“Tomorrow morning.”
The words hit him harder than anything Brenda had said.
“I’ve already moved some things to Miriam’s apartment,” Fiona continued. “I’m not taking the jewelry, the car, or anything Damian bought me. I just need distance. I need time to remember who I am.”
Damian gripped the wall.
She was leaving him.
And he had been too busy building hotels to notice that his marriage was collapsing.
Then Brenda entered the kitchen.
“Fiona, the Montgomerys are coming for lunch tomorrow. Please don’t appear in those plain clothes again.”
Helena stood and returned to work.
Fiona remained seated.
“You won’t have to worry about what I’m wearing tomorrow.”
Brenda smirked.
“So you finally understand your place?”
Damian nearly stepped forward.
But he forced himself to stay hidden.
Brenda continued.
“You never belonged in this world. Damian needed a wife who could stand beside him properly, not someone who spends her time feeding employees.”
Fiona stood.
“When I met your brother, Brenda, he didn’t belong in this world either.”
Brenda’s smile vanished.
“He learned how to adapt.”
Fiona looked at her calmly.
“Perhaps too well.”
Brenda stormed out.
Damian remained frozen.
He wasn’t only ashamed of his sister.
He was ashamed of himself.
For years, Fiona had been asking to be seen.
And he had answered her with money.
That night, after the mansion became quiet, Damian found Helena.
She reluctantly handed him a cardboard box.
“Mrs. O’Connor asked me to keep this safe until tomorrow.”
Inside were hundreds of receipts.
Prescriptions.
Groceries.
School fees.
Utility bills.
Books.
Medical expenses.
Some were for Miriam.
Others paid for the education of Roberto’s grandson, the groundskeeper’s family.
Several covered emergency treatment for a housemaid’s child.
Then Damian reached the bottom.
Pawnshop slips.
A bracelet.
Diamond earrings.
A luxury watch.
Jewelry he had personally bought for Fiona.
He looked at Helena.
“She sold these?”
Helena nodded.
But not for herself.
Months earlier, Brenda had persuaded the household financial manager to restrict Fiona’s access to shared accounts.
She had claimed Fiona was spending irresponsibly.
Fiona never complained to Damian.
Instead of begging for access, she pawned her own jewelry and continued helping families who depended on her.
Gertrude knew.
And said nothing.
Damian sat alone in the darkness for hours.
At seven the next morning, he took his place at the head of the formal dining table.
Brenda arrived.
Then Gertrude.
Finally, Fiona appeared carrying a small brown suitcase.
She froze when she saw Damian.
“I thought you’d already be at headquarters.”
He pointed to the chair beside him.
“Sit here, Fiona.”
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