Chapter 4 - The Price of a NameOn Friday morning, the delivery trucks arrived with the velvet draperies and crystal centerpieces for the private Saturday reception. Vanessa marched through the grand ballroom like a general inspecting a conquered territory, barking orders at the exhausted staff.
Maya and I were carefully carrying a massive gold-leaf mirror across the gallery when Vanessa shouted behind us.
“Pick this up, both of you, and then get out of my room!” Vanessa yelled, pointing to a stack of heavy wooden crates. She turned to Maya, snatching a delicate silk runner from her hands. “Take this off! It’s filthy!”
“Madam, this belongs to the estate,” Maya said respectfully. “This is for the mistress of this house.”
Vanessa slapped Maya’s hand away. “The mistress of this house is ME!”
She pointed dramatically at the central wall of the gallery, where my 1980 portrait hung in its heavy antique frame.
“On Saturday, my portrait will hang on that wall!” Vanessa boasted, her voice ringing through the hall. “Hers is going straight into the basement!”
She turned to two contract movers who were preparing to lower the painting. “Carefully! If you scratch that frame, I'll deduct it from your salary. Oh, wait... you don't earn that much anyway.”
Maya stood beside me, watching Vanessa admire the painting. “She is beautiful,” Maya murmured softly, glancing sideways at my face, realizing the striking resemblance behind my wrinkles. “Who is she really?”
“A girl who didn't let anyone tell her where she belonged,” I answered quietly.
Vanessa walked over to her vanity table in the master suite, where a glittering diamond necklace rested on a black velvet cushion. It was the Vance Family Heirloom—a three-hundred-carat masterpiece featuring rare Burmese rubies.
“Put this on me,” Vanessa commanded, backing up toward me. “Carefully. This necklace is worth more than your entire life. Only two women have ever worn it—Elijah’s late mother and his grandmother. On Saturday I will be the third.”
She turned around, looking down her nose at my apron. “And that old witch will put it on me herself when she bows to me tomorrow night.”
I reached out with my bandaged hands, carefully lifting the heavy platinum clasp, keeping my eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror. “Away,” I whispered under my breath.
Later that afternoon, I slipped into the guest wing to collect the laundry. Through a partially open door, I heard Vanessa on a speakerphone call.
“Doctor?” Vanessa was saying in a hushed, urgent tone. “Yes, Monday at 10:00 AM. One review, one signature. When she is declared incapacitated due to dementia, her grandson will become her legal guardian, and I will be his legal wife with power of attorney. Leave Elijah to me. By Monday, he will believe every word you write in that psychiatric report.”
A man’s voice responded over the phone: “And the property transfer for the estate in Savannah?”
Vanessa giggled. “She would love the gardens down there... in a locked room.”
May you like
I gasped softly, my heel squeaking against the hardwood floor.
Vanessa snapped her head toward the door. “How long have you been standing there?”
Related Stories
