Chapter 85
Chapter 85:
Gracie slipped through the door well past midnight, the click of the latch echoing through the still house. The living room lights were on, casting a pale glow over the elegant woman sitting stiffly on the sofa.
No household staff lingered nearby, and the air itself felt tense, heavy with disapproval.
Crossing the room, Gracie asked quietly, “Why aren’t you asleep yet p>
Valeria lifted her gaze, her expression carved in ice. “So this is how the Sullivan family raises their daughters? No sense of discipline at all. Your parents have clearly failed you p>
A faint scowl flickered across Gracie’s face at the biting comment. “I was working late. What does that have to do with my family p>
“How is it not related?” Valeria’s tone sharpened. “Do you really think that meager paycheck of yours matters to us? Brayden married you for appearances’ sake, nothing more. Your duty is to play the perfect wife—quiet, graceful, obedient. That’s all that’s expected of you. A proper woman knows her place: supporting her husband, raising children, and keeping the home in order. I heard your birth mother died young, and your stepmother raised you, so clearly no one ever bothered to teach you these things p>
Her words cut like glass, and when she finally rose, her every movement radiated entitlement. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll stay at home. I’ll personally teach you manners. You’ll learn how to move, speak, and dress with the refinement expected of this family p>
With that, she glided from the room, chin tilted high, as though the world itself wasn’t worthy of her notice.
Left behind, Gracie could only stare, disbelief flickering across her face. What on earth was Valeria thinking? Marrying Brayden didn’t mean she’d surrendered her life to his family’s control.
Yet before dawn even broke, a household staff member yanked Gracie out of sleep.
“Wake up! Do you know what time it is? It’s already late! Mrs. Stanley has been waiting quite a while,” the staff member said.
Groggy, Gracie snatched up her phone and scowled at the glowing screen. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, her voice thick with outrage. “It’s five o’clock in the morning p>
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“Five o’clock means wake-up time,” the staff member announced, tugging the blanket off without mercy. “Mrs. Stanley has been waiting p>
Gracie groaned but swung her legs over the bed, dressing sluggishly before trudging downstairs.
Valeria sat on the sofa, posture impeccable, her face a mask of cool detachment—a perfect reflection of Brayden’s usual expression, though hers carried an extra chill of disdain.
“Is there something you wanted?” Gracie asked.
Valeria’s brows arched. “What? You’ve already forgotten what I told you yesterday?” She set her coffee cup down with a sharp clink and flicked a look toward the kitchen. “Why in the world are you still standing there? Get moving p>
Gracie’s lips curved into a dry smile. “Did the great Stanley family hit financial trouble overnight? You can’t even hire a cook? If the problem’s money, I don’t mind pitching in. I am family now—it’s only right I help out p>
Valeria’s eyes narrowed, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “Such a sharp tongue,” she said coolly, clearly catching the mockery beneath Gracie’s tone. “Now that you’re part of this family, start acting like it. A good wife knows how to charm our guests and manage the household. You need to handle both p>
At her command, several broad-shouldered maids stepped out from the kitchen, forming a loose circle around Gracie.
A flicker of frost crossed Gracie’s expression. “What’s this supposed to be? If I don’t play along, are you planning to use force p>
“This isn’t up to you,” one maid replied flatly, seizing her by the arm. “Come with us p>
The moment the words left her mouth, they seized Gracie and marched her straight into the kitchen.
Gracie fought back, but her resistance barely slowed them; years of manual work had made them strong as oxen. “Let go! You’re holding me against my will!” she bellowed, her voice echoing off the marble floor.
“Gracie, don’t fool yourself into thinking anyone will come running to save you. In this house, no one dares to lift a finger against me—unless Kevin himself steps in.” Valeria’s voice cut like ice through the air. She stood in the living room, her face devoid of warmth, eyes gleaming with cruel authority.
Amid the commotion, Gracie’s resistance faltered, and the maids hauled her deeper into the kitchen.
When Brayden returned home, his brows drew together as he scanned the quiet living room. By now, Gracie was meant to be home.
“Where’s Gracie? Didn’t she come back last night?” he demanded, his tone clipped.