Alexander's apartment became my temporary sanctuary. After that night, we formed an unspoken alliance—he provided protection and resources, while I provided information about Victoria and the Stanford family's conspiracies.

My father was recovering well in the hospital, but I knew Victoria wouldn't give up easily. After being released on bail, she immediately hired the best lawyer in town to prepare her defense. Her strategy was obvious: deny everything and portray me as a mentally unstable girl, just as she had done to my mother.


"She will try to destroy your credibility," Oliver warned me during a meeting. "She will dig up anything that could be used to question your mental state."

"Let her try," I replied calmly. "This time I'm ready."

My mother had moved back into the Haiston house, reclaiming her position as the lady of the house. Sophia had been sent to a boarding school in Europe, away from media attention. She had testified against Victoria in a plea deal in exchange for a lighter sentence.


One morning, I was drinking coffee in Alexander's kitchen when he walked in with a newspaper in his hand.

"You should see this," he said, his expression serious.


I took the newspaper, the headline boldly stating: "Haston Family Scandal: Artist's Daughter Accused of Abusing Stepmother."

"What?" I read the article in disbelief. Victoria claimed that I had been psychologically abusing her for years, even threatening her life. She described me as a young woman full of hatred and delusions, just like my "mentally ill" mother.

"This is her counterattack," Alexander said, sitting across from me. "She's portraying herself as a victim in front of the public."

I put down the newspaper, feeling a surge of anger. "How dare she? After what she did to my mother?"

"This is her strategy," Alexander said. "She knows she might lose in court, so she's trying to win in public opinion."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. "Then we'll beat her at her own game."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

"It's time for the public to hear the truth," I said. "The complete, unfiltered truth."

Two days later, The New York Times published a lengthy interview titled "Breaking the Silence: Ella Haston Tells Her True Story." In the interview, I described in detail how Victoria systematically abused my mother, manipulated my father, and attempted to have me committed to a psychiatric institution. I provided evidence—medical records, bank transfers, photocopies of Victoria's diary.

After the interview was published, public opinion quickly shifted to support me. More people began to come forward, sharing their negative experiences with Victoria. A former family doctor admitted that she had been paid to issue false mental health diagnoses. A former butler described Victoria's abuse of my mother.

Victoria's image rapidly collapsed in the public eye.

But I knew that a wounded animal is most dangerous. Victoria would strike back, and more viciously.

Sure enough, a week later, I received an anonymous package. Inside was a photograph—a picture of my mother and Oliver together from twenty years ago, looking very intimate. There was also a note: "Does your father know about your mother's past relationship with Oliver?"

This was another attempt by Victoria to create division between us. But I wouldn't fall for it.

I immediately contacted Oliver and told him about the photograph.

"Is this true?" I asked. "You and my mother were once...?"

Oliver sighed. "Yes, we were close before she met your father. But she chose Richard, and I respected her choice."

"Victoria is trying to use this to divide us," I said.

"She won't succeed," Oliver said firmly. "We won't let her."

I decided to take the initiative and show the photograph and note to my father.

"Dad," I said, sitting beside his hospital bed. "There's something you should know."

I handed him the photograph. He looked at it for a long time, then smiled slightly.

"I know," he said, surprising me. "I've always known Elizabeth and Oliver once had feelings for each other. That was before we met."

"You're not angry?"

"Why should I be angry?" he asked. "The past is the past. What matters is the present." He held my hand. "Ella, I've made many mistakes. I let Victoria blind me, keeping me away from you and your mother. I can never make up for those lost years, but I hope we can start over from here."

I felt tears welling up. "I hope so too, Dad."

Just then, my phone rang. It was Alexander.

"Ella," his voice was tense. "You need to return to my apartment immediately. There's an emergency."

"What happened?"

"Katherine," he said briefly. "She's here."