Meanwhile, outside, a storm brewed in the form of Amelia's indignation. She stormed through the gates like a tempest, her fury palpable in the air that trembled around her. Her entrance was a whirlwind that swept through the stately home, disrupting the calm that had settled briefly after Marley's exit.
"Unbelievable!" Amelia spat out, her gaze darting venomously toward the flurry of activity. "Everyone of note knows Marley was once an Archer. This—this sudden turn of events is..." Her voice broke off as she struggled to contain the swell of emotions, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. The very walls seemed to recoil at her anger.
"Mrs. Amelia," the butler interjected with practiced restraint, his posture a paragon of respect despite the vitriol aimed his way. He knew better than to fuel the fire but stood ready to face the blaze.
"Tell me, Thomas," Amelia began again, her tone steely, "how do we salvage our reputation now? How do we navigate this... scandal?"
"Scandal or not, Mrs. Amelia, the decision stands. We prepare for a wedding." Thomas's reply was firm, yet not without a hint of understanding.
Amelia's nostrils flared as she surveyed the room, her gaze cutting through the bustle of servants with the precision of a scalpel. "This marriage is preposterous!" she seethed, her voice a whip-crack in the stately morning room where preparations for the upcoming nuptials hummed like a beehive. "It will drag both the Adams and the Archer family names through the mud. It's absolutely out of the question."
Thomas, the butler, remained a picture of composure amidst the tempest of Amelia's wrath. His eyes held a glint of understanding, yet his stance was resolute. "The eldest," he began, his tone even, "the lineage of the Adams family must remain unblemished. An illegitimate child is not an option. Moreover," he added, the words deliberate, "convincing Master Dane to agree to these nuptials has been no small feat."
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, a tremor of frustration running through her fingers. Amelia's face fell; her pride wounded, her plans unravelling. How could she have overlooked such a detail? Dane, who had always been headstrong, had assented to this union with Marley—Marley, of all people!
"Miss Amelia," Thomas whispered, leaning closer, his voice a susurration meant only for her ears, "you are acutely aware of the boss' disposition. He is not one to bend once his mind is made up."
The truth of his statement struck Amelia like a physical blow, sending ripples of anger and defeat through her poised exterior. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, betraying her stoicism. She turned away from Thomas, hiding the vulnerability that threatened to crack her façade.
A heavy silence enveloped the room, broken only by the soft rustling of fabric as another gown was brought forth for inspection. The scent of fresh flowers being arranged did little to mask the underlying tension—a tension that Amelia felt coiling tighter around her heart.
"Very well," she muttered under her breath, her thoughts a whirlwind of indignation and begrudging acceptance. The reality of the situation settled upon her like a shroud. There was no escaping it; the wedding would proceed with or without her blessing.
"Prepare for the consequences, then," she spat venomously, before whisking herself out of the room with a swish of expensive silk, leaving behind the echo of her disdain.
Amelia's heels clicked against the marble floor with a rhythm that matched her racing heart. The grand hallway of the Adams estate, usually a sight to behold with its gilded mirrors and portraits of ancestors, felt like a narrowing tunnel as she made her escape. Each step was a silent declaration of her defeat, her hands trembling minutely at her sides—a detail unnoticed by all but the most observant.
The world outside offered no respite; the sun seemed to mock her with its cheerful glow. She fumbled with her phone, the sleek device cold and unyielding in her grasp. With a practiced swipe, she dialed Oscar, her fingers betraying her with their slight quiver.
"Mother?" Oscar's voice crackled through the speaker, tinged with urgency. "What's happening with Dane and Marley?"
"Your grandfather," she spat out the name like a curse, "he always favored Dane. And now look, he waltzes back home and is handed Swisco on a silver platter. And now arranged for Dane to marry Marley." Her words were a caustic whisper, each one laced with the venom of betrayal.
"Wait, what? He's marrying Marley?" Oscar's confusion bordered on hysteria, the background noise of his environment punctuating his disbelief.
"Indeed," Amelia hissed, her pace slowing as she reached the sanctuary of her car. The leather seat embraced her, but offered no comfort for the turmoil within. "That old man has lost his senses—setting up this farce of a marriage."
"Marley? But she was—" Oscar began, only to be cut off by his mother's bitter interjection.
"Your ex-wife, yes! The very one," Amelia confirmed, a harsh laugh escaping her lips. It was a sound devoid of humor, filled instead with scorn. "It seems we're to play pretend, like this union is anything more than a crude patch over a scandal."
"Damn it," Oscar's voice was a growl, resonating with shared frustration. "This can't be happening. Dane gets everything, and I—"
"Enough, Oscar!" Amelia's command sliced through the air, sharp and decisive. She closed her eyes briefly, willing away the image of Sebastian's smug expression. "We will deal with this. We must be strategic."
Her mind raced, plotting and planning. The Adams family legacy was a fortress, and she had spent years fortifying its walls. This latest affront from her father was a crack in the stone, a threat that could bring everything tumbling down if not managed with care.
"Listen," she continued, her tone conspiratorial now, a snake coiling before the strike. "We need to think this through. There might be another way to sway the board, to shift the balance back in our favor."
"Alright," Oscar said, his voice steadier, mirroring his mother's resolve. "I'll come over. We'll talk."
"Good," Amelia replied, ending the call. She leaned back, allowing herself a moment to breathe. The car's engine hummed to life at her command, a beast awakening. As she drove off, the rearview mirror reflected a woman whose eyes were steel, whose determination was as unyielding as the empire she sought to protect.