What shocked Madeline the most was that Eleanor actually had an illegitimate son.
Madeline's mind raced with the implications. The man had to be at least the age of their parents—probably in his fifties or sixties—though she didn't ask for specifics.
Led by the estate staff, Madeline heard the approaching sounds of guests. Just like before, it was a wheelchair carried by hand. Four or five men brought the aging Eleanor into the room, though Madeline noticed they had been stripped of any weapons. Even before Eleanor fully entered, her piercing voice cut through the air.
"Quentin, why do you have such a terrible temper? We agreed to visit your grandfather's grave together. I waited for you until the afternoon, and you lied, claiming you were on your way. But what did you do? You went ahead without saying a word, leaving the press to gossip about our relationship for three whole days..."
Eleanor abruptly stopped mid-sentence as her eyes landed on Madeline, who was sitting right next to Quentin.
She looked incredibly surprised.
Eleanor remembered her clearly. She had ordered this woman beaten multiple times, each one brutal. Yet somehow, she was sitting right here.
Eleanor quickly changed her tune. "Quentin, who is this..."
Her murky eyes locked onto Madeline in a dead stare.
Quentin replied smoothly, "She's my partner, Madeline. And she's going to be my wife. Maddy, say hello to Eleanor."
Eleanor's face stiffened, and she pounded her cane furiously against the floor. "You... you!"
Quentin hadn't even bothered to stand up when she arrived, showing a blatant lack of respect from the very start.
Now, the moment she fired a shot, he offered zero courtesy, clapping back instantly with a devastating counterattack.
Eleanor's face turned blue with rage. Only after a tense, breathless standoff did she force herself to calm down, plastering her hypocritical, elder-stateswoman mask back on.

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