Chapter 803:

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Alden dropped his voice even lower. “There’s something else. Angela and my mom were once inseparable—best friends—before that whole marriage business drove them apart.”

This time, Helena didn’t display the shock he expected. Whatever had happened in the past had already happened. However twisted the last generation’s stories were, she could only meet them head-on now.

After a beat of hesitation, she chose her path: eavesdropping it was.

Helena shot Alden a look brimming with reckless resolve. “Let’s do it together.”

Alden let out a quiet laugh, tossed a glance toward the staircase, and asked, “Are you sure?”

Helena gave a firm nod.

Every time they cooked up something this childish—something completely beneath their supposed dignity—they fell right into sync, like it was second nature.

Ella caught the sly glances they exchanged and fired off a sharp warning. “You two, watch yourselves. Don’t go crashing others’ reunion.”

She’d already decided Delaney was no match for Angela and, in her mind, pictured Angela tearing Delaney apart for sport. Honestly, Ella didn’t care who won; she just wanted to watch the show.

Helena gave Alden a light shove, then tilted over the stair rail, voice laced with mischief. “Miss Reed, I’m about to meet your aunt—want me to pass along any of those charming comments you just made? Oh, and that tirade about poor people—imagine if the public got wind of it. Think they’d drown you out online?”

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝗆

She laced her words with mischief, yet when her gaze landed on the rattled Ella, all that playful bravado faded, replaced by striking sincerity. Privilege was never earned at birth. Those born with silver spoons in their mouths ought to keep their egos in check rather than crush others beneath their heels. The smallest creatures might seem powerless, but even the lowliest insects outlasted the ages. Ordinary people might look fragile, yet they always managed to persevere.

Reaching the landing, Helena silently kicked off her heels. She crept ahead, shoes clutched in her fingers—but with her chin tucked down, she bumped straight into Alden’s solid back.

Irritation edged her whisper. “What’s the holdup?”

But as she glanced up, she already knew the answer. There was no need to ask why Alden had frozen in place. There were only two women inside the guest room, but the hallway bristled with Angela’s bodyguards, exuding silent menace.

“Wow, what a coincidence,” Helena said, shoes still clutched in both hands like makeshift clubs. Finally, she surrendered and placed them on the floor. Her attempt at a smile only made her features contort awkwardly.

Alden’s face stayed neutral, betraying nothing. Still, eavesdropping wasn’t exactly the sort of thing anyone boasted about. Their eyes met—each finding only the other’s discomfort.

Then, quite unexpectedly, the bodyguards traded silent looks and, as one, motioned for them to approach the door. One of the bodyguards, a little too eager, stepped forward and raised his fist to knock. Before his knuckles could touch the wood, Helena darted over—bare feet skimming the floor—and seized his wrist, halting him just in time.

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