Chapter 2 - The Matriarch’s Farewell
Three days later, the sky opened up, pouring rain over the sprawling Reed family estate.
It was a fitting backdrop for a funeral.
Eleanor Reed was dead.
She had been a force of nature, the true architect of the Reed family wealth, and, unexpectedly, the closest thing I had to a real mother.
While Daniel had spent our marriage building walls, Eleanor had spent it building bridges between us.
She knew her son.
She knew his arrogance, his ambition, and his flaws.
I stood under a black umbrella near the back of the graveside service, wrapped in a dark coat, feeling entirely hollow.
Daniel stood at the front.
He looked immaculate in his tailored black suit, playing the part of the grieving, devoted son for the cameras clicking in the distance.
But he wasn't alone.
Lila was there.
She stood just a few feet behind him, her hand resting conspicuously on her pregnant belly, wearing a black maternity dress that looked expensive and entirely inappropriate for a solemn occasion.
The audacity of it made my blood boil.
Daniel hadn't even waited for his mother's body to be buried before parading his mistress in front of elite society.
Whispers rippled through the crowd of tech CEOs, politicians, and socialites.
I ignored them.
My grief for Eleanor was real; my grief for my marriage was rapidly turning into something else.
Cold, hard anger.
After the service, the immediate family and close associates were summoned to the estate's grand library for the reading of the will.
I hadn't planned on attending. I assumed I was no longer family.
But as I turned toward my car, a hand gently touched my shoulder.
It was Mr. Sterling, the family’s longtime attorney.
"Ava, please," he said softly, his ancient eyes carrying a weight I couldn't quite decipher. "Eleanor insisted you be there. It's mandatory."
I nodded, following him inside the sprawling mansion.
The library smelled of old paper, leather bindings, and rain.
Daniel was already seated at the head of the long oak table, pouring himself a bourbon.
Lila sat next to him, tracing the rim of a crystal glass, looking at the room as if she were already picking out new curtains.
When I walked in, Daniel sighed.
"What is she doing here, Sterling?" he snapped, not even looking at me. "She's not family anymore. We're finalizing the divorce."
"She is here because your mother demanded it, Daniel," Mr. Sterling replied firmly, taking his seat and opening his leather briefcase.
Lila scoffed softly, leaning into Daniel’s shoulder.
"Let her stay, babe," she whispered loud enough for me to hear. "It'll be good closure for her to see us take over."
I sat at the far end of the table, folding my hands in my lap, staring blankly at the mahogany grain.
I expected Eleanor to leave me a trinket. A piece of jewelry. A letter of apology for her son's behavior.
I expected Daniel to inherit the empire he so desperately coveted.
Mr. Sterling cleared his throat, adjusting his reading glasses.
"Let us begin."
May you like
The room fell deathly silent.
And in less than five minutes, the entire trajectory of my life—and Daniel’s—was about to violently violently derail.
