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.

The heavy thud of the duffel bag echoed against the pink walls, shattering the brief silence in the room.

Augustus looked at the icy hostility radiating from Eleonora's eyes. A strange flicker of panic sparked in his chest. He decided to soften his approach.

He took a step forward and opened his arms, offering a warm, familiar hug to calm her down.

"Elly," Augustus said, his voice dropping an octave, dripping with manufactured tenderness. "Welcome home. We really missed you."

Eleonora watched him approach. Her mind flashed to the nightmare-the memory of Augustus standing by coldly while the internet tore her to shreds. Her stomach twisted into a tight, nauseating knot.

Just as his hands were about to brush the fabric of her trench coat, Eleonora took a sharp, massive step to the right.

Augustus grabbed nothing but empty air. His arms hung awkwardly in the space between them. The mask of tenderness on his face cracked instantly.

He stared at her in disbelief. The girl who used to follow him around, desperate for his attention, now looked at him like he was a disease.

Isaac frowned deeply, disgusted by her behavior. He thought she was being incredibly cruel, trampling all over Augustus's goodwill.

Eleonora brushed her shoulder with her hand, a physical gesture of absolute revulsion. "Stay away from me. I feel dirty."

The words hit Augustus like a physical slap across the face. The light in his eyes died, replaced by a dark, simmering anger.

He dropped his arms and shoved his hands deep into his tailored pockets. His voice turned hard. "What is your problem, Eleonora? Why are you throwing a tantrum?"

He pointed toward the hallway. "The guest rooms in the south wing are empty. You need rest. Go sleep there tonight so we don't ruin the party."

Addisyn peeked out from behind Isaac, her voice small and sweet. "Yes, sister. The guest rooms are very quiet. I promise I'll move out of the master bedroom tomorrow."

Eleonora let out a sharp, mocking laugh. The sound was entirely devoid of humor; it was pure, concentrated ridicule.

She locked her piercing gaze onto Augustus, looking at him as if he were completely brain-dead. "You want me, the only legal heir to the Carlisle family, to sleep in a guest room?"

She raised a finger and pointed it straight at Addisyn. "And leave the master bedroom to a parasite with no blood ties and no legal adoption papers?"

The word "parasite" hit Addisyn like a bullet. All the color drained from her face, and fat tears began to roll rapidly down her cheeks.

Isaac took an angry step forward. "Your words are disgusting, Eleonora. You have absolutely no class."

Eleonora didn't flinch. She met Isaac's furious glare head-on. "Class is reserved for human beings. Not for thieves who steal other people's property."

Augustus tried to use logic to crush her rebellion. "This house is legally under your father's name. Clyde has the right to decide who sleeps in which room."

Eleonora looked at Augustus with deep pity. "It seems your pre-law classes at the Ivy League were a complete waste of money."

She reached into the deep pocket of her trench coat, pulled out a neatly folded legal document, and whipped it directly at Augustus's chest.

The papers hit him with a sharp smack and fluttered open. Augustus instinctively caught the top page and glanced down.

His pupils contracted violently.

The document clearly stated that the entire estate was held in an irrevocable trust established by the late Eleonora Sr.

And upon turning eighteen, Eleonora had automatically assumed absolute, unchallengeable ownership of the property.

"Clyde only has residency rights," Eleonora stated, her voice ringing with absolute authority. "I am the sole owner of this estate."

Augustus's hand trembled slightly as he gripped the paper. His arrogant logic and biased defense were instantly pulverized by hard legal proof.

Isaac saw the look of defeat on Augustus's face and realized immediately that they had lost. His aggressive posture deflated.

Eleonora crossed her arms over her chest, delivering her final verdict. "Now. Get the hell out of my room."