Jane's POV

Word traveled fast in New York high society. What happened on Christmas Eve at the Stark mansion had already become the juiciest gossip of the season. My son-my Brandon-had publicly humiliated Elle.

My phone buzzed for the third time in an hour. Jeffrey again. I sighed,knowing I couldn't avoid him forever. Reluctantly, I answered.

"Jane, what the hell is going on there?" Jeffrey's voice boomed through the speaker, his Washington drawl more pronounced when he was agitated. "I m hearing that Brandon nearly choked Elle to death at the Christmas party?"

"Jeffrey," I said carefully, "about Elle's situation with Brandon... maybe we should just let it go."

The silence on the other end was deafening.

"What did you just say?" His voice dropped dangerously low. "Have you lost your mind, Jane? Elle and Brandon's marriage was decided years ago.You agreed to it! After what Brandon did to Elle in Washington, he refuses to take responsibility?"

I gripped the phone tighter. "Jeffrey! No one really knows what happened that night in Washington, Brandon and Elle tell completely different stories. Do you honestly think Brandon is the type of man who would take advantage of Elle and then deny it?"

"He's your son," Jeffrey spat. "Of course you'd defend him. But don't forget.Jane,you're a Sinclair now. Have you forgotten how the Starks treated you? The Sinclairs took you in when you were at your lowest. That's a fact!
His words cut deep, reopening old wounds I'd spent decades trying to heal.

"I know!" I snapped, my voice cracking. "You don't need to remind me!Jeffrey, stop throwing that in my face every chance you get!"

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Look, if you want any chance of peace between the Stark and Sinelair families, drop this marriage nonsense.Brandon is my son. I know him. If you keep pushing this, I can't predict what he'll do next!"

The door to my bedroom suddenly burst open. Elle stood in the doorway,her face contorted with rage, mascara streaking down her cheeks. My phone slipped from my fingers,clattering to the floor.

"Aunt Jane," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "What díd you just say?"

"Elle," I stepped toward her, hands raised placatingly. "Sweetheart,listen to me. There are plenty of eligible men out there. I can introduce you to-"

"Enough!" she screamed, her entire body trembling. "It was all lies, wasn't it? All that bullshit about caring for me, about helping me win Brandon.You've been lying to me this whole time!"

"Elle, please," I pleaded, "you heard what Brandon said at the party. He's never going to marry you. If you keep pushing this, he might go after the entire Sinclair family.Elle-"

"Let him!" she screeched, her eyes wild. "The Sinclairs aren't afraid of the Starks! Brandon is mine. He belongs to me and no one else."

She backed toward the door, her face eerily calm despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. "If you won't help me. I'll do it myself."

Before I couldI stop her, Elle turned and fled down the hallway. I ran after her, but she slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it. Through the
heavy oak. I could hear the sickening sound of something-or someone-repeatedly hitting the wall.

"Elle!" I pounded on the door. "Open up. please! Elle. listen to me!"

Panic gripped me as I heard what sounded like convulsions. Frantic, I kept shouting her name. desperately trying to get her to respond.

"What's going on here?"

I whirled around to find Robert standing at the top of the stairs, his expression a mixture of annoyance and concern.

"Robert!" I grasped his arm without thinking. "Please, help me get this door open! Something's wrong with Elle! She's been emotionally unstable since Christmas, after what Brandon did. I'mn afraid she might hurt herself.Please, open the door!"

Robert looked pointedly at my hand clutching his sleeve. I immediately let go,stepping back.

"Stand aside," he ordered.

With one powerful kick, the door flew open. Elle lay on the floor,her body jerking violently, eyes rolled back in her head.

"Her medication!" I gasped. "There are pills on my nightstand. Elle's medication!"

Robert rushed to my room and returned with two unmarked pill bottles.He looked at them suspiciously. "What are these? Does Elle really have mental-"

"Just give them to me!" I snatched the bottles from his hand. "This isn't the time for questions!"

Together, we managed to get the pills into Elle's mouth. Gradually、her
convulsions subsided, her body going limp.

"Can you help me get her onto the bed?" I asked, exhaustion evident in my voice.

Robert lifted Elle's unconscious form with surprising gentleness, placing her on the rumpled sheets. Once she was settled. he gestured for me to follow him into the hallway.

"Brandon's position is clear," he said without preamble. "He will never marry Elle. Even if she didn't have psychological issues, he wouldn't choose her. Brandon is the Stark heir, the future CEO. The future Mrs.Stark will not be Elle Sinclair."

I laughed bitterly. "Then who? Lyanna York? That woman who slept around and had a child with God knows who? Robert, after all these years,you're still as selfish as ever!"

"Me? Selfish?" Robert's eyes narrowed. "Brandon is your son too. Do you even know what he wants? All I know is that Brandon will absolutely never marry Elle Sinclair. If it's not Lyanna, it still won't be Elle. I'vesaid my piece. Do what you will with it."

"You..." I clenched my fists, hatred bubbling up inside me. "Robert,you...if it weren't for your underhanded tactics back then, I never would have-"

"Enough," he cut me off coldly. "I have no interest in rehashing ancient history. All I can say is that I was blind to have ever married you."

He turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing. Brandon isn't me. The tricks you and Jeffrey pulled on me back then won't work on him, If you insist on pushing this, what I stopped short of doing back then... well, I wouldn't mind if Brandon finished the job."

I watched him walk away, his broad shoulders disappearing down the grand staircase.Alone in the dimly lit hallway, I stared out at the bleak
New York winter landscape, memories flooding back-memories of hopes crushed and dreams deferred.

"Robert." I whispered to the empty corridor, "you stopped me from marrying Gavin back then. Do you really think you can stop Ele from marrying Brandon now?"

I clutched the pill bottle in my hand, its contents rattling softly as I walked back into Elle's room. She lay peacefully now, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. I sat beside her, gently stroking her pale face.

"Elle," I promised softly, "I will help you. I won't let them stop you from doing what I couldn't do back then."
n ###Chapter 266: The Most Painful Conversatio

Summer's POV

I arrived early at the high-end tea house in Manhattan, my heart hammering against my ribs with such force I was sure the staff could hear it. The private room was exactly as requested-secluded, elegant, with soft lighting that wouldn't aggravate Grandpa's sensitive eyes. I'd personally selected his favorite tea, ensuring everything was perfect.

Perfect for what might be the most painful conversation of my life.

My fingers trembled slightly as I arranged the teacups. Even after Brandon had comforted me on Christmas Eve, the revelation that I wasn't truly Elizabeth and Richard's daughter had left me reeling. For days, I'd been in a fog of confusion and hurt, wrestling with questions that consumed my every waking moment.

Who was I, really? Where did I come from? And why had everyone kept this from me?

The gentle knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. I smoothed my dress, took a deep breath, and tried to put on a brave face.

"Come in," I called, my voice surprisingly steady.

The door opened to reveal Parker, helping Grandpa George into the room.My throat instantly tightened at the sight of him-his familiar stance, the silver-topped cane, the kind eyes that had always looked at me with such warmth.

"Grandpa!" I couldn't stop myself from rushing forward,eyes already welling with tears.

"My dear!" His face lit up, arms opening to receive my embrace."It's only been a few days, and you're already missing me this much?"
I hugged him tightly, breathing in his comforting scent of expensive cologne and peppermint. "Of course! Haven't you missed me too?"

Grandpa pulled back slightly, studying my face with concern. "What's this?You look like you're about to cry." His weathered hand gently cupped my cheek. "Is seeing your old grandpa making you that happy?"

"Yeah." I managed, forcing a smile even as my throat burned with unshed tears. "Just really happy."

I helped him to the plush chair I'd arranged closest to the heating vent,knowing how the winter chill aggravated his joints. Parker quietly excused himself, leaving us alone.

Grandpa settled in with a contented sigh, then fixed me with a knowing look. "So, you asked me to meet you here. Must be something important on your mind?"

My carefully rehearsed speech suddenly evaporated. I poured tea with hands that wouldn't quite stay steady, buying myself precious seconds to regain my composure.

"Grandpa," I began, setting down the teapot, "there is something I wanted to ask you about."

"Go ahead," he encouraged, lifting his teacup. "Perhaps I can help clarify whatever's troubling you."

I took a deep breath, then looked directly into his eyes. "Grandpa, I'm not really a Taylor by blood, am I?"

The reaction was immediate. Grandpa's hand jerked,hot tea sloshing over the rim of his cup onto the tablecloth. His face paled dramatically.

"I'm fine!" he insisted, waving away my concern as I jumped up to help."Just clumsy old hands."
I slowly sat back down, my suspicion confirmed by his reaction. "You don't need to hide it anymore. I know the truth."

"Know what?" His voice had a forced casualness that broke my heart."What could you possibly know that I don't? And how would you know it?"

"I overheard Dad and Mom talking in the study on Christmas Eve," I admitted quietly. "I heard everything."

Grandpa's expression cycled through shock, dismay, and finally settled on something like resignation. Still, he tried one last defense. "Silly girl,what makes you so certain you're not a Taylor? If you weren't my granddaughter, why would I care for you so deeply?"

The question hung in the air between us. Tears pricked behind mny eyes,but I blinked them back. I needed to stay focused.

"I'm a grown woman now," I said softly. "If I'd never found out, maybe I could have lived my whole life in ignorance. But now that I know,I can't just pretend nothing's changed."

I stared down at my hands, the weight of years finally breaking free."Ever since I was little, I've felt it-how different they treated me compared to Victoria. I kept wondering what I was doing wrong, why I wasn't good enough. So I studied harder, tried to please them more, did everything I could think of.., but nothing ever satisfied them."

My voice wavered but didn't break. "Grandpa, I know you love me. I know you've always treated me like your real granddaughter.But now I understand that I'm not actually a Taylor by blood. I came here today because I need to know-who are my real parents?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Grandpa's lack of denial was confirmation enough.

"Did they... did they not want me?" I asked, the question that had
haunted me since Christmas Eve finally escaping my lips.

"Don't jump to conclusions," Grandpa said firmly, reaching across to take my hand. "They didn't abandon you. They..." He sighed heavily. "They're no longer in this world,Summer. Why obsess over these details? All you need to know is that you're a member of the Taylor family.You're George Taylor's granddaughter. Everything I have is yours. Isn't that enough?”

Before I could respond, the door opened suddenly. Brandon stood in the doorway, his expression serious, bringing with him the chill of the winter air outside. My heart lurched at the sight of him-I hadn't expected him here.

"Brandon!" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

"June!" He stepped into the room, then nodded respectfully to Grandpa."Mr.Taylor."

Grandpa visibly relaxed, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Ah,Brandon! You two planned this meeting together?"

Brandon didn't answer directly. Instead, he sat beside me, draping his winter coat over my shoulders. The weight of it was comforting, the lingering warmth of his body heat enveloping me.

Brandon leaned close to my ear, his voice low enough that only I could hear him. "You'll explain everything to me when we get home."

His tone sent a shiver down my spine-not fear, exactly,but a clear indication he wasn't pleased I'd come alone.

"Darling," Brandon said suddenly, his hand resting on my knee, "could you get us another pot of green tea?"

I recognized the dismissal for what it was-a transparent attempt to speak with Grandpa alone. Though reluctant, I nodded and left the room,closing
the door behind me.

I paused in the hallway. my heart pounding. Part of me wanted to press my eat against the door, to eavesdrop on their conversation. But that was what had started this whole mess in the first place. wasn't ir?