Cody let out a loud, wet hiccup and took two heavy steps toward Eleonora.

He used his height to loom over her, his bloodshot eyes filled with absolute contempt.

The guests in the foyer crossed their arms and formed a tight half-circle around them, eager to watch the drama unfold.

The sour stench of cheap whiskey mixed with an overpowering, expensive cologne hit Eleonora's nose. Her stomach churned, and she pulled her brows together in deep disgust.

She didn't waste a single word on him. She shifted her duffel bag and tried to step through the narrow gap between Cody and the staircase railing.

Feeling ignored, Cody's face flushed a darker shade of red. He lunged forward, throwing his thick arm out to grab her shoulder.

Eleonora's body reacted on pure instinct, honed by the countless physical traumas she had endured in her prophetic nightmares.

She dropped her shoulder, twisted her torso sideways, and slid her right foot back. Cody's sweaty hand grasped nothing but empty air.

Because he had thrown his entire weight into the grab, his momentum carried him forward. He stumbled hard, his heavy boots slipping on the polished marble.

The whiskey sloshed out of his glass, splashing directly onto his expensive white suit pants.

A muffled ripple of laughter erupted from the circle of guests.

Cody's face twisted in pure rage. He spun around, glaring at Eleonora as if he wanted to rip her apart with his bare hands.

Suddenly, his eyes locked onto the vintage Chanel bag peeking out from the unzipped top of Eleonora's duffel bag.

It was a limited-edition piece, a priceless heirloom left behind by Eleonora's mother that she had carefully tucked away for safekeeping.

Cody, a street-level thug who only knew brands from rap videos, pointed a shaking finger at the exposed leather and screamed.

"You thief! That's my cousin Addi's bag! How the hell did you steal that?"

The crowd gasped. The looks of disgust directed at Eleonora instantly morphed into open hostility and contempt.

The blond boy who had blocked her earlier immediately chimed in. "I knew it! I saw her sneaking around the porch earlier. She's a burglar!"

Empowered by the crowd's support, Cody grinned maliciously. He lunged forward again, this time reaching directly for the exposed strap of the Chanel bag.

Eleonora's eyes turned pitch black. She stopped dodging.

Her hand shot out like a striking snake. Her fingers locked around Cody's thick wrist with terrifying precision.

Using the brutal mechanics of Krav Maga, she pivoted on her heel, using her entire body weight as leverage. She twisted his arm inward and snapped it downward with explosive force.

A sharp, sickening crack echoed over the music.

Cody let out a high-pitched scream of agony. His knees buckled instantly, and he crashed onto the marble floor, forced to kneel directly at Eleonora's feet. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over Eleonora from the explosive exertion. Her right hand trembled slightly under the sleeve of her coat, a harsh reminder of her frail, recovering body, but she forced her posture to remain perfectly still.

Eleonora stared down at him. Sweat poured down his pale face, his features contorted in pain. She looked at him as if he were a piece of rotting trash.

Dead silence fell over the foyer. The wealthy teenagers stared in absolute horror at the frail-looking girl who had just broken a grown man's wrist in a split second.

Cody slapped his good hand against the floor, screaming, "Security! Grab this crazy bitch! Kill her!"

Heavy footsteps pounded against the marble. Five estate security guards, dressed in tactical black, rushed through the crowd with their batons drawn.

The new head of security saw Cody writhing on the floor and immediately pointed his baton at Eleonora. "Separate them!" he barked at his men, before turning a stern eye to Eleonora. "Ma'am, please stay exactly where you are. We need to understand what happened here before anyone else gets hurt."

Eleonora released Cody's wrist. She calmly brushed a nonexistent speck of dust off her trench coat.

She stared at the closing circle of guards, her posture relaxed, her breathing perfectly steady. She didn't step back.

Just as the closest guard raised his hand to grab her collar, a furious, booming voice shattered the tension from the top of the spiral staircase.

"Stop this instantly!"

Every muscle in the foyer froze at the sound of that voice. All eyes snapped upward toward the grand spiral staircase.

Alistair Pembroke, the estate's head butler, was marching down the steps. His silver hair was perfectly combed, his black tailcoat immaculate, and his spine stiff with absolute authority.

Alistair had served the Bryant family for two generations. In this house, his word was law.

Cody saw the butler and immediately started whining, holding his broken wrist. "Alistair! This psycho thief broke into the house and attacked me! Call the cops!"

The new head of security stepped forward, his voice tight with adrenaline. "Sir, we are preparing to restrain the intruder and hand her over to the police."

Alistair didn't even look at them. His eyes were locked entirely on the girl in the trench coat.

It had been months since he had seen her. Half of her face was hidden behind a black mask, and her frame was worryingly thin, but Alistair would never mistake those cold, unyielding eyes.

Tears instantly welled up in the old man's eyes. He picked up his pace, practically shoving the head of security out of his way.

He stopped two feet in front of Eleonora and bent at the waist, executing a perfect, ninety-degree bow.

"Welcome home, Miss Eleonora," Alistair said, his voice trembling with deep emotion. "You have suffered."

The entire foyer went dead silent. It was as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Cody's jaw dropped open. The color completely drained from his face.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through the security captain's tactical shirt. He realized with a sickening jolt that he had just ordered his men to attack the true heir of the Carlisle estate.

Eleonora reached up and pulled the black mask off her face. The stress rash was visible, but it did nothing to diminish the breathtaking, icy beauty of her features.

She gave Alistair a slight nod. "Alistair," she said, her voice perfectly calm. "When did the security standards of this estate drop so low?"

The words were spoken softly, but they hit the security guards like physical blows.

Alistair straightened his back. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a terrifying, cold fury. He spun around and glared at Cody.

"You filthy piece of trash," Alistair spat, his voice echoing in the high ceilings. "How dare you accuse the true mistress of this estate of theft!"

He pointed a shaking finger at the vintage bag on Eleonora's shoulder. "That bag belonged to the late Mrs. Carlisle. It is a custom piece. There is not another one like it in the world."

The wealthy teenagers shrank back, staring at the floor. The blond boy who had accused her earlier tried to hide behind a tall girl, his face pale with terror.

Alistair turned his furious gaze to the security captain. "Throw this foul-mouthed thug out of the gates. Now."

Desperate to save his job, the captain barked an order. Two massive guards lunged forward, grabbing Cody by his armpits.

They dragged him backward across the marble floor like a dead dog.

Cody thrashed wildly, screaming toward the second floor, "Addisyn! Addi, help me!"

The captain yanked a clean microfiber cloth from his belt and shoved it brutally into Cody's mouth, silencing him instantly.

The heavy oak doors were pulled open, and Cody was thrown out into the cold night. The doors slammed shut, cutting off his muffled screams.

Alistair's sharp eyes then swept over the group of teenagers who had mocked Eleonora. "The rest of you. Get out of this hall."

The guards stepped forward, their hands resting on their batons. The teenagers didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled toward the side doors, fleeing the foyer in absolute panic.

The air in the hall turned freezing cold. No one dared to look Eleonora in the eye.

Eleonora hooked the mask back over her ears. She picked up her duffel bag and, with Alistair following respectfully a step behind her, began her ascent up the grand staircase.

Eleonora's boots sank into the thick Persian runner as she walked down the second-floor hallway, passing rows of heavy, gilded family portraits.

Alistair walked half a step behind her, his voice low as he quickly briefed her on the staff changes that had occurred during her hospitalization.

She stopped in front of a set of massive, carved double doors. It was the master bedroom-the largest room in the estate, boasting the best view of the grounds.

She wrapped her hand around the cold brass handle, pressed it down, and pushed the doors open.

The sight inside made her pupils contract sharply.

The elegant, minimalist decor she remembered had been completely eradicated. The walls were painted a nauseating shade of macaron pink.

Massive, heavily retouched photos of Addisyn wearing a ballet tutu and holding a violin covered the walls.

In the center of the room, sitting at a vanity table in front of a massive French bed, was Addisyn. Two makeup artists were hovering over her, touching up her lip gloss.

Sitting on the European-style velvet sofa across the room were two young men, both radiating wealth and privilege: Isaac Olson and Augustus Harrington.

At the sound of the heavy doors opening, all four heads turned toward the entrance.

Addisyn's eyes widened as she recognized Eleonora. The loose powder brush slipped from her fingers and hit the marble vanity with a sharp clack.

A flash of genuine panic crossed Addisyn's perfectly contoured face, but she instantly buried it beneath a mask of wide-eyed innocence. "Elly?" Augustus said, his brow furrowing as he noticed her trench coat. "What was all that noise downstairs? We heard shouting and a crash."

Eleonora stepped into the room, her face completely expressionless. Alistair stopped at the threshold, standing guard.

Eleonora's dark eyes swept over the ruined room, finally locking onto Addisyn's face.

"You have ten minutes," Eleonora said, her voice dropping the temperature in the room by ten degrees. "Get all of your trash out of my room."

Addisyn shot up from her vanity stool like a frightened deer. Her eyes instantly welled with tears, large drops pooling perfectly on her lower lashes.

She twisted the fabric of her pink dress in her hands. "I'm so sorry, sister," her voice trembled pitifully. "Dad said the lighting in here was better for my violin practice. He told me to move in..."

She emphasized the word "Dad," deliberately using Clyde's authority to press down on Eleonora. Eleonora watched the performance with cold detachment. The tears, the trembling voice... it was all exactly as her nightmare had shown, a perfectly executed script. And she knew exactly what digital tool, hidden away on Addisyn's phone, was helping her run these flawless, manipulative lines.

Isaac's eyes widened for a fraction of a second as he truly took in Eleonora's pale, thinned-out frame. A flicker of genuine shock crossed his face, a ghost of his past affection for his childhood fiancée, before it rapidly hardened into displeasure. Isaac immediately stood up from the sofa. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with clear displeasure. He took three long strides and positioned himself directly in front of Addisyn, shielding her with his broad shoulders.

"Are you out of your mind?" Isaac demanded, his tone harsh and scolding. "You just got out of the hospital. Addi is exhausted from preparing for her party today."

Eleonora stared at the man who was supposed to be her childhood fiancé. Seeing him act like a guard dog for her replacement didn't break her heart; it only made her feel a deep, hollow sense of amusement.

"Who the hell are you," Eleonora shot back, her voice slicing through the air like a blade, "to lecture me inside my own house?"

Isaac choked on his next words. He stared at her in shock, unable to reconcile this freezing, ruthless woman with the quiet, compliant girl he used to know.

Augustus, who had been sitting on the sofa playing with a silver lighter, finally stood up.

He walked over on his long legs, stepping between Isaac and Eleonora, clearly intending to play the peacemaker.

He used his signature lazy, coaxing tone, the one he always used to defuse tension.

"Alright, Elly. Let's not make this ugly. We're all family. Addi didn't mean any harm."

Safely hidden behind two powerful men, Addisyn let out a soft, pathetic sob.

The fierce protection from two top-tier heirs fed Addisyn's vanity perfectly. A tiny, triumphant smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth.

Eleonora caught the micro-expression instantly. She let out a short, cold laugh and dropped her heavy canvas duffel bag. It hit the hardwood floor with a loud, final thud.