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He insisted on having the family doctor give me another full examination, and a therapist was already waiting.
As I brought a glass of warm milk to his room, I saw through the cracked-open door that his weathered face was streaked with tears.
"I've failed you both... I almost let our Eleanor be hurt today..."
"If anything had happened to her, I wouldn't have wanted to live anymore... our family would be reunited on the other side..."
His old voice was thick with self-blame.
I pushed the door open and sat beside him. "Grandfather, it's over. I'm fine, see?"
My parents' death had cast a long shadow over both of us.
I couldn't imagine what would have happened to him if I had been seriously harmed today.
He stroked my hand. "Eleanor, I didn't take good care of you.
When I see them again, do you think your parents will blame me?"
I squeezed his hand and shook my head fiercely. He had taken the best care of me imaginable.
In his youth, he had commanded respect in every circle, from boardrooms to back alleys.
Nathaniel Thorpe and the head of the Whitmore family had been two of his many followers.
When my parents took over, they slowly transitioned the family business out of the underworld, and my grandfather's era of violent glory faded into legend.
But their deaths had nearly plunged our entire family back into that darkness.
It was for my sake that he had pulled himself together, taken back the reins of the family empire, and installed his old lieutenants as the public faces of his corporations.
He did it all to create a safe, stable environment where I could heal.
It was just our bad luck to run into two spoiled brats like Cassandra and Maxwell, triggering a relapse of the depression I had worked so hard to overcome.
I opened my palm. The pigeon's blood ruby rested there, gleaming softly.
I had secretly had my grandfather's men retrieve it when they pulled me from the water.
"Look, Grandfather. We still have what Mom and Dad left us. Our family is still together."
We looked at each other and smiled.
I didn't return to my company until my finger had fully healed.
It was time to check on my two new "employees."
As I walked in, I heard a loud argument coming from the entrance.
My grandfather, as it turned out, had assigned them to the janitorial staff.
Their daily duties included scrubbing toilets. The two pampered elites couldn't handle it.
Their once-passionate love had curdled into bitter resentment, and they spent their days screaming at each other.
I smiled and greeted them. They fell silent instantly, though I caught the flash of venom in their eyes.
"Your daily wage is one hundred dollars," I said cheerfully.
"Let's see... at this rate, you'll only have to work for me for... another 277 years. Keep up the good work!"
Both their families had cut them off completely, providing no financial support.
When Cassandra heard that number, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fainted.
Without money, they quickly descended into poverty.
To fund her old, lavish lifestyle, Cassandra took out a predatory loan, listing Maxwell as her co-signer.
One night, a group of debt collectors broke into their small apartment and beat a sleeping Maxwell to a pulp.
On their way out, they took the couple's meager savings.
That was the last straw for Maxwell.
He grabbed a kitchen knife, stabbed Cassandra to death, and then walked to the nearest police station to turn himself in.
The Whitmores and the Thorpes, already at odds, declared open war on each other.
Their bitter feud eventually led to the ruin of both families.
By the time I heard this news, I was already the nation's leading fashion designer, too busy and too happy in my chosen field to spare a thought for such sordid affairs.
[END]
