Chapter 282
[ 488 words ]
Chapter 282:
Cornelia’s face was a mask of pure agony. She was being systematically dismantled by the patriarch, and Caroline hadn’t even had to lift a finger.
Jarrod watched the exchange, a proud smirk playing on his lips. He reached under the table, his large left hand finding Caroline’s to offer a silent, grounding pressure of support.
Caroline glanced at him, her eyes shining with shared triumph. She subtly squeezed his hand in return.
The rest of the dinner was a masterclass in psychological torture for Cornelia and Harper, as the General continued to engage only with Caroline and Jarrod.
Dessert was served. Cornelia excused herself abruptly, claiming a sudden migraine. She was unable to endure another second of her daughter’s displacement.
As Cornelia walked past Caroline’s chair, Caroline leaned back slightly.
“I hope the tea stain came out,” Caroline whispered softly, almost inaudibly.
Cornelia stiffened. Her spine snapped rigid, but she didn’t dare cause a scene in front of the General. She fled the room in utter defeat.
𝗝𝗈𝗂n 𝗍𝗁o𝗎𝘴aո𝘥𝘀 𝗈𝖿 𝖿anѕ 𝗈n 𝘨а𝗅𝗇𝗼𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘀.𝖼о𝗺
The dinner concluded. The General dismissed them, telling Jarrod that he expected to see more of his wife at family functions.
Jarrod and Caroline walked out of the estate, victorious. The battle of the dining room had been won, cementing Caroline’s untouchable status in the hierarchy.
In her private quarters at the Romero estate, Cornelia paced the floor like a caged animal. Her silk dress was still stained with dried tea.
Harper sat on the velvet sofa. She sobbed uncontrollably about how the General had humiliated her in front of that “trashy nurse.”
Cornelia abruptly stopped pacing. She walked over and slapped her daughter sharply across the face.
“Stop crying and start thinking!” Cornelia ordered, her voice shrill.
She looked at her reflection in the antique mirror, her mind calculating the shifting balance of power. She realized that as long as Caroline was alive and firmly by Jarrod’s side, her own daughter Harper would never secure a prominent place in the hierarchy, and her own grip on the Romero empire’s vast resources would slip away completely.
She walked over to her secure wall safe. She inputted the code with trembling fingers and pulled out a burner phone.
Cornelia made a silent, unbreakable vow. If she couldn’t buy Caroline off, and she couldn’t socially destroy her, she would have to eliminate her foundation entirely.
She dialed a heavily encrypted number. It was the same contractor she had used years ago to orchestrate the “accident” that had left Caroline’s father permanently disabled and broken, a man who had been silenced for his relentless investigation into the Romero family’s illicit affairs.
“I need a Code Red cleanup,” Cornelia whispered into the receiver. “Target her mother. Let her know the pain of losing the last remnant of her family. Break the girl’s spirit completely.”
Meanwhile, miles away from the brewing conspiracy, Jarrod’s armored SUV arrived back at the secure penthouse.
Caroline kicked off the diamond-encrusted stilettos the moment she stepped inside. She groaned as she rubbed her aching arches.
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