Ellen’s POV

When I woke, my first sensation was anger. Zeke’s coldness had seeped into my dreams, tainting even my subconscious with his disdain. What the hell is wrong with him?

I tossed aside the covers, showered, and dressed, determined to confront him. This silent treatment had gone on long enough.

As I left the room, the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, but it did little to quell my rising frustration. Entering the dining room, I saw Zeke rising from the table as I approached.

“Good morning,” I said, striving for a neutral tone. He didn't respond, but turned to leave, his expression unreadable.

“Zeke, wait,” I called, reaching for his arm. He stopped, but didn't look at me. “Why are you treating me like this?”

His eyes flicked to my hand on his arm; with a swift movement, he pulled away, glaring. “I hate it when filth stains me,” he spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

I gasped, the words hitting me like a slap. “Filth?” I repeated, my voice trembling with shock and hurt.

“Yes, filth,” he snapped. “That’s what you are to me, Ellen.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I stepped back, reeling. Without another word, I stormed out of the house, my vision blurred with anger and humiliation.

I got in my car and gripped the steering wheel tightly. How had things gone so wrong? The Zeke I knew would never have spoken to me like that. I started the engine and drove aimlessly, the roads a blur as I replayed the morning's events. Zeke’s words echoed in my ears, each one a dagger.

Filth? How dare he?

I pulled into a quiet park and parked, needing a moment to compose myself. I got out and walked to a nearby bench; the cool morning air did little to soothe my burning anger. I sat and tried to make sense of everything.

How had it come to this? I had loved Zeke, and believed he loved me. But now, surveying the wreckage of our relationship, I couldn't remember what that love felt like. All I felt was anger and hurt.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. A message from my father: “Can you come home now? We need to talk.”

I sighed and replied that I’d be home soon. I stood, took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I couldn’t afford to fall apart. Too much was at stake.

Driving home, my mind churned with plans. Zeke’s reaction had been harsher than I anticipated, but it also meant he was close to breaking. I needed to exploit that.

Pulling into the driveway, I felt a grim determination. I found my father in his study, pacing.

“Ellen, what happened?” he demanded.

“You know, Zeke being Zeke,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

He studied me, his expression softening slightly. “What happened to Zeke?”

I took a deep breath and told him everything: Zeke’s coldness, his cruel words at breakfast. My father’s face darkened with anger, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind.

“We can’t let this continue,” he said. “We need to turn this situation around.”

“I know,” I replied, my voice firm. “But we need to be careful. Zeke is on edge; if we push him too far, he might snap.”

My father nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. We’ll have to tread carefully. But we can’t let him see any weakness. We need to show him we’re in control.”

I nodded, feeling resolve settle over me. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Dad. We can’t let him win.”

As we talked, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID; his expression shifted to interest. “Excuse me a moment, Ellen,” he said before answering. I watched him intently.

“Yes, Mr. Frank,” he said. He listened, his face unreadable. Then, a slow smile spread across his features. “Excellent. Thank you for the update.” He ended the call and turned to me, eyes gleaming. “The investor has finally paid. One billion pounds into the company.”

My heart leaped. “A billion pounds? That’s so fucking incredible, Dad!”

“Yes, it is,” he replied, genuine happiness in his voice. “This will give us the leverage we need. Things are finally looking up.”

We shared a moment of mutual satisfaction, the earlier tension forgotten. But then, his phone rang again. He glanced at it, his expression darkening. “It’s Mr. Finley,” he said, answering. “Yes, Finley. What’s the situation?”

I watched as his face grew more serious. “So what has happened?” he asked, his tone edged with concern.

Mr. Finley’s voice was barely audible, but I sensed the urgency. My father’s jaw tightened. “Don’t worry, you say?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

He listened intently, then his expression softened slightly. “They’ve intercepted it and gotten the address of the real meeting,” he relayed to me. “They’ve sent Kamille a fake address.”

A slow smile crept back onto his face. “Good, good, good,” he said, nodding. “Finish off whoever it is and get whatever it is the person has. We cannot afford any loose ends.”

He ended the call and turned to me, his eyes glinting with relief and triumph. “We’ve got it under control, Ellen.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “That’s such a relief, Dad. Things are finally falling into place.”

He nodded, still smiling. “Indeed they are. We’ve been through a lot, but it looks like our perseverance is paying off.”

Feeling a wave of shared triumph, I laughed. My father joined in, our joy filling the room. The sound of our laughter felt almost foreign after the recent stress.

My father rang the bell on his desk. A housekeeper appeared. “Bring us a bottle of our finest wine,” he instructed. She nodded and left.

She returned with the wine and two glasses. My father poured us generous amounts, the deep red liquid glinting.

“To our success,” he said, raising his glass.

I clinked my glass against his. “To our success,” I echoed, feeling a sense of unity and purpose. We took a sip.

“You know,” my father began, swirling his wine, “We should start thinking about getting your siblings out of jail.”

My eyes widened. The thought of seeing my siblings free was both exhilarating and daunting. “Do you really think it’s possible, Dad? I mean, with the level of evidence…”

He leaned back, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “Ellen, in this fucking world, there’s nothing money cannot do. And right now, we’re fucking billionaires.”

I felt excitement mixed with apprehension. “But the charges are serious, Dad. It’s not just about the money. There’s a lot at stake.”

He nodded, acknowledging the gravity. “I understand that, Ellen. But we’ve faced worse and come out on top. We’ll use every resource at our disposal. We’ll hire the best lawyers, bribe whoever needs bribing, and manipulate the system just like we always do.”

I sighed, my mind racing. The prospect of having my siblings back was enticing, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy. “I trust you, Dad. But we need to be careful. One wrong move and everything we’ve worked for could crumble.”

He reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on mine. “We’ve come this far, Ellen. We won’t let anything stand in our way. Our family will be whole again, and we’ll be stronger than ever.”

I nodded, feeling renewed determination. “Okay, let’s do it. Let’s bring them home.”

He smiled, raising his glass once more. “To our family.”

“To the family,” I echoed, clinking my glass against his.