Chapter 133

Eleanor's POV

I glanced over my shoulder for the third time, making sure the others were still absorbed in their evening chess games. Grandfather's methodical style meant those matches could stretch for hours - perfect for what I needed to do.

"Lucas," I hissed, pulling my brother toward the darker corner of the yard. The perfectly manicured hedges provided some cover, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. "What's going on with Rachel Thorne?"

His face remained impassive, but I caught the slight tightening of his jaw. Under the dim light, the shadows seemed to deepen the lines of tension around his eyes.

"And what about Serena?" I pressed on, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay quiet. "Do you have any idea what she's going through? She's been trying to reach you for days! No calls, no messages - you just vanished. What's she supposed to think?"

"My phone was confiscated," Lucas said flatly, his gaze sliding toward the room.

"What?" The word came out as a strangled whisper. "Grandfather did this?"

"I'm being monitored," he continued, his voice carrying that careful control I recognized from our childhood - the tone he used when things were seriously wrong. "Until Rachel leaves Manhattan."

"Damn it!" I dug into my purse, fingers closing around my phone. "Here, use mine. Just let her know-"

"Mr. Harrington." A deep voice cut through the darkness, making me jump. Two suited figures materialized from behind the hedges, their presence turning the garden's shadows suddenly menacing. "Mr. Howard's orders are clear. No unauthorized communication."

"Christ!" I spat, my hand clenching around my phone. "This is ridiculous! You can't just-"

"Eleanor." Lucas's quiet voice stopped my outburst. His expression hadn't changed, but there was something in his eyes - a determination I hadn't seen before. "Tell her to wait for me."

The security guards moved closer, their message clear. I watched helplessly as they escorted Lucas back toward the house, his tall figure disappearing into the house.

The clock in the hallway struck half past ten, its deep chimes echoing through the corridor of the Harrington mansion. Mother's insistence on me staying overnight at the mansion felt like another one of her calculated moves, though I couldn't quite figure out the angle yet.

The evening had dragged on endlessly until grandfather and Clarence finally retired to their rooms. Only then did the suffocating atmosphere begin to dissipate, allowing the rest of us to disperse. As I made my way down the hallway toward my room, an unexpected sight caught my attention.

Through the partially open door of Jace's room, I glimpsed Evelyn Whitmore - a far cry from her usual dramatic self. She was perched on the edge of a chair, her usual confidence notably absent. I couldn't help but smirk at the sight. The social butterfly of Manhattan, reduced to skulking around in the shadows. How fitting.

"Eleanor?" Jace's voice came from behind me, and I turned slowly, maintaining my composure. "Aren't you going to Serena's tonight?"

I met his gaze with a cool smile. "Don't worry. I'll make sure my windows are sealed tight. Whatever noise you and Evelyn make next door, I won't hear a thing."

His expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "That's not what I meant."

"Isn't it?" I kept my voice deliberately light, though the underlying edge was unmistakable.

"Garrett Thorne is a good man," he said suddenly, catching me off guard with the abrupt change of subject.

I felt something cold settle in my chest. "I know he is. But my personal life is exactly that - personal. You don't need to concern yourself with it, Uncle Jace." The formal title felt like ice on my tongue. "Rest assured, I harbor no expectations regarding you. I won't interfere with your romance. As for my issues with Evelyn, that's between her and me. Whether she's your girlfriend or not doesn't change my opinion of her. Of course, I'll maintain appearances in front of the Harringtons. I won't disrupt your marriage plans."

"Eleanor, that's not-"

"I don't care what you mean," I cut him off, reaching for my door handle. "I'm telling you this only so you'll stop trying to insert yourself into my life. Goodnight, Uncle Jace."

The heavy door closed behind me with a decisive click, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway. In the darkness of my room, I allowed myself a moment of weakness, pressing my forehead against the cool wood. Then I straightened up, squared my shoulders, and moved away from the door.

Evelyn's POV

I spot Eleanor Yates standing by the doorway.

Jace had been called away by Howard Harrington, asking me to wait in the room until he could take me home. I don't even know why I came here tonight. Not a single person in the Harrington household has given me more than a passing glance.

Seeing Eleanor now is excruciating. Every condescending remark, every snide comment I've ever made about her flashes through my mind. The arrogance in my words makes me want to sink through the floor. God, what will people say when they find out about her true identity? I can already imagine the headlines, the social media storm, all aimed at me.

Eleanor notices my discomfort - of course she does. The slight curl of her lip tells me everything I need to know about what she thinks of me.

She walks past me with the kind of confidence I used to possess, her head held high, practically radiating disdain. The irony isn't lost on me - this is exactly how I used to treat her.

My salvation arrived in the form of quick footsteps approaching the waiting room. I immediately softened my expression, tilting my head just so as Jace Gillard appeared in the doorway.

"Evelyn," he said, his voice professionally neutral. "Father would like to see you in his study."

My heart skipped. Howard Harrington wanted to see *me*? I fought to keep my voice steady. "Mr. Harrington... wants to see me?"

"Yes. If you'll follow me."

I rose gracefully, making sure to let a hint of vulnerability show in my movements. "Jace," I said softly as we entered the hallway, my voice honey-sweet, "is your father... is he in a good mood?"

"He deals with facts, not moods." Jace's clipped response sent a chill down my spine.

*What happened to the man who used to hang on my every word?*

The hallway stretched endlessly before us. I tried to slow my pace, to prolong these moments with Jace, but he maintained a perfectly professional distance.

As we approached the study's imposing double doors, panic began to rise in my throat. "You're coming in with me, aren't you?" I reached for his arm, but he smoothly stepped aside.

"He asked to see you alone." Jace's face might as well have been carved from marble.

"Jace..." I let a pleading note enter my voice, one that used to work so well.

"Just be direct with him. He appreciates honesty." The irony in his tone was subtle but unmistakable.

I watched him retreat down the hallway, leaving me alone before the massive doors. Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand to knock. The sound seemed to echo through the entire mansion, sealing my fate with each reverberation.