At the Hawkins Estate, a woman clad in designer fashion was seated in the living room of the main house, her fury palpable enough to terrify the household staff into silence.

In a fit of rage, she hurled her tea cup to the floor, shattering it as she shrieked, "Witch! Witch! Witch!"

The maids, petrified, knelt in unison, trembling uncontrollably.

This woman was Helen Murphy, known among the Hawkins as their own Helen. Nearing her fifties yet with a beauty regimen that made her appear barely over forty, Helen was innately jealous, especially since she didn't possess the natural beauty of Pamela Patel, Elysia's mother.

The object of her long-standing unrequited love, Clayton Hawkins, had chosen Pamela over her. Adding insult to injury, on the very day both women married into the Hawkins family, Old Mrs. Hawkins, Betty, had disregarded Helen's feelings entirely, passing the family reins to Pamela during the wedding celebrations.

Hence, from the day she married into the Hawkins family, Helen saw Pamela as a thorn in her side.

been the lady of the Hawkins Estate. Helen had to mask her hatred with respect, playing

her true feelings. She vented her frustrations on Pamela whenever she could. If not for the consideration of Clayton and the Patel family, Helen would have

a high-society luncheon earlier that day. A wealthy rival had publicly exposed her, claiming her husband, Carl Hawkins, was entangled with a tall, leggy inte star, making her the subject

woman had advised Helen to "keep a tighter leash" on her husband. As if! Carl, known for his philandering ways, had countless mistresses. Their marriage, a result of Helen's scheming,

was clear: Helen was being

claimed that the Hawkins family was now solely upheld by Clayton, insinuating that the rest were mere parasites. Equally infuriating was their praise for Pamela, now considered a lunatic, as "Oceanopolis's most graceful woman," her beauty

cursed, "Even in her madness, she dares to overshadow me? What serene grace, what scholarly poise, what

witch, why doesn't she just

dead care. She should be searching in hell, for that's where her daughter

to spite me, living out of sheer malice. A

a stark contrast to the tension. Her beauty, undiminished by

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