaked face, knees covered in blood and black dirt.
I had to admit—for one moment, even I almost believed her innocence.
"Victor," Caroline's voice came out barely audible. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I'll leave right now. I'll pack my things. I'll take a flight back to London tonight. I promise I'll never disturb your life again."
"Caroline." Victor strode over and crouched down. "Your hands are bleeding."
"It's nothing," Caroline shook her head. Tears spilled over again. "It doesn't hurt at all."
"What happened?" Victor demanded again.
"It doesn't matter, Victor. I don't care." Caroline took a shaky breath. "I just wanted to keep one photo of Julian and me. But—" She choked on a sob. "Forget it. None of this matters anymore."
The young maid who'd been crying suddenly found her courage.
"Sir," her voice trembled—speaking to Victor seemed to take all her strength. "When I came in, I saw Madam pushed to the ground with Miss Gray standing over her, looking furious."
"I did no such thing," I snapped at the maid.
Victor stood and looked straight at me.
"Evelyn." Victor said my name.
"She did this to herself," I stated the facts without backing down.
I stared at them. This whole room full of people. They stood in front of Victor and lied to my face without shame. They testified against me with such certainty, working together to paint me as some vicious monster. Was my presence really that intolerable?
I turned to Victor. His eyes held no anger—only a deep, endless exhaustion, like he might collapse at any moment.
"Evelyn," Victor said my name again.
"I didn't push her," I insisted stubbornly.
"I know you have serious issues with her," Victor's voice dropped low. "I know this situation has been suffocating you. But you went too far."
"Victor, everyone else can doubt me, but not you," I cut him off.
Victor looked like he had no energy left to investigate this pathetic domestic drama. He sighed and helped Caroline to her feet. Caroline gripped his arms tightly and leaned against his chest, crying weakly.
"Get Caroline to the downstairs sitting room immediately. Call the private doctor to come treat her wounds," Victor ordered Henry.
"Yes, sir."
Two maids rushed forward and carefully supported Caroline. As she left, Caroline said nothing. She just buried her face in a maid's shoulder and wept softly.
Someone muttered about letting it go at that. Victor silenced them with a sharp look. The servants quickly left with Caroline to tend her injuries.
The room went quiet. The chaos had sucked all the air out. Black dirt, broken frame pieces, and a few drops of stark blood littered the tiles.
"You believe her, don't you?" I looked straight at him.
"Evelyn." He cut me off. "I don't have the energy to deal with domestic drama right now."
"She was lying," I insisted.
"I didn't say you were lying," Victor replied.
"But I've publicly announced your identity to every major player in New York.
You're the woman at my side. Everyone knows that.
I brought you into this completely secure manor.
I've demanded that every person under my command respect you.
I even kissed you publicly at that controversial ball.
You have absolute status. Evelyn, you don't need to compete with Caroline for meaningless things. "
"I never competed with her for anything," I protested loudly.
"Then why did someone tell me you went looking for Caroline first thing this morning, spoiling for a fight?" Victor shot back.
Spoiling for a fight? What a joke. I'd gone there with genuine intentions to smooth things over. This was absurd.
I opened my mouth.
I desperately wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him Caroline had viciously cursed my father to die without a proper burial. That she'd called me a cheap woman who traded her body for protection. She'd torn open my deepest, most painful wounds with precision and cruelty.
But looking at Victor's exhausted face, I suddenly lost all desire to explain.
If I told him all this, what would he think? He'd just assume I was venting and tattling, confirming I was exactly the petty, jealous woman Caroline had described.
I didn't want to make myself more pathetic.
Victor let out a heavy sigh. That weary sound made my heart clench.
"Stop being so childish. Please," Victor's voice held an edge of frustration.
"Things outside are already a disaster. Your father's disappearance still has no solid leads.
Julian's out there, recklessly causing me problems left and right.
Several of my core managers just turned out to be leaking information.
I'm sleeping less than four hours a night.
When I come home, I just need my woman not to act immature, not to get into some low-level physical altercation with another woman. "
Victor finished speaking and turned toward the door.
I stared at him. My eyes burned. My vision blurred. I'd tried in good faith to make peace, and I'd been painted as the troublemaker. The injustice tightened my throat.
"You choose to believe her tears and their false testimony," I said to his broad back. "You just don't believe me."
Victor didn't turn around. He paused at the door for a few seconds. His shoulders sagged slightly.
"I'm really busy today, Evelyn," he said coldly.
Then he walked out of the room.