“She isn’t who you think she is,” he said.
My fingers curled slowly at my side.
“You mean Isabella?” Lydia asked.
“Yes.”
“Because she negotiated her own value?”
“Because she wants power,” he replied. “That makes her dangerous.”
I stepped forward.
“Funny,” I said softly. “I always thought it was the people who pretend not to want power who did the most damage.”
They both turned.
Ethan’s face lost color. Lydia’s eyes widened a fraction before smoothing back into composure.
“How long were you standing there?” Ethan asked.
“Long enough.”
Lydia took a step back. “I should go.”
“No,” I said. “Stay.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“You were discussing me,” I continued calmly. “Without me. That feels like a habit.”
“You’re misinterpreting—”
“No,” I said. “I’m identifying.”
He exhaled sharply. “Isabella, you are stepping into a family that doesn’t forgive mistakes. You think you’re controlling this, but you’re walking into a system that already has contingencies for you.”
“And you’re one of them?”
“I’m trying to prevent damage.”
“To whom?” I asked quietly. “Me? Or them?”
He didn’t answer.
---
Later, alone in the east wing, I removed my earrings and placed them in their velvet case.