Chapter 2 - Shifting the Power
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I didn't blink as Jackson took another aggressive step toward me. The old Blair would have crumbled. She would have wept, apologized profusely, and begged for their forgiveness, terrified of losing the only "friends" she had left.
But I was not the old Blair. I had read her tragic story in a cheap web novel. I knew exactly how this scene played out in the original plot: she apologized, they treated her like garbage, and it marked the beginning of her descent into madness, culminating in her dying alone in a basement while they stole her fortune.
“Did you hear me?” Jackson snapped, his voice booming through the foyer. “Get on your knees and apologize to Phoebe. Now.”
Phoebe peeked out from behind Carter’s broad shoulder. Through her crocodile tears, for just a fraction of a second, her lips curled upward. A tiny, triumphant, sickening smile.
That smile told me everything I needed to know.
I didn't speak. I didn't yell. I simply raised my hand and slapped Jackson squarely across the jaw.
The sharp crack made Phoebe flinch violently. Before Carter could even process what had just happened, I pivoted and struck him across the face, putting my entire shoulder into the swing.
Gasps erupted from the shadows near the grand staircase, where the rest of the household staff had gathered to watch the drama unfold. Phoebe froze, her fake tears drying instantly. Carter touched his stinging cheek, staring at me as if the sun had just risen in the west.
“You… you hit us?” Carter whispered, utterly bewildered.
“No,” I replied, my voice dropping to a glacial, aristocratic deadpan. “I corrected employees who momentarily forgot their place in my house.”
Jackson’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched near his ear. “You spoiled, crazy little—”
“Arthur,” I called out, my tone slicing through the tension.
From the darkened hallway, the silver-haired butler stepped forward, immaculate in his tailored suit. “Yes, Miss Whitmore?”
“Remind me, Arthur. What is standard protocol for staff members who threaten the head of this household?”
Arthur’s eyes sharpened. A faint, almost imperceptible gleam of joy danced in his gaze. “We remove their authority immediately, Miss Whitmore.”
“Excellent. Carter and Jackson are suspended indefinitely without pay. Confiscate their estate phones, their keycards, the keys to the armored vehicles, and their weapons. They are not to set foot on any Whitmore property again unless escorted by my legal counsel.”
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Carter’s anger instantly dissolved into panic. “Blair, wait, you can’t do that.”
I smiled, cold and sharp. “I just did.”
