A False Heiress's Guide to Love and Power

Chapter 8

“Eat up, have some more,” Brendan said warmly, piling another slice of roast onto her plate.

“If there’s anything you’re craving, just tell me,” his mother added. “I’ll make it for

you.”

Alessia nodded, quietly tucking into her meal. The easy back–and–forth around the table was a warmth she’d rarely known in her seventeen years. Maybe it was the inviting atmosphere, maybe she just couldn’t refuse their kindness, but even though her appetite usually vanished in front of such a feast, she managed to finish at whole bowl of rice–which was no small feat for her.

If the eldest Tate boy ever heard of it, another round of chefs would probably be packing their knives at the Tate estate.

By the end of the meal, the awkward tension had faded. Ethan headed back to campus, while Alessia excused herself upstairs to pack her things. She didn’t have much to her name, so it didn’t take long.

Lying on the bed, she breathed in the fresh scent of sun–dried sheets and laundry soap. The little desk fan creaked and spun, stirring the air–no air conditioning, but it didn’t feel stuffy at all.

Outside, she could hear the Mortons talking in hushed voices. Through the window drifted the muffled sounds of other families going about their lives. For someone used to the silence of gated communities, the vague commotion was oddly comforting. She remembered, vaguely, that when she was very young, she’d known

this kind of life too.

Neither the Mortons‘ good fortune nor Tate Holdings‘ success had always come easy. When Alessia was little, there had been hard times too. She’d just been lucky, those years of struggle ending quickly, and she’d grown up in comfort ever since.

know why, but those almost–forgotten memories came rushing

“Asleep?”

“Asleep.”

Let

stir–fried pork. I’ll pick up some more

1/3

15.35

idea. How’s Zachary

a sigh through the

dreamless and peaceful. By the time she woke, the

Karen was mopping the floor, her smile gentle and kind, the very

The sheets smell wonderful. I

dad and the boys are all out and won’t be home for

the table hardly mattered; in a struggling one,

I can make something myself. Is there anything I

you come with me to the farmer’s

Alessia agreed. Better to keep busy than sit around

finished breakfast quickly and washed her own dishes without being asked. Karen didn’t stop

maybe Alessia just wanted to belong, but she found herself relaxing, fitting in