Genevieve sneered with selfish disgust that the child had ruined her couture evening gown.

"What kind of sick game are you playing?" Julian demanded, taking a step toward her. His American accent, usually so polished and controlled, cracked with a sudden, inexplicable anxiety. "Who is the Chairman? Who were you just talking to?"

Genevieve scoffed, though her eyes darted nervously between Julian and Eleanor. "She's bluffing, Julian. She's probably calling some pro-bono divorce lawyer she found online. Let her make a fool of herself."

Eleanor didn't bother to correct them. She turned her back on the two of them, holding Maya securely against her chest, and walked deliberately toward the grand staircase.

"Eleanor!" Julian barked, his voice echoing in the bright, cinematic light of the foyer. "If you walk up those stairs, do not bother coming down to the ballroom tonight! You are explicitly uninvited! You hear me?"

Eleanor didn't pause her stride. "I hear you, Julian. Perfectly."

She carried Maya up the sweeping marble staircase, away from the cruelty of the foyer, until they reached the private guest suite at the end of the hall. Eleanor closed the heavy oak door behind them, locking the deadbolt with a solid, satisfying click. The room was bathed in the same crisp, natural light, highlighting the soft blues and silvers of the decor.

Eleanor set Maya down gently on the edge of the plush velvet sofa. The little girl was no longer sobbing, but her chest still heaved with quiet, residual hiccups.

"Mommy," Maya whispered, her blue eyes looking up fearfully. "Are we in trouble? Daddy sounded really mad."

"No, my sweet girl," Eleanor said softly, dropping to her knees so she was at eye level with her daughter. She reached out, using her thumbs to gently wipe the tears away from Maya’s fair, rosy skin. "We are not in trouble. Not anymore."

Eleanor walked into the adjoining master bathroom and wet a soft washcloth with warm water. She returned to the sofa and carefully, tenderly pressed the cloth against the red welt on Maya’s cheek. The little girl flinched, but Eleanor hummed a quiet, soothing lullaby to keep her calm.

"Why did that lady hit me?" Maya asked, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to step on her dress. I just tripped."

"Because she is a cruel, empty person," Eleanor explained, her voice remarkably steady. "And cruel people hurt others to make themselves feel big. But they are actually very, very small."

Eleanor set the washcloth aside. She reached out and gently straightened the small, glittering tiara resting in Maya's light hair.

"Are we going home now?" Maya asked, looking at the heavy locked door.

Eleanor smiled, a fierce, protective fire burning in her eyes. "We are going to a party first, Maya. And then, we are going to meet your real family. You are going to meet your grandfather."