Chapter 56 Not Accepted
Veyra sat at the table, eating her bread, trying to make herself small. The Old Madam’s eyes kept drifting toward her, cold and assessing. Beatrice’s face was tight. Harold’s jaw was clenched. No one spoke to her. No one acknowledged her existence except Lily.
Lily had finished her bread and butter. She had pushed her plate away. Now she was staring at Veyra with bright, eager eyes.
"Veyra," Lily said. Her voice was loud in the silence. "Can we watch cartoons this afternoon? The ones with the talking animals? And can we make more cookies? The heart-shaped ones?"
Veyra smiled. She could not help it. Lily’s enthusiasm was infectious.
"I’d love that," Veyra said.
Lily clapped her hands. "Yay! I’ll pick the cartoons. You bring the sprinkles."
"I’ll bring the sprinkles."
Lily was about to say more, but the Old Madam’s voice cut across the table.
"Lily. Come here."
Lily’s smile faltered. She looked at her great-grandmother. Then she looked at Veyra.
"Go," Veyra said softly. "I’ll see you later."
Lily slid off her chair. She walked around the table to the Old Madam’s wheelchair. The Old Madam put her arm around the little girl and pulled her close. Her eyes never left Veyra’s face.
She did not want Lily near her.
That was clear.
Veyra’s chest tightened. She understood. The Old Madam had made her position clear. Veyra was tolerated. Not accepted. Not welcomed just tolerated.
She would not force herself on the family. She would not push.
She set down her bread. She stood up.
"Thank you for the meal," she said. Her voice was quiet and polite.
No one responded.
She turned and walked back toward her room.
The hallway was empty.
Veyra’s footsteps echoed on the marble floor. The walls were lined with paintings of ancestors she had never met. Their eyes seemed to follow her as she walked.
She reached her door. She went inside. She closed it behind her.
She leaned against the wood and let out a long breath.
The family would not accept her. Maybe they never would. But Lily did. Lily wanted to watch cartoons with her. Lily wanted to make cookies with her.
That was something.
She pushed off from the door and walked to the window. The garden was green and still. The sun was high. A gardener was trimming a hedge in the distance.
She thought about the promise she had made. Cartoons. Cookies. Sprinkles.
She would keep it. Even if the Old Madam disapproved. Even if Beatrice glared. Even if Harold muttered under his breath.
Lily deserved happiness. And Veyra would give her as much of it as she could.
She turned away from the window.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out her phone.
Her fingers scrolled through her call history. Yesterday. The unknown number. The woman from the coffee kiosk.
She pressed call.
It rang twice. Then a familiar voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi," Veyra said. "This is the woman who put up the missing person flyers. You called me yesterday about the little girl."
"Oh! Yes, I remember. Is she okay? Did you find her?"
"She’s safe. She’s home. I wanted to thank you. And I wanted to thank the older woman who gave you the information. The one who saw them at Greenery Villas."
"The older woman? Aunt Chen?"
"Yes. Do you have her contact information?"
There was a pause. "I don’t have her number. I’m sorry. She comes into the shop sometimes, but I never asked for her phone."
Veyra’s heart sank. "Do you know where she lives? Where she works? Anything?"
Another pause. Then: "She owns a pizza shop. On Elm Street. It’s called Chen’s Pizza. Small place. Red awning."
Veyra grabbed a pen from the nightstand. She wrote it down. Chen’s Pizza. Elm Street.
"Thank you," Veyra said. "Thank you so much."
"You’re welcome. I’m glad the little girl is safe."
They hung up.
Veyra looked at the address. She wanted to go there. Today. Now. She wanted to thank Aunt Chen in person. To look her in the eye and tell her that she had helped save a child’s life.
She opened her nightstand drawer.
Inside was a small stack of cash. Her emergency fund. Money she had saved from before. Money Caspian did not know about.
She counted out one thousand yuan.
It was not enough. Not nearly enough to repay what Aunt Chen had done. But it was something. A gesture and a big thank you.
She tucked the bills into her bag. She zipped the compartment closed.
Then a knock came at the door.
"Mrs. Thorne?" The maid’s voice. "Your lunch is here."
Veyra blinked. She had already eaten. Bread and butter at the family table. But that had been hours ago. Or maybe not. Time in the cellar had distorted her sense of the day.
"Come in," she said.
The maid entered with a tray. Soup. Rice. Vegetables. A small portion of fish.
"Mr. Thorne’s instructions," the maid said. "You are to eat three full meals a day. For the baby."
Veyra sighed. She was not hungry. But she sat down and ate anyway.
The soup was good. The rice was warm. The fish was flaky and mild.
By the time she finished, her stomach was full. Her eyelids were heavy.
But she had things to do.
She pulled out her phone. She typed a message to Li Wei.
I need to go out this afternoon. To thank the woman who helped find Lily. Can you drive me?
The response came quickly.
I need to clear it with Mr. Thorne first. Where are you going?
Chen’s Pizza. On Elm Street. I’ll only be an hour.
Wait for my confirmation.
Veyra set the phone down. She paced the room. She looked out the window. She checked her phone.
Nothing.
*
Li Wei’s message came five minutes later.
Mr. Thorne has been informed. He will call you shortly.
Veyra frowned. A call? Why not just say yes or no?
She sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
*
*
Across the city, in the high-rise office tower of Zeus Group, Dorian was not having a good morning.
He had been reviewing acquisition documents. Spreadsheets. Legal contracts. The sort of tedious paperwork that made up ninety percent of running a billion-dollar company.
His office was glass and steel. The view was stunning. The coffee was fresh.
But the peace was about to shatter.
The door burst open.
Naya Whitmore strode in.
She was tall. Long legs. Dark hair that fell in waves over her shoulders. A red dress that hugged every curve. Her heels were high. Her lipstick was brighter.
She was the daughter of Councilman Whitmore. Presidential candidate Whitmore. The man who had wanted to marry his daughter into the Thorne family.
"Dorian," she said. Her voice was sweet. Sharp. "You’ve been avoiding me."
Dorian did not look up from his papers. "I’ve been busy."
"Busy avoiding me."
"I don’t avoid people. I prioritize."
Naya walked around his desk. She perched on the edge of it. Her dress rode up her thigh. She did not adjust it.
"You got married," she said. "To someone else. Without telling me."
"My marriage is none of your business."
"It is my business when my father was planning to propose an alliance between our families." Her eyes narrowed. "Who is she? What does she have that I don’t?"
Dorian set down his pen. He looked at her. His gray eyes were cold.
"She has my child."
Naya’s face flickered. Surprise. Jealousy. Something else.
"You’re having a baby?"
"That’s none of your business either."
She slid off the desk. She walked toward the window. Her reflection stared back at her from the glass.
"I’m not giving up," she said. "You know that, don’t you? I’ve wanted you for years. I’m not going to let some random woman take what’s mine."
Dorian’s jaw tightened. "I am not yours. I have never been yours. I will never be yours."
Naya turned. Her smile was sharp.
"We’ll see."
She walked toward the door. Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She paused with her hand on the handle.
"You should answer your phone," she said. "Your bodyguard has been trying to reach you."
She left.
The door closed.
Dorian picked up his phone. Three missed messages from Li Wei. He scrolled through them.
Mrs. Thorne wants to go out. To thank a woman who helped find Lily.
Chen’s Pizza on Elm Street.
She says she’ll only be an hour. Do I have your permission?
Dorian did not respond to the messages. He pressed a button. The phone dialed.
Li Wei answered immediately. "Sir."
"Put Veyra on the phone."