Chapter 231:

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Corinne POV

On Saturday morning, a sleek black SUV sent by Cyrus Shepherd arrived at the Sargent estate to pick me up. The drive north into the Catskill Mountains was scenic and tranquil, the bustling Manhattan skyline slowly giving way to rolling hills blanketed in fresh, powdery snow.

When we reached the exclusive mountain resort, Cyrus was waiting outside the private ski lodge with five-year-old Daisy. Her face lit up the moment she saw me, and she ran across the snow to wrap her small arms around my knees.

“Auntie Corinne! You came!” she cheered, her pink knit hat bouncing.

“Of course I came, Daisy,” I said with a warm smile, crouching down to hug her. “I promised we’d practice skiing together.”

𝗤𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘀.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Cyrus approached, dressed in a rugged dark ski jacket that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. His sharp grey eyes held a genuine warmth. “Welcome to the Catskills, Corinne. Thank you for joining us.”

We spent a delightful morning on the beginner slopes. I helped Daisy practice her turns while Cyrus kept a careful, protective eye on us both. Surrounded by Daisy’s innocent laughter and Cyrus’s quiet, respectful company, I felt my spirit completely restored.

Around one o’clock, we took a break for lunch at the mountaintop terrace restaurant overlooking the valley.

We were seated in a window booth, enjoying hot cocoa and soup, when the heavy oak doors of the VIP lounge swung open and a large party stepped out onto the sunlit deck.

My eyes swept casually across the group, and for a fraction of a second, I held my breath.

It was Blake Carlisle and Dayna Nixon, accompanied by Warren Nixon, Sharon Nixon, and several Carlisle Media executives. They were all dressed in matching designer ski gear, and Dayna clung intimately to Blake’s arm while photographers from a private media outlet snapped pictures along the railing.

Blake was in the middle of finalizing a high-profile, sixty-million-dollar private estate purchase in the Catskills, using the transaction as a major public relations display to bolster Dayna’s standing after her humiliation at the Four Seasons.

Beside me, Cyrus looked out at the group, his sharp grey eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the spectacle. Then he turned to me with quiet concern. “Corinne… I didn’t realize Carlisle Media was hosting an estate launch here today.”

I took a slow, calm sip of my cocoa, my expression the very picture of unbothered, executive serenity.

“It’s just capital expenditure for media positioning, Cyrus,” I said softly, my voice perfectly steady. “Blake keeps using financial displays to manage public perception, while I stay focused on what truly matters: my career, my independence, and my daughter.”

Cyrus looked at me for a long moment, deep, unspoken admiration in his eyes. “Your strength is extraordinary, Corinne.”

I smiled at little Daisy, who was happily dunking a marshmallow into her cocoa, completely oblivious to the high-society spectacle unfolding outside the window.

After lunch, we returned to the slopes for another hour. On one of the intermediate runs, I tried to make a sharp turn, caught an edge, and fell hard onto the snow. My right ankle twisted beneath me, and a sharp pain shot up my leg.

I sat there for a moment, trying to assess the damage, when Cyrus glided smoothly to a stop beside me. He crouched down, his brow furrowed with concern. “What happened? Where are you hurt?”

“I think I twisted my ankle,” I admitted, my jaw tight against the pain.

He carefully removed my ski boot and examined the joint. The swelling was already visible. “We need to get you to the medical office. Now.”

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