After dinner, Lady Matilda motioned for everyone to remain seated. The clinking of cutlery ceased, and murmured conversations died down.
"Before we disperse," she began with commanding calmness, "I believe it is time Jessica is properly introduced to the family. She should understand the Santiago family tree."
What followed was a deliberate rundown of names and relations. Uncles, aunts, cousins—everyone took their turn, and Lady Matilda clarified the bloodlines as though each connection carried weight.
Jessica listened attentively. Her mind filtered through the names and titles, but it was one revelation that struck her most.
Lady Matilda had only two children—her mother, Nora, and a younger son, Donald. Jessica’s heart skipped. Her mother had been the eldest. The firstborn.
The secret tension in the air. The barely concealed hostility. It all made sense now.
Her presence had disrupted more than routines—it had threatened the silent ambitions that had festered in this house for years. Her arrival had shaken old plots from their slumber and forced hidden motives into motion.
She cast a quick glance around the table. Her eyes lingered on each face. Some wore false warmth, their smiles too tight, their eyes too shifty. Others barely concealed their disdain. A few—just a handful—looked sincere, though even their sincerity felt cautious.
Donald, her uncle, looked strangely alone despite being surrounded by his own blood. A sheep among wolves, she thought. No wonder Lady Matilda had retained control even at her age—there was no one else strong enough to hold the house together.
Subtly, Jessica reached for her phone under the table and typed out a message to Ethan.
"I need a clear report on the following people. Immediately."
She listed the names she sensed were more than they seemed. There was no room for naïveté. Not here.
As she hit ’send’, Lady Matilda’s voice rose again, steady and resolute.
"I’ve been growing tired lately," she said, her tone unflinching, "and Donald alone cannot handle the affairs of the Santiagos. So after much thought, I’ve come to a conclusion—Jessica, being a Santiago, will step up as Vice President to support her uncle."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Jessica’s hand trembled slightly, and her phone nearly slipped from her grasp. She turned to Lady Matilda in disbelief, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
She had feared this. Feared the weight those exact words would bring.
Her eyes drifted to Cassandra, who met her gaze with a look of pure venom. Their stare locked like swords clashing mid-air. Cassandra’s chest heaved with restrained fury.
Jessica turned back to Lady Matilda and forced her voice calm. "I don’t think I can handle this right now. Maybe we should take things step by step."
But Lady Matilda merely shook her head. "You don’t have to worry. The decision is made."
"Grandma, don’t you think you’re being unfair?" Cassandra broke in, her voice sharp.
Lady Matilda raised a brow. "Unfair?"
Cassandra nodded defiantly. She refused to keep quiet while Jessica, a stranger to their inner circle, was placed above her. "She’s a Brown. Not a Santiago."
Lady Matilda’s gaze grew colder. "You’re mistaken. Jessica is a Santiago—by blood. And the position she’s taking rightfully belonged to her mother. Nora was my firstborn. Had she been here, she would be the one standing by my side. Jessica is simply reclaiming her place. That is final."
Another wave of silence swept over the table. No one dared challenge her further, but discomfort hung in the air like thick smoke.
Lady Matilda rose slightly. "Soon, there will be an official welcoming banquet. And with it, the formal handover."
A chorus of muffled gasps followed.
Jessica’s eyes widened. A formal announcement? A banquet? When had she agreed to any of that?
She wanted to speak—to protest—but stopped herself. One glance at Lady Matilda and she saw the exhaustion hiding behind the steel. The woman looked so tired, so burdened. This fight—this legacy—had taken its toll.
Lady Matilda stood. "Please excuse me. I’ll take my leave for the night."
She turned, ignoring the stares that burned into her back. As she exited, Jessica and Donald’s eyes followed her.
"I think you should go see her," he said quietly to Jessica, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "She definitely wants to speak with you."
Jessica paused and glanced back at him, her voice low. "Aren’t you upset about what she said?"
Donald chuckled softly. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, flicking her forehead playfully.
"Ouch," she winced, rubbing her forehead. The gesture triggered a memory she hadn’t recalled in years.
Her mother had it as a hobby to flick her forehead and the night before she died was the last time she had been filcked on her forehead.
Jessica had resisted accepting her mother’s necklace, and Nora had flicked her forehead with the same words—"What are you thinking about?"
Her voice echoed now in her mind: "When the time comes, it will guide you."
A strange warmth stirred in Jessica’s chest.
Donald’s voice pulled her back to the present. "Nora was always better at business than me. You stepping up... it lets me finally pursue the dreams I gave up for the family."
His smile was genuine—relieved.
Jessica took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. I’ll go."
She followed the maid through the long corridor until they reached Lady Matilda’s private wing. At the door, she tapped gently.
"Come in," came a tired voice.
Jessica entered the room quietly. Lady Matilda sat near the window, the moonlight catching the silver strands in her hair.
"Are you alright?" Jessica asked gently.
Lady Matilda sighed. "I’m alright, just... weary. I’ve held this family together for decades, Jessica. But lately, the peace is cracking. Inside and out, threats grow. Everyone wants the throne, but few understand its weight. Donald has done his best, but I fear for his health. He can’t bear this alone. You’re the only one I trust."
Jessica’s heart clenched. "But I’m not ready to take on this responsibility," she whispered.
She is already thinking of handing Davis some of her companies to manage and yet another group is springing up.
Taking a deep breath, "I was even planning to hand off some of my own businesses. I’m not prepared for this." She murmured.
Matilda’s eyes met hers, sharp despite her frailty. "My granddaughter, some things aren’t chosen. They are fated. And no matter where you run, fate finds you. So, it is your fate."
Jessica couldn’t believe this to be her response.
She stared into the distance, lost in thought. Was this truly her fate? To inherit a fractured empire, filled with enemies? To lead a family that barely accepted her?
She wondered if she had made the right decision to honour this visit.
But one thing was certain—whether she accepted the mantle or not, the vultures had already seen her.
There was no escaping the game now. And maybe, just maybe, visiting the Santiagos had been a turning point she could never undo.