Chapter 6 - The Unlikely Advice
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Madison’s head snapped up at the sound of the rustling paper. When she saw Nora kneeling on the carpet, gathering her rejected business proposals, the vulnerability vanished instantly, replaced by a fierce, defensive rage.
“What are you doing?!” Madison hissed, scrambling to her feet, hastily wiping her face. “Get out! You aren't supposed to be in here!”
Nora didn't flinch. She neatly stacked the papers, tapping them against the floor to align the edges, and stood up.
“I heard you crying,” Nora said calmly, holding the stack out toward Madison.
“I wasn't crying,” Madison lied viciously, her cheeks burning red. “I just have a headache. Leave my things alone and get out of my sight before I call security and have you thrown onto the street.”
Nora didn't move. She looked at the top page of the proposal. It was a highly detailed marketing strategy for a sustainable fashion line.
“You put a lot of work into this,” Nora observed quietly. “The demographic analysis is very thorough.”
Madison blinked, caught entirely off guard. “You read it?”
“Just the executive summary,” Nora admitted. “Why did your father reject it?”
“Because he thinks I’m a joke!” Madison snapped, the anger finally cracking to reveal the deep, festering hurt beneath. “He thinks I just want to play business. He looked at it for two minutes, told me the profit margins were unrealistic for a startup, and told me to focus on my charity boards instead.”
Madison snatched the papers from Nora’s hands, clutching them to her chest like a shield.
“He doesn't respect me,” Madison whispered, the fight completely draining out of her.
“Why should he?” Nora asked.
The question hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Madison stared at her, utterly shocked by the audacity of the maid.
“Excuse me?” Madison demanded.
“You want your father to respect you as a business partner,” Nora explained, her voice remarkably gentle but entirely uncompromising. “But you act like a tyrant in his house. You throw tantrums when your clothes aren't washed correctly. You belittle the people who make your food. You demand respect instead of earning it.”
“I am a Caldwell!”
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“That just means you were born lucky,” Nora countered smoothly. “If you want him to look at you as an equal, stop acting like a spoiled child. Show him you can handle pressure without breaking things.”
Nora turned and walked toward the door, leaving Madison standing alone in the media room, clutching her rejected dreams in the dark.
