Chapter 7 - THE GATECRASHERS AT THE GATES OF VALE MANOR
Down at the main security entrance of Vale Manor, the massive wrought-iron gates stood firmly closed, towering like the walls of a medieval fortress. Outside, parked illegally on the shoulder of the private road, was Jenna’s polished SUV.
Jenna stood directly in front of the intercom speaker, her face flushed red from anger and the summer heat, while my mother hovered nervously behind her. Jenna hammered her fist against the metal pillar housing the camera and speaker system.
"Open these gates right now!" Jenna shrieked into the intercom, her voice dripping with venom. "I know you're in there! You are harboring my sister and my niece under false pretenses! This is kidnapping! I demand to speak to Helena Vale right this instant!"
For a long moment, there was only static from the speaker. Jenna crossed her arms, glaring up at the security camera with a triumphant smirk, convinced her aggressive tactic was working.
Then, the speaker clicked, and a voice echoed across the quiet estate entrance—not Margot’s, and not mine. It was Helena Vale’s unmistakable, gravelly voice, amplified and dripping with chilling authority.
"Mrs. Miller," Helena’s voice rang out, cool and sharp as a razor blade. "If you strike my security pillar one more time, I will have your vehicle towed to the city dump, press criminal charges for trespassing, and initiate a multi-million-dollar civil lawsuit for harassment before the sun sets."
Jenna recoiled as if she had been physically slapped. The smug smirk vanished from her face instantly, replaced by a mask of sheer panic.
"I—I am family!" Jenna stammered, her voice cracking as she leaned closer to the microphone. "You can't just lock them away! Sarah has been brainwashed! She’s a poor single mother who doesn't know what she's doing! We have rights!"
"You surrendered any claim to decency, let alone family, the moment you forced a fourteen-year-old child to act as a domestic servant at her own birthday party," Helena replied, her tone rising in intensity. "I watched the footage, Mrs. Miller. Every single cruel word, every mocking sneer, every arrogant dismissive gesture. You built your entire life on making others feel small because you are fundamentally hollow inside."
My mother stepped up to the microphone, her voice trembling with a pathetic mix of fear and indignation. "Helena, please! We just want to talk! We're her family! Sarah owes us respect!"
"Sarah owes you nothing," Helena cut her off sharply. "And neither does Lara. You treated them like dirt because you thought they had no power. Well, you guessed wrong. They are Vales now. And you are standing outside the gates of people you can never, ever touch again."
"Open this gate!" Jenna shrieked, losing all remaining composure, pounding her fists against the iron bars. "You can't hide behind your money! I will call the police! I will call the press! Everyone will know what kind of monster—!"
"Try it, Mrs. Miller," Helena’s voice interrupted calmly. "My legal team is already broadcasting your little suburban party’s security feed to three major media outlets who have been investigating local workplace exploitation. Let's see how much your country club friends like your face splashed across the morning news."
The color drained entirely from Jenna’s face. She stopped pounding. She stared at the security camera, her chest heaving, the horrifying realization setting in that her entire social standing, her carefully crafted image, and her precious reputation were hanging by a thread.
"Get in the car, Mom," Jenna whispered, her voice hollow and defeated.
"What?" my mother asked, blinking in shock. "We can't just leave—!"
May you like
"Get in the car!" Jenna screamed, turning and running back toward her SUV as if the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.
Within seconds, the tires squealed against the asphalt as the luxury vehicle whipped around in a clumsy U-turn and sped away down the dark country road, disappearing into the night.
