I took a deep breath, told myself to toughen up. I had work to do. A brother having surgery soon, waiting to see me.
I pulled myself together and headed downstairs toward the main hall. Passing the corner linen closet, I noticed the door ajar, hushed voices drifting out.
"God, that Miss Sterling is so tragic." I saw young maid Susie sigh. "Did you see the scars on her?"
"Kirill waited for her a long time," veteran maid Martha's voice carried regret. "Never expected she'd come back like this."
"So... what about Mrs. Orlov?" Susie asked hesitantly. "Now that Miss Sterling's back, what is she?"
"Hard to say," Martha cut in. "After all, Madam Olga forced her on him. He only feels responsible for her. Now that Genevie's back with the baby, how much longer can that stand-in last?"
I blinked hard, holding back tears. Martha was right. I'd always been Kirill's second choice.
He needed a wife to placate Olga, and I was convenient, compliant, and purchasable with money. Now his muse had returned, broken and pitiful, even carrying his child.
I pulled my lips into a bitter smile. Wanted to laugh, but my eyes burned. My heart felt like someone had taken coarse sandpaper to it, scraping out wave after wave of dull pain.
I didn't want to cry. Didn't deserve to. I'd signed this agreement myself, sold myself into this arrangement. This ending was just another form of contractual obligation.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the churning bitterness in my chest, and turned to leave. I didn't want to face them, didn't want them to see me like this.
"What the hell are you gossiping about!"
A roar suddenly exploded from the end of the hallway, making the air vibrate.
I jumped, instinctively turning around. Olga stood there, leaning on her cane, radiating terrifying authority.
The hallway went dead silent, followed by panicked footsteps and clinking porcelain. Two maids ran out, faces white as sheets, nearly collapsing to their knees when they saw Olga.
"M-Madam..."
"The Orlovs pay you to work, not spread rumors about your employers!" Olga's voice wasn't loud, but every word carried ice. "Who gave you the nerve to gossip about Mrs. Orlov behind her back?"
"We're so sorry! Madam!"
Olga let out a cold laugh, her cane striking the floor hard.
"Starting today, neither of you work in the main house. Get to the laundry room. If I hear one more dirty word about Harper, you're out of the manor for good. And you won't find decent work anywhere in this city!"
The two maids bowed frantically before scrambling away.
The hallway fell silent again.
I stood in the shadows, tears finally breaking free. All my life, except for Aiden, no one had ever stood up for me like this.
Olga turned, her gaze landing precisely on me.
"What are you hiding there for? Playing mushroom?" Her tone was still harsh, but softer than before.
I sniffled. "They were telling the truth, though."
"What nonsense are you spouting?" Olga glared at me in frustration, stepping forward to grab my wrist. "Harper, listen to me. You are Kirill's wife. That's a simple fact no one can change."
Her palm felt dry and warm, giving me strength I'd never known.
"The day after tomorrow is your birthday." Olga suddenly changed tack, her tone brooking no argument. "I'm throwing you a party. The biggest one. I want all of New York, every player in the underworld, to see exactly who the Orlovs truly cherish."
I looked up, shocked, instinctively wanting to refuse. "Olga, that's too—"
