Chapter 14: Humiliation

Three Days Later The Asher estate rose before them like something out of a movie – all white columns, wide balconies, and endless manicured lawns that shimmered under the late summer sun. Eliana Bennett felt small standing there, clutching one of the two old duffel bags stuffed with everything the Holloways had let them keep. Their borrowed pickup truck looked painfully out of place against the pristine cobblestone driveway. She looked over at her father. For years, money had never been a problem. Kenneth Holloway had made sure of that, always sending enough to keep them comfortable, to keep her father’s treatments going without worry. But no amount of money could buy back a failing body. Even then, when their fridge was full and they didn’t have to worry about a roof over their heads, Frank had still coughed into his handkerchief just like he did now. Except now, there was no one left to help. Frank leaned against her, his shoulders trembling with each laboured breath. His frame felt so light, so fragile, like he’d disappear if she let go. Deep lines etched into his face spoke not of poverty, but of pain – years of silent battles with a body that refused to heal. And with Kenneth gone, so was the money that had kept him afloat all this time. Still, his eyes held a soft acceptance, as if he had long given up fighting whatever life threw at him. Eliana’s chest tightened as she took it all in. The mansion was too grand, too perfect. She felt like a stray kitten left at the gates of a palace. Inside, the foyer practically glittered. The marble floors reflected a massive chandelier hanging above them, each crystal catching the light like little stars. The faint scent of lavender polish lingered in the air, clean and expensive. Jason Asher stood waiting for them, shifting his weight nervously. Usually, he carried himself with that easy golden-boy confidence everyone envied at school, but right now, he just looked unsure. His hazel eyes flicked from Eliana to his parents, as if hoping they’d guide him through this moment. Valerie Asher stepped forward first, arms stretched out like she was about to embrace an old friend rather than two people who clearly didn’t belong in her world. Her silver-blonde hair was swept back into an elegant bun that didn’t dare move out of place. Beside her, Richard Asher stood like a statue in his crisp tailored suit, giving them a curt nod that felt more like an inspection than a greeting. Eliana felt her knees tremble slightly under the weight of it all, but she squeezed her father’s arm and forced herself to stand taller. "Eliana dear, Frank, welcome!" Valarie voice was syrupy, her smile a touch too wide. "We’re just heartbroken about your situation. This is your home now, for as long as you need." Eliana’s lips curved into a grateful smile, though her heart clenched. "Thank you, Mrs. Asher. We... we don’t know how to repay you." "Nonsense," Richard said, his tone clipped but not unkind. "You’re Jason’s fiancée. That makes you family." Frank coughed, his voice raspy. "We’re mighty grateful, sir. Won’t be a burden, I promise." Jason stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on Eliana’s shoulder. "It’s temporary, Eli. We’ll figure it all out, okay?" His words were warm, but his touch felt fleeting, like a breeze that slipped through her fingers. The first week felt like stepping into a dream. Valarie went all out, throwing a grand dinner with the table set in flickering candlelight and crystal glasses that caught every glow. Eliana sat beside Jason in a dress Valarie had lent her – it was a little too big, slipping off her thin shoulders, but she didn’t care. Her dark curls were pinned back to show her small, heart-shaped face. Across from her, Frank looked a little better after some days of proper rest. He managed a faint smile as he slowly spooned his soup, his hands still shaky but steadier than before. The Ashers spent the evening telling stories about charity events and big business deals, their voices smooth with sympathy as they spoke of Eliana’s "poor situation." Eliana held onto their kindness like it was life itself, her chest warm with the hope that maybe, just maybe, they had found a place where they finally belonged. But that hope didn’t last long. On the tenth day, everything changed. Eliana was passing by the study when Valarie’s cold, angry voice slipped through the thick wooden door like a knife to her heart. "No inheritance? Not a single cent from Kenneth Holloway? Jason, how could you bring these... these paupers into our home?" Richard’s baritone rumbled in agreement. "We thought she was connected, Jason. You said she was Holloway’s heir!" Eliana froze in the hallway, her hand clutching the tray of tea she’d been asked to bring. Her stomach churned, the porcelain cups rattling faintly. She wanted to run, to hide, but her feet were rooted to the spot. Jason’s voice was defensive, almost whiny. "I didn’t know, okay? I thought she’d at least have something!" Valarie’s laugh was cold. "Well, she doesn’t. And now we’re stuck with her and that sickly father of hers. This is an embarrassment, Jason." The tray slipped from Eliana’s hands, crashing to the floor in a symphony of shattered porcelain. The noise brought Valarie storming out, her hazel eyes blazing. "Eliana! What are you doing, eavesdropping like some servant?" "I—I wasn’t," Eliana stammered, her cheeks burning. "I was just bringing the tea—" "Clean it up," Valarie snapped, her voice like a whip. "And don’t expect the staff to do it for you. You’re not a guest anymore." That evening, the Asher household transformed into a golden cage. Frank, still weak from his latest bout of illness, was summoned to the kitchen. Eliana found him there, hunched over a sink full of dishes, his hands trembling as he scrubbed. Her heart broke at the sight—her proud, gentle father reduced to a servant in a house that had promised them refuge. "Papa, no," Eliana whispered, rushing to his side. "You’re not well. You shouldn’t be doing this." Frank’s eyes, clouded with fatigue, met hers. "Beggars can’t be choosers, Eliana. They’re letting us stay. We gotta pull our weight." "But this isn’t right!" Eliana’s voice cracked, tears brimming. "They said they’d take care of us until we can bounce back on our feet." Frank managed a weary smile. "Life ain’t fair, darlin’. We’ll make do. Always have." Eliana wanted to scream, to storm upstairs and demand answers, but her father’s quiet strength tethered her. She grabbed a sponge, joining him at the sink, her hands shaking with suppressed rage and shame. Meanwhile, Jason’s betrayal cut deeper than his family’s’ cruelty. In the privacy of his sleek, modern bedroom, he lay tangled in silk sheets with Sarai Monroe, her pretty black hair spilling across the pillow. Her green eyes glinted with triumph as she traced a finger along his jaw. "You’re really letting her stay here, Jason? After everything?" Jason sighed, his blonde hair mussed. "It’s not like I had a choice, Sarai. If I kicked her out, it’d look bad. You know how people talk." Sarai’s laugh was sharp, like breaking glass. "Oh, please. You’re just too weak to cut her loose. You love playing the hero, don’t you?" Jason’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. "It’s temporary. I’ll figure out a way to get her out." "You’d better," Sarai purred, her nails digging into his arm. "Because I’m not sharing you forever." Downstairs, Eliana sat alone in the dim library, shadows curling around her like a cold blanket. Everything felt so unreal and terrifying, wrapping around her chest until she could barely breathe. She’d reached out to Jason earlier, just wanting to feel his hand in hers, to remind herself she wasn’t completely alone. But he’d pulled away like her touch burned him. "I’m just tired, Eli," he mumbled, brushing past without even looking at her. His rejection left her aching inside, a raw pain layered over the quiet humiliation of scrubbing floors all day under Valerie’s sharp, mocking gaze. The library door creaked open, and Sarai glided in, her designer heels clicking against the hardwood. She wore a green dress that hugged her curves, her sleek bun gleaming under the lamplight. "Eliana, there you are!" she cooed, her voice dripping with false concern. "I’ve been looking everywhere for you." Eliana looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but hopeful. "Sarai, I... I don’t know how much more I can take. They’re treating Papa like a servant, and Jason—he won’t even look at me." Sarai sank onto the velvet settee beside her, her hand resting on Eliana’s. "Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. This must be so hard." Her tone was tender, but her eyes gleamed with calculation. "You know, maybe it’s time to think about what’s best for you. This place... it’s not good for you or Frank." Eliana’s eyebrows drew together. "But where would we even go, Sarai?" she asked quietly. "We don’t have anything left. Grandpa Kenneth’s supermarket is gone. Every single gift he ever gave us, all the money papa invested from those gifts... it’s all gone. His children took everything from us. There’s nothing left." Sarai tilted her head, her smile sympathetic but razor-sharp. "You’re stronger than this, Eliana. You don’t need to stay here, groveling for scraps. Maybe it’s time to start fresh, somewhere new. I could help you find a place." Eliana’s heart lifted slightly, her trust in Sarai blinding her to the venom beneath the words. "You’d do that for us?" "Of course," Sarai said, her voice smooth as silk. "You’re my best friend. I hate seeing you like this." As Sarai spoke, her mind raced with plans. She’d already contacted a shady landlord willing to rent a rundown apartment to Eliana—one far from the Asher estate, far from Jason. Also a perfect job for someone like her. If Sarai could push Eliana out, she’d have Jason to herself, and Eliana’s humiliation would be complete. The next morning, Eliana stood in the kitchen, apron stained, her hands raw from scrubbing pots. Valarie swept in, her perfume choking the air. "Eliana, this floor is filthy," she snapped, pointing to a spotless tile. "Do it again. And tell your father to stop dawdling in the garden. He’s not here to rest." Eliana bit her lip, swallowing her pride. "Yes, Mrs. Asher." As Valarie left, Jason appeared, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. Eliana reached for his hand, desperate for a shred of warmth. "Jason, can we talk? Please?" He pulled away, his hazel eyes avoiding hers. "Not now, Eli. I’ve got a meeting." Her voice trembled. "You’re always busy. I just... I need you." He sighed, irritation flashing across his face. "I’m doing my best, okay? Just... deal with it for now." As he walked away, Eliana’s knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, the weight of her father’s humiliation and Jason’s rejection crushing her. She was suffocating, trapped in a house that despised her, with nowhere to run. Yet, deep within her, a spark of resilience flickered—a quiet strength that whispered she was more than this golden cage, more than the ashes of her broken dreams. I need to get Papa out of this house, she thought. Maybe Sarai was the answer. Maybe she was the only way to finally make it happen.