One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 03

One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 03

I was curious to see what kind of drama they had managed to stage without me, the “vicious, crazy woman,” on set.

“Where is Julian supposed to show his face! What about the Griffin family’s prestige! You vicious woman!”

Looking at the radiant, cold-eyed woman in the mirror, I smiled with satisfaction.

In the background, I could hear the crash of something being smashed.

“So what! Men will be men, it was just a bit of fun! Did you have to blow it up for the whole world to see? Can’t you just endure it for Julian’s prestige, for this family?”

With that, I hung up.

I picked up the latte from the table and took a sip. The warm liquid was a small comfort.

“I’m fine.” Hearing her voice, my coiled nerves relaxed a fraction.

“You’re still playing dumb with me!” Her volume shot up another octave.

“Eleanor, you should be asking your dear son what he’s done.”

The higher she built her pedestal of pity, the harder she would fall when the truth came out.

Then, Eleanor’s tone shifted from fury to a kind of righteous entitlement.

I grabbed my car keys and walked out the door.

“The bullet has been fired. Now we just wait for it to land.”

“And besides, it’s time I had a chat with our two leads.”

“I’m going to headquarters.”

“You! What is that attitude!” She was sputtering now. “Aurelia, let me tell you, the Griffin family will not have a woman of questionable character!”

“So? What’s your plan? You’re not just going to let her spin the narrative, are you?” Sloane sounded concerned.

I wasn’t looking for a temporary victory in a war of words.

“I wanted it to be a madhouse.”

Sloane was my college roommate, my best friend, and now one of Chicago’s top private investigators.

Aurelia Rhodes, welcome back.

And I knew a trap was waiting for me there.

I enunciated every word with chilling clarity.

“Look at what you’ve done! Now the entire inner circle knows!”

Then, I sat at my vanity and applied a sharp, sophisticated look.

My car was a white, bulletproof Cadillac Escalade.

I looked out at the bright sunshine, speaking slowly.

Then, I blocked her number.

If Cassia wanted to play the victim and win sympathy, I’d let her.

I listened in silence, letting her vent.

I paired it with a pair of five-inch black stilettos.

The car drove smoothly toward the Obsidian Club in the city center.

“Eleanor, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Inside were my new clothes, tags still attached.

“That’s wonderful,” I replied lightly. “You should have him find one immediately. I won’t stand in his way.”

I wanted to nail her to a cross of shame she could never climb down from.

In a PR war, the worst thing you can do is let your opponent dictate the pace.

“Apologize?” The curve of my lips grew colder. “Is she even worthy?”

“Alright!” Sloane’s voice was thrilled. “Want me to come? For backup! I’m free today, I can be there in a flash.”

Thinking about it now, he truly saw the future.

“But what’s your next move? I hear this assistant, Cassia, is no pushover.”

“That sweet girl Cassia was kind enough to look after him, and you repay her kindness with this vicious attack! Where are your manners? Your dignity as the Donna?”

“Brilliant move!” Sloane made no secret of her support. “You can’t go easy on cheating bastards and their mistresses!”

When she finally seemed to exhaust herself, panting heavily into the phone, I spoke, slowly and deliberately.

There was a beat of silence on the other end.

“Fine by me,” I said. “I’ll be waiting for the summons to the family meeting.”

“And they certainly don’t involve that woman getting a snake tattooed over my rose and then sending me a photo to gloat about it.”

“You get back to the estate right now, get on that channel, and explain to everyone that you were just joking! Then you will apologize to little Cassia, and we’ll let this matter drop!”

I answered.

The final touch was a slash of crimson lipstick—sharp and unapologetic.

“Endure it?” I laughed. “Eleanor, this is Chicago, not nineteenth-century Sicily.”

“Do you want every crime family in Chicago to laugh at the Griffins?!”

“You ungrateful bitch! Don’t you think for a second that Julian can’t live without you! Let me tell you, women are lining up to marry into this family! Women who are younger, prettier, and more sensible than you!”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “Let her perform.”

“Good, you scared me to death! That was a ruthless move, detonating it right in the family channel. The entire underworld is talking.”

Eleanor’s voice was hoarse and cracking with rage.

I chose a pristine white haute couture suit.

Slim cut, structured shoulders, with a skirt slit to the knee.

“No.”

The show has only just begun.

He said it would protect me while displaying my status as the Principessa of the Griffin family.

“She’s been crying all over headquarters, telling anyone who will listen that she was framed and that you misunderstood her. She’s painting you as the vicious, crazy wife.”

After hanging up, I walked into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe.

It was the last gift my father had left me.

“There are some things I need to retrieve myself.”

“Aurelia! You finally turned on your phone! Are you okay?” Sloane Donovan’s anxious voice crackled through the speaker.

“No need,” I declined. “This is my battlefield. I’ll handle it myself.”

“I know. I saw her novel in the channel.”

Never asking for the truth, twisting right and wrong, always protecting her son.

My phone vibrated again. This time, it was the familiar icon of my best friend.

“What about you? What are you doing today? Just hiding out in the apartment?” Sloane asked.

Destination: family headquarters.

“Your family headquarters must be a madhouse today,” Sloane said, her tone laced with gleeful excitement.

“What could he have done! He’s a man. Isn’t it normal for him to have a few drinks at a business dinner?”

There lay the empire Julian and I had built together.

“You just wait! I’m going to have Julian dissolve this marriage! A woman like you deserves to be thrown out on the street with nothing!”

“My idea of manners is my husband not sleeping in another woman’s bed on our anniversary.”

I held the phone slightly away from my ear, my tone flat.

That was my dear mother-in-law. A lesson I had learned long ago.