Chapter 8 - The Confrontation at the Penthouse
At precisely 3:15 PM, the elevator doors of Eleanor’s penthouse opened.
It wasn’t my father who stepped out. It was my mother.
Victoria looked like a ghost of the woman who had walked into the Regency Hotel twenty-four hours ago. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, her makeup was smeared, and she was wearing plain jeans and a dark coat—a total departure from her usual polished, high-fashion wardrobe.
She walked slowly into the grand living room, holding a small metal key in her right hand.
I stood beside Eleanor’s desk, my arms crossed over my chest.
Victoria didn’t look at Eleanor. She kept her eyes locked on me.
“Here is your key,” Victoria said, tossing the spare CR-V key onto the mahogany desk. It landed with a hollow clack.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
Victoria took a ragged breath, her chest heaving. “Are you happy now, Arya? You’ve humiliated us. You’ve ruined your sister’s career. You’ve destroyed my standing in the city. Everyone is talking about us. Is this what you wanted?”
“No, Mom,” I said, looking her dead in the eye. “What I wanted was my car back. What I wanted was a simple apology. What I wanted was for you to treat me like a daughter instead of a doormat.”
“I did everything for you!” Victoria yelled, her voice cracking with hysterical rage. “I gave you a roof over your head! I gave you life! And because I asked you to sacrifice a little bit for your sister—who was struggling, who has a family—you set fire to our entire lives!”
“You didn’t ask me to sacrifice, Victoria,” I replied, dropping the word 'Mom' entirely. “You took. You took my car without asking. You took my peace of mind. You broke into my home like a thief in the night. You tried to get me fired from my job today.”
Victoria flinched, stepping back as if I had slapped her.
“You think Madison was struggling?” I continued, taking a step toward her. “Madison has lived off Grandma’s money and your obsession with her her whole life. She broke her own van’s transmission because she neglected to service it for two years, and instead of letting her face the consequences of her own laziness, you came to steal from me.”
“She’s your sister!” Victoria cried out.
“And I’m your daughter!” I shouted back, the anger I had held inside for a decade finally tearing free from my chest. “Where was that concern for me when I was working thirty hours a week in college to pay for my living expenses because you gave my college fund to Madison for her wedding? Where was that concern when I was sick in the hospital two years ago and you didn’t even visit because Madison had a party to attend?”
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Victoria opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. For the first time in her life, she had no comeback, no manipulation tactic, and no authority to fall back on.
“You didn’t protect me,” I said, my voice softening into a cold, permanent finality. “So I protected myself.”
