Chapter 51
Nicolas stood at the floor to ceiling window, his cigarette burned down to the filter. Looking down, he could see the glittering lights of New York at night.
He took a deep drag, then dialed another mimber.
The other end picked up immediately, as if always on standby.
“Matt, check her whereabouts.”
Yes, sir.
Matt was efficient. Within ten minutes, he called back: “Miss Rachel hasn’t left the Leroix house since returning. They’ve increased security-even the back door has 24-hour guards.”
Nicolas narrowed his eyes and crushed out the cigarette.
He remembered Rachel’s figure as she left, wearing loose clothes that made her look tiny, promising him she’d be back.
“Should I send someone to bring Miss Rachel back?” Matt asked.
“No.” Nicolas’s voice was cold. “Hold position for now.”
Matt hesitated: “But Miss Rachel…”
“David won’t hurt his own daughter,” Nicolas said icily, “at least not yet.”
“Look into the Leroix family’s recent activities, especially Arthur and Sophie.”
Matt nodded: “Already on it. Arthur hasn’t been up to much lately. Sophie…” he paused, “registered for Maëlys’s studio selection.”
Nicolas’s fingers drummed slowly, his expression unreadable: “As expected.”
“Need me to do anything?” Matt asked.
“Keep monitoring the Leroix house, especially Rachel’s room. Also,” he paused, “check if they’ve purchased any medical supplies recently.”
A flash of surprise crossed Matt’s eyes: “You think Miss Rachel’s been hurt?”
“Just being cautious,” Nicolas walked to the bar, pouring himself a whiskey. “David won’t hurt her, but Arthur and Sophie are wildcards.”
After hanging up, Nicolas stood by the window. He remembered something Rachel had once said: “Sometimes I feel like the Leroix family is a golden cage, and I’m just a bird with clipped wings.”
He raised his glass to the moonlight.
Not a bird. An eagle.
Wait a little longer, Rachel.
Soon, you’ll be able to fly free.
Rachel’s room was on the east side of the second floor, rarely visited by others, giving her plenty of time to work.
Only three days left until submission deadline. She’d spent these days at the Leroix house without leaving her room, perfecting her designs every day.
After her escape attempt, David had posted several guards outside her room to watch her.
Knowing she couldn’t get out, he’d stopped confining her and let her move around freely-as long as she didn’t leave the mansion.
But Rachel didn’t want to go out anyway. She locked herself in her room daily, working on her designs.
06-42
Un conte
“Knock knock-
The sound made Rachel’s hand slip, her pencil leaving a long mark across the paper.
She didn’t look up, continuing to refine details on her design.
“Rachel, it’s Mom.” Joanne’s voice came from outside. “I made you some chicken soup. Open the door.”
Rachel kept drawing, not lifting her head: “I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t left your room in three days, sweetheart.” Joanne’s voice carried mild reproach. “How can your body handle this?”
Rachel put down her pencil, stretching her stiff neck: “Mom, I’m really busy.”
“Being busy doesn’t mean you should damage your health.” Joanne kept trying to persuade her.
“Just leave it outside.”
“You stubborn child…” Joanne sighed. “Mom knows you’re upset, but you need to understand…”
“Understand what?” Rachel suddenly stood up, walking to the door, her voice cold. “Understand why you always favor Sophie? Or understand why you’re giving her my designs?”
“Rachel Joanne’s voice carried panic. “How can you say that? Everything we do is for your own good…”
“For my own good?” Rachel laughed bitterly. “Then why have you never asked what I want? It’s always Sophie first.”
Joanne’s voice suddenly rose: “You’re the Leroix heiress-what don’t you have? Sophie isn’t blood family, so we need to treat her better to make up for that!”
She spoke with emotion. Hearing silence inside, she tried again tentatively: “Rachel, I heard you also want to enter this competition. Since your sister already registered, maybe you…”
She didn’t finish, but Rachel knew what she meant.
Rachel looked down at her design, her voice carrying unknown emotion: “That’s exactly why I have to compete.”
Silence outside for a few seconds, then Joanne’s voice returned, this time pleading: “Rachel, can’t you think about the family? Sophie needs this opportunity, she…”
“What about me?” Rachel’s voice trembled. “Am I supposed to hide in the shadows forever?”
“You…” Joanne seemed choked up. “How can you think that? You’re the older sister, you should…”
“Should give way to my little sister, right?” Rachel smiled bitterly. “Haven’t I given up enough my whole life?”
A sigh came from outside: “Rachel, open the door. Let’s talk properly.”
Rachel looked at her shadow under the door crack, suddenly remembering childhood-whenever she and Sophie fought, Joanne would stand outside like this, trying to persuade her.
Back then she’d still open the door, still cry in her mother’s arms. But now…
“Mom, I’m tired.” She said softly. “Please go back.”
Another silence outside, then footsteps gradually fading away.
Rachel sat back down and picked up her pencil again.
But just as the tip touched paper, her door was violently pushed open.
She looked up to see Arthur standing furiously in the doorway, his business suit unable to hide the malice in his eyes.
“Rachel!” He strode in, snatching the pencil from her hand. “Is this how you treat Mom?”
Rachel blinked, confused: “What’s gotten into you now?”
“Playing dumb?” Arthur sneered. “Mom’s eyes were red from crying when she left here, and you’re still acting innocent?”
Red eyes?
Rachel was stunned. She hadn’t said anything harsh, had she? How was Joanne crying again?
Her crying skills were just like Sophie’s
Tears on command.
Sometimes Rachel felt like Joanne and Sophie were more like actual mother and daughter.
She didn’t want to deal with Arthur’s nonsense. Standing up, she reached for the pencil he’d taken: “If you want to throw a tantrum, do it somewhere
else.”
“Shut up!” Arthur cut her off. “Right now, immediately, go apologize to Mom!”
Rachel felt a tight pain in her chest: “All I did was not drink soup. Is that such a big deal?”
Arthur grabbed her wrist: “Why are you always so thoughtless? Mom making you soup shows she cares! Do you think you’re so important now that you can ignore your family?”
