Chapter 3 - The Ghost of the Estate
The car sped away from the sprawling mansion, leaving the bright lights of the
party behind in a blur of gold and red. Inside the vehicle, the silence was
heavy, broken only by the soft hum of the engine. Preston kept one hand on the
steering wheel, while the other reached across the console to hold Esther’s
hand. Her skin was rough, marred by chemical burns from the harsh cleaning
supplies. He felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. “How long, Esther?” he
asked, his voice thick with emotion. “How long have they been doing this to
you?” Esther looked out the window, watching the streetlights pass by like
fleeting memories. “It started a week after you left for London,” she said
quietly. “At first, it was just small comments.” “Gabriela said I didn’t know
how to dress,” she continued, her voice barely audible. “Then your mother told
me I was a distraction to your career.” “They took my phone, Preston.” “They
told me that if I contacted you, they would make sure your father’s business
partners pulled their funding.” Preston’s grip on the steering wheel tightened
until his knuckles turned white. “They used my love for you as a weapon against
me,” she whispered. “I stayed in that kitchen because I thought I was protecting
your future.” Preston pulled the car over to the side of a deserted road and
killed the engine. He turned to face her, his heart breaking at the sight of her
faded dress. “My future is nothing without you,” he said, reaching out to brush
a stray hair from her face. “I built all of this so we could be happy, not so
you could be a slave to their ego.” Esther finally let out a sob, a sound that
had been bottled up for months. She leaned into his chest, and he held her as
she wept. He realized then that the physical labor wasn't the worst part. It was
the isolation. It was the way they had tried to strip away her dignity. “I have
a penthouse downtown,” Preston said, trying to remain calm for her sake. “It’s
in my name only.” “None of them have the key.” “None of them even know it
exists.” He restarted the car, feeling a new sense of purpose. He wasn't just a
businessman anymore. He was a man at war with his own bloodline. As they drove
toward the city skyline, he began making a list in his head. He knew his mother
would fight back. She controlled the family trusts and the social circles. But
she had forgotten one thing. Preston was the one who had doubled the family’s
wealth in the last five years. He knew every secret, every tax loophole, and
every offshore account. If they wanted to treat his wife like a servant, he
would treat them like enemies. By the time they reached the penthouse, Esther
had fallen into a restless sleep. He carried her inside, passing the
floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. He laid her down on the soft,
white linens of a bed that didn't smell like dish soap. He sat by her side for
May you like
hours, watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon. The war was just
beginning. But for the first time in a long time, Esther was safe.
