Chapter 6 - Cracks in the Golden MistressAt noon, Thomas marched up the limestone steps of Whitmore House, banging his fists violently against the heavy oak front doors.

“Eleanor! Open this door!” Thomas screamed through the wood, his voice hoarse and desperate. “You can’t keep me out of my own office!”

I stepped out onto the second-floor balcony, looking down at him in the driveway. He was wearing the same rumpled suit from the night before, his hair unkempt, his eyes bloodshot with rage and panic.

“Your office belongs to the Controlling Steward now, Thomas,” I called down, my voice cool and unshakeable in the afternoon air.

“Amber left me this morning, Eleanor!” Thomas yelled, tears of humiliation welling in his eyes. “She took the car and cleared out her apartment! She was using me the whole time!”

“I know,” I replied softly. “Everyone in that dining room knew except you.”

Thomas fell onto his knees on the gravel driveway, burying his face in his hands, weeping like a broken child.

“Eleanor... please...” Thomas begged, looking up at me with desperate, bloodshot eyes. “I made a mistake! I’ll fire Amber! I’ll go to counseling! Just let me back into the house! Tell the accountants to stop the audit!”

I looked down at the man I had loved for eighteen years—the man who had watched his mother insult me over red wine while pouring champagne for his mistress.

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“The audit continues, Thomas,” I said quietly. “And my divorce papers will be served to your lawyer by five PM.”

I turned, walked inside, and closed the balcony doors, shutting out his cries forever.