CHAPTER 126: PIECE BY PIECE

The warm sunlight streaming in through the large windows of Elizabeth’s study cast golden streaks on the polished hardwood floor. But the woman seated in the high-back velvet chair was far more interested in the flickering images playing across her laptop screen than the beauty of the mid morning light.

A quiet smile curved Elizabeth’s lips, slow and satisfied, as she leaned forward, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. Her sharp eyes watched every second of the footage playing before her—the grainy black-and-white CCTV recording from the hallway outside Eliana Howells’s hospital room.

It wasn’t high-definition, but it was enough. Enough to know she’d been the one who’d been outside Eliana’s room, listening to Ivy speaking her nonsense.

Elizabeth leaned back with a slow breath, her body relaxing for the first time since that morning. It’s done, she thought. And it was worth every second of planning.

Her two guards—men she had trusted for years—had left at dawn. She didn’t ask them what lies they told or how they got past hospital staff to retrieve the footage. It wasn’t her concern. She had just told them to go to the hospital and get the footage without thinking if using violence.

And just like every other time, they had delivered.

Regina Quinn, for all her reputation and ruthless polish, had arrived at the hospital too late. She wouldn’t find the footage, no matter how much she shouted or demanded. And she’d never guess that Elizabeth was the one who had taken it.

The corners of Elizabeth’s lips lifted again. There was something deeply satisfying about beating Regina at her own game. She was very sure by now, Regina was stumbling, confused, and probably furious.

Elizabeth didn’t need to see her face to imagine it—eyes wide, mouth trembling with restrained rage. The look of a woman who realized, maybe for the first time, that she wasn’t untouchable especially with her daughter’s dignity being questioned and their reputation in the mug.

Stefan had pulled the last straw she had not expected from him especially after he was reprimanding her for risking her life.

A buzzing sound pulled her attention back. Her phone lit up on the desk beside her. She checked and saw it was Claire’s name flashing on the screen.

Elizabeth picked it up with ease, brushing her thumb across the screen. "Claire," she said warmly, placing her laptop aside. "I was expecting your call."

"Elizabeth!" Claire’s voice rang with a breathless excitement, the kind that made Elizabeth sit up straighter. "You weren’t joking, were you? That tip you gave me... my inbox is blowing up. I haven’t seen this much traction on a single article in months! To think different blogs are carrying it and even making a mess of everything, just as long as they’re attracting traffic."

Elizabeth let out a soft, amused chuckle. "I told you it would make waves. Ivy didn’t just put her foot in her mouth—she jumped headfirst into a fire she couldn’t control."

Claire laughed too, the sound bubbling through the phone. "She practically dug her own grave with that speech. The fact that she said all that to a woman in a coma? The readers are livid. Public opinion is turning, Elizabeth. People who used to adore the Quinn name are calling Ivy heartless. Cold. Entitled. Now they’re adding manipulator on the list after that video Stefan released."

"Good," Elizabeth replied calmly, but there was steel under her voice. "She deserves every word. She tried to ruin my son, Claire. Tried to humiliate him. If she had succeeded, Stefan would have been the one drowning in scandal. Not her."

There was a pause on the other end. Then Claire’s voice lowered. "That’s actually why I called. There’s... a small problem."

Elizabeth’s brow arched. "What kind of problem? What do you mean?"

"It’s Regina." Claire sighed. "She came to see me this morning. Stormed into mu house like she owned the place. She knows I published the article. And now she’s asking questions. A lot of them."

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What kind of questions?"

"She wants to know who gave me the tip," Claire said, her voice more cautious now. "She asked if I had a source. She didn’t say it outright, but I could feel the threat underneath her words. Like she was trying to intimidate me without actually saying it."

Elizabeth was silent for a second, her mind already moving.

"And what did you tell her?" she asked.

"Nothing, of course. I told her my sources are confidential. But that’s why I’m calling. I just wanted to make sure... we’re still keeping this between us."

Elizabeth’s lips curled slowly into a smile. "Absolutely, Claire. You did the right thing. Don’t give her anything. If Regina keeps pressing, just turn it around on her."

Claire sounded hesitant. "Turn it around how?" she asked, confused.

"Say she’s trying to threaten you," Elizabeth said simply. "Write another piece if you have to. Frame it as Regina Quinn using her influence to bully the press. Trust me—people will eat that up. She’ll be too busy defending herself to keep pushing you for names."

Claire was quiet for a few beats, processing the advice. Then she laughed softly. "You’re really good at this, you know that?"

Elizabeth’s voice was cool and proud. "I’ve had a lot of time to learn. People like Regina... they don’t know how to handle losing control. So we take it from them. Quietly. Piece by piece."

Claire let out a thoughtful hum. "Well, I’ll be careful. And thanks, Elizabeth. I really appreciate this. You’ve given me more than a headline—you’ve given me a story that’s going to last for weeks. This story gave me more visibility more than I could ever ask for."

"I know," Elizabeth said, her voice low and amused. "Take care, Claire."

After that, they hung up.

For a long moment, Elizabeth sat there in silence. The quiet hum of the room surrounded her, but her mind was far from still. She turned slowly back toward the laptop screen, which now showed the still image of Ivy mid-sentence, her hand gesturing angrily in the hospital hallway.

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A soft chuckle escaped Elizabeth’s lips as she thought about what and how Regina could be feeling.

Regina must be furious. She laughed again.

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She imagined her slamming her designer bag onto some poor desk, demanding answers from people who didn’t have any. Pacing, snapping, losing control with every second that passed. And the best part? She didn’t even know who was behind it all.

Elizabeth had always known how to play the long game. Unlike Regina, who attacked head-on like a lioness, Elizabeth preferred the quiet poison. The slow burn. She struck from the shadows, unseen until it was too late.

And now... now her enemy was scrambling in the dark, trying to put out a fire she couldn’t even locate.

Elizabeth stood from her chair and crossed the room to pour herself a glass of water. Her reflection in the mirror above the console table looked composed, calm, elegant. But behind her eyes burned a quiet intensity.

"I warned you, Regina," she murmured to herself. "You chose to protect Ivy even when you knew the truth. You let her hurt not just my son but someone else’s child. Now you’re learning what that costs."

She took a sip of water and let the silence settle around her like silk.

There would be more battles to come—she knew that. Regina wouldn’t give up so easily. She never did. But for now... Elizabeth had the upper hand. The footage was safe. Her identity was hidden. And Ivy’s reputation? Sinking like a stone in the sea.

She walked to the window and looked out over the quiet streets of Zeden. People walked by, busy with their daily lives, unaware of the storm brewing in the high circles of the city’s elite.

Let them gossip. Let them speculate.

Elizabeth would sit back and watch it all unfold.

And if Regina Quinn thought this was over, she had no idea what was still coming.

Elizabeth smiled again, a true smile this time—cold, triumphant, and full of quiet fury.

A soft knock on the door pulled Elizabeth from her peaceful thoughts.

"Yes?" she called out, not turning her head.

The door creaked open a little and one of the maids, young and always a little timid, peeked her head through. "Ma’am," she said carefully, her voice barely above a whisper, "Miss Ivy is downstairs. She’s in the living room waiting for you."

Elizabeth turned slowly toward the maid. Her smile, calm and steady, stretched wider. She didn’t even have to ask what Ivy was doing there. No one had to tell her. She already knew.

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"She’s here," Elizabeth murmured, more to herself than to the maid. Her eyes twinkled, and then she chuckled softly. "Of course she is."

The maid stood awkwardly, unsure whether to retreat or stay, her hands nervously wringing the ends of her apron.

Elizabeth waved her off gently. "That will be all. Thank you."

The maid gave a slight bow and disappeared behind the door, closing it softly behind her.