A False Heiress's Guide to Love and Power

ront doors finally opened, and the butler–who had been standing stiffly at his post–strode out to the car, opening the passenger door with practiced formality.

Out stepped a man and a woman, both dressed with an old–world flair: he wore a tailored suit with a vintage cut, she in a fitted dress that harkened back to the elegance of another era. Both looked to be in their late fifties or early sixties, though the woman had clearly taken pains with her appearance–she could easily pass for early forties.

“Does it really take this long just to open a door?” Hamilton Quincy grumbled, leaning heavily on a silver–handled cane. His face was set in stern lines, voice sharp and openly displeased.

“Can’t be too careful these days,” Alessia shot back, unfazed. “You never know who might try to wander in. It’s best to check before opening up.”

“Such a clever tongue for such a young girl,” Magda sniffed, her gaze cool and assessing as she lifted her chin. Her words were slow and deliberate, laced with a practiced coldness. “I’d watch that mouth, if I were you. Sooner or later, it’ll get you in trouble.”

Alessia offered a pleasant smile, but her words were edged with steel. “People talk fast when they’re young, but some folks just love to lord their age over others. That’s a lot harder to put up with.”

Hamilton’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Alessia?”

“I am.” Alessia’s voice was steady and calm–unapologetic, but not confrontational. Magda let out a dismissive little huff. “Don’t let a taste of success go to your head, dear.” Though there was a family resemblance, Karen’s features were softer and kinder than Magda’s. For all her classic attire, Magda exuded no warmth–only a brittle, proud aloofness.

Alessia’s smile didn’t waver. “Funny. I thought no one in the Quincy family’s ever done anything worth bragging about.”

Magda’s eyes flashed. Alessia’s words slid off her like water, but her own barb found its mark–Magda’s lips thinned in irritation.

could fire back, Karen’s tentative voice

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09:58

Chapter 319

her, her posture shrinking in on itself like a scolded child. Brendan stood quietly at

the sight of her daughter, and Hamilton barely spared a glance, giving a curt, dismissive nod as

fingers. Years of being under their thumb had left deep grooves of anxiety; even

on her back, silent but

late?” Brendan finally asked, keeping his voice

went to a proper school. You think it’s appropriate to keep your elders standing at the door, chatting in

Mortons‘ faces hardened. Ivan, ever attuned

hand tightly,

visitors who don’t

was Hamilton and

in… both of you,” Alessia said, stepping aside before

retort.

passed Karen, he shot her a withering glare