Chapter 7 - The Confrontation in the Garden
The gardens of the Kensington estate were private, surrounded by high brick walls covered in ivy. It was a rare, peaceful oasis in the heart of the bustling city.
Eleanor Whitmore stood on the gravel path, her coat collar turned up against the morning chill. She was waiting for her car to be packed. Alexander had given her until noon to vacate her private suite and move to the family’s country estate in Gloucestershire.
"You are destroying this family, Alexander," Eleanor said as her son walked down the path toward her. "For a servant. A girl who sweeps your floors."
"She doesn't sweep my floors, Mother," Alexander said. "And she is more of a mother to my children than Charlotte ever was, and certainly more of a guardian than you."
"I did what I did to protect your legacy!" Eleanor cried, her eyes flashing with a desperate, aristocratic pride. "Do you know what the papers would do if they found out the Whitmore heir was... was defective? If they saw her in a wheelchair? The shares would plummet. The board would lose confidence in your leadership!"
"Iris is not defective," Alexander said, his voice dropping into a register that made his mother flinch. "She is a two-year-old child who needed time, patience, and love. Three things you have never understood."
"And what about Grace?" Eleanor sneered. "What happens when she decides she wants more than a nanny's wage? What happens when she wants your name? Your fortune?"
"Then I will give it to her," Alexander said smoothly.
Eleanor froze, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide with horror. "You... you wouldn't."
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"I would," Alexander said. "Because she is the only person in this family who has ever looked at my daughters and seen their potential, rather than their price tag."
He turned on his heel, leaving his mother standing alone on the damp gravel path as the black Mercedes sedan pulled up to take her away.
