The Jilted Heiress Reclaims Her Throne

By the time the SUV navigated the grueling evening rush hour traffic and finally reached its destination, night had completely fallen. The black Cadillac SUV rolled to a smooth stop outside the massive wrought-iron gates of the Carlisle estate in Long Island. Eleonora pushed the heavy car door open. Her boots crunched against the gravel driveway, and the chill of the early autumn wind whipped the hem of her khaki trench coat around her legs. "Wait here in the shade," she told the driver, her voice muffled slightly by the black mask. She grabbed her canvas duffel bag from the trunk and began the long walk up the winding driveway toward the main house. Even from a distance, the heavy, vibrating bass of electronic dance music pounded against her chest. Brilliant laser lights in neon pink and blue sliced through the dark night sky above the back gardens, turning the dignified estate into a cheap nightclub. Eleonora stared at the flashing lights, her eyes narrowing into cold slits. She climbed the wide marble steps and stopped in front of the massive oak front doors. She raised her right hand and pressed her index finger against the biometric scanner of the smart lock. The scanner flashed a harsh red light twice. A sharp, high-pitched beep signaled access denied. Eleonora's jaw tightened. She switched hands and pressed her left thumb against the glass. Red light. Access denied. Addisyn hadn't just taken over the house; she had completely wiped Eleonora's biometric data from the system. Eleonora didn't scream. She didn't pound her fists against the wood. She took one calm step back and shifted her gaze to a heavy stone planter sitting on the right side of the porch. She walked over, crouched down, and shoved her weight against the base of the planter. It scraped against the stone floor with a harsh grinding noise. Damp soil coated her fingertips. Inside a small, hidden groove beneath the base, her fingers brushed against a piece of waterproof canvas. She pulled it out and unwrapped a heavy brass spare key. It was a habit her late mother had kept. Not even Clyde knew this key existed. Eleonora slid the brass key into the traditional keyhole hidden beneath the digital pad. She twisted it hard. A heavy, satisfying click echoed in the cold air as the deadbolt retracted. She pushed the heavy oak doors open. The grand foyer was a chaotic sea of floating pink balloons and a towering, expensive champagne pyramid. Over a dozen young men and women in haute couture dresses and tailored suits were clustered near the entrance, laughing loudly with crystal flutes in their hands. The cold wind from the open doors swept into the room, scattering the balloons. The laughter died instantly. Every head snapped toward the entrance. Eleonora stood in the doorway. Dressed in a simple trench coat, her face half-hidden by a black medical mask, holding a canvas duffel bag, she looked entirely alien against the backdrop of extreme wealth. A girl holding a glass of champagne wrinkled her nose, her eyes sweeping over Eleonora with blatant disgust. Whispers broke out immediately. "Is that the cleaning crew?" "Did some crazy stalker fan get past the gates?" Eleonora ignored the stinging whispers. She gripped her bag tighter and walked straight through the crowd, heading directly for the grand staircase. Her total disregard irritated the wealthy teenagers, who were used to being the center of attention. A boy with bleached blond hair stepped out of the group and thrust his arm out, blocking her path. "Hey, how the hell did you get in here?" he demanded loudly, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Take that stupid mask off." Eleonora stopped. She slowly turned her head and locked eyes with the boy. Her gaze was as sharp and cold as a razor blade. The boy swallowed hard, the arrogance draining from his face. He involuntarily took a half-step back, his arm dropping to his side. Before Eleonora could take another step, a slurred, malicious voice echoed from the hallway to her right. "Well, well, well." Cody Boggs, Addisyn's cousin, stumbled out of the corridor. He held a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand, his face flushed with alcohol. He pointed a thick finger right at Eleonora's face. "You stupid trespasser! Do you have a death wish coming in here?"