Chapter 1 Amelia Ridley
Amelia Ridley
The garden room was stuffy that evening, with a heavy cloud forming in the room—not from the summer heat, but the hovering words that each might say. The members of the press cleared their throats, some coughing, trying to break the silence that kept aimlessly dragging on.
Father had insisted that each of them do an interview with the press in their sacred place—their home.
This confused Amelia to no end, and she wondered why their father had invited the vultures into their safe haven, ready to tear into her and her siblings’ flesh, regurgitating and twisting each word they said for every gaping mouth, widened eye, and listening ear in New York.
Nonetheless, they never argued with Father.
What he said went, no matter how they felt.
The Ridley Annual Summer Gala was now also an engagement party for Kavita.
No one knew this but the family. Well, her siblings had had no idea Kavita was even engaged until, as of five hours ago, Father made a mandatory announcement, gloating that, finally, one of his children would be out of the estate.
Father and Mother had raised them—especially Amelia and her sisters—to wed to make their family more powerful. That was the name of the game.
This changed everything for Amelia. Not only was she the eldest sister, and still unwed, in the most illustrious family in the city, but now her youngest sister—who was completely reckless, with scandals to boot—was getting married before she was.
If she didn’t seem unworthy of marriage before, she definitely took the cake now.
It wasn’t because of her looks either. Amelia Rose Ridley was nothing short of stunning by the highest degree.
Her chestnut-brown locks, olive skin tone, and piercing jade-green eyes that seemed to stare into your soul made her a sight to look at.
The problem was the words that escaped her mouth, which made her seem like one of those.
Too bold and brash to be told anything because she always had everything under control, or too blunt when she wasn’t interested in a suitor, scaring them away.
That was the way she liked it, anyway. Her on-again, off-again boyfriend since childhood, Jamison Grant, was the only man she would tolerate, but chatter had spread: If he wouldn’t marry her, then who in the world would?
Amelia bit the tip of her tongue while rolling her eyes with annoyance as each of her siblings waited for her to do something.
That didn’t last long, though, because only one of the interviewers didn’t seem to be taken aback.
If anything, his creepy upside-down smile and prominent missing tooth made it clear that he took joy in the infamous Ridleys’ disarray.
Dale Caimen, the sleazy head journalist of the famed gossip column Metropolitan Musings in The Manhattan Herald, with a smile as wide as a preying wolf, prowled for any weak moments to report back to his greedy coworkers at the paper.
Amelia insisted on calling them the hyenas of New York.
His mere presence was an eyesore, especially his face, weathered from two decades of taunting citizens, but not as much as his daunting burgundy leather briefcase.
It was abnormally large compared to the others’ belongings, as they had small journals, fountain pens, and cigarettes hanging from their dry mouths, thirsting for dirt.
Dale took notice of Amelia’s face, which was now twisted in disgust.
“So are we supposed to wait all day for the future, miss, or can we get to know more of what each of you has done these last seven years? Other than perfecting your poker faces,” Dale said snarkily.
“Mr. Caimen, since you have so much haste, why don’t you give your counterparts a chance to interview my eager siblings. A gentle reminder that they have done quite a few worthy things in their lives. Perhaps you can observe their talents to write about us, not you.”
Amelia took a side glance of her sister Adesua, who shot her eyes to the door. With that, Amelia bolted out into the hallway, her footsteps echoing louder and louder. She wasn’t sure whether her heels were making the sound or it was the constant strumming of her ever-raised heartbeat.
Mr. Caimen’s laugh echoed from the garden room through the hallways, almost devilish.
Amelia wondered whether he was mocking Adesua or her brother Wei, but now was not the time to think about them.
Kavita, the most important detail, was missing.
Usually, her insistence on showing up fashionably late wouldn’t worry anyone, but this party was all about her.
Amelia’s palms glistened with beaded sweat.
She tightened her fists, hoping the staff and early-comers passing by would see her forced smile.
Mr. Caimen had been as ready for them as he would have been for the most prized possessions at an auction.
Amelia peered through every door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kavita hiding somewhere like she had as a child, but to her dismay, her youngest sister was nowhere to be seen.
She made a swift turn toward the garden, needing a chance to breathe even though the thick air felt trapped inside her.
The water fountains sprawled throughout the garden maze and by the lake drowned out the incessant noise of the busy grounds.
Amelia found herself in a trance, watching the water trickle from the fountain’s tiny lion’s mouth.
She chuckled slightly as she looked down the path that led to their perfect private beach that sat along Huntington Bay.
She vividly remembered seeing Kavi’s and Dusie’s faces light up when they first moved here.
They didn’t get peculiar looks from strangers wondering why they were so happy together.
It was like being in their own little world where they could just be themselves.
Amelia didn’t realize how long she had been out there, but she knew someone would be calling for her soon.
Amelia always thought it was a gift given to the eldest daughter of every family: When a sibling needed her without saying her name, she was there as if it was magic.
As she turned around to head back into the garden room, Dale stood there, blocking her path.
“Tell me, Amelia: How on earth does Kavita get involved with a man like Franklin?” he asked before setting down his briefcase and lighting a cigarette.
Amelia wanted so badly to kick that briefcase over and rip up any piece of paper she found in there, sabotaging anything he was working on, just like he had destroyed the reputation of people like her and the rest of high society.
But she exhaled every pent-up feeling of wrath, biting her bottom lip.
“She must have found a way, like you find yours snooping into our everyday lives.” She chuckled before continuing. “I guess you do have one thing in common with people like us.”
Dale nodded, squinting his left eye before clicking his tongue. “Hmm, I suppose so. But we all know how your father raves about his daughters marrying the finest of New York—not the gutter class like Franklin. Unless your father and Kavita have something to hide?”
Amelia felt the knot in her throat grow thicker as she stared right through his beady black eyes.
She swallowed her fear of the what-ifs surrounding her missing sister and her father, who had more secrets to bear.
If she’d learned anything from him, it was to never let a pawn think he knew your next move.
“Actually, if you did better research with that ostentatious briefcase of yours, you would know my father started from those so-called ‘gutters’ you speak of. So yes, Franklin is more than acceptable to my sister Kavita, and has more class than you will ever have,” she said with a pleasing head tilt, hoping he would try her once more.
Dale cocked his eyebrow, twisting his mouth in near defeat.
“If you say so, darling. I must admit, I have other plans for you Ridleys that are far more entertaining than what any of you could say, but I am rather curious who your father shall name his successor.” He winked at her while she took a shuttered look at his briefcase.
Amelia felt her heart stop in that moment.
What could be more entertaining than this party?
One thing Amelia Ridley didn’t like was not knowing about a scandal.
In this case, she knew Mr. Caimen had nothing to speak of them but pure ragged gossip, which he would twist to make sure the city’s elite would remain humbled.
At this moment, she refused to let him do that.
“Oh, I am quite sure our family keeps food on your table at night,” Amelia said calmly, turning to walk away.
“Also, I’ll have you know, if you think you are going to make another headline, tearing down my siblings again, you are surely mistaken, Dale—I mean, Mr. Caimen.
” She brushed by the journalist, shoving into his shoulder as she did.
An hour had passed when Amelia and Adesua heard the sudden blaring of a loud car horn, coming closer to their winding driveway.
“Mellie, I think our little mischievous sister has returned,” Adesua sighed as she pinned a loose curl.
Amelia scrambled toward the window, almost bumping into Adesua to see.
There she was, like a stream of sunrays, smiling and giggling: Kavita Marie Ridley, pulling up in her blue Rolls-Royce.
Her amber-bronzed skin stood out in her signature warm glow as she excitedly waved to everyone as she parked at the estate entrance.
She was nearly hanging from the window. Usually, this would have excited or relieved the two sisters, but not when they had less than two hours until the party started.
“Never mind her, Dusie. I have no time to deal with her games today. Let Mrs. Darla and Mother deal with her. Let’s try on our dresses to see which looks better.”