Love at First Night: The Billionaire's First Love-Chapter 28: The Morrow Mansion

>THIRD PERSON POV

It’s been a week since the wedding descended into chaos, and the Morrow’s mansion has been a pressure cooker ever since. The youngest daughter, Eleina Morrow, seemed to be teetering on the edge of reason.

"LEAVE!"

A vase exploded against the wall, the shards raining down onto the polished floor of the hallway. Two maids, who were just about to tidy the mess, jumped. Their knuckles turned white as they gripped the handles of their cleaning carts. Another shriek, raw and piercing, ripped through the air from inside Eleina’s bedroom.

"Get out! All of you! Leave me alone!" Eleina screamed. A half-eaten plate of food, which one of the maids had attempted to deliver, splattered against the closed door. Gravy dripped slowly down the expensive wood.

The maids exchanged a helpless glance before scurrying back around the corner, their footsteps barely audible on the thick carpet. They knew better than to get caught in the crossfire of Eleina’s outbursts – especially not after the spectacle that had unfolded at the wedding. The entire mansion was walking on eggshells.

Elisha Morrow stood outside her daughter’s locked door, her face a mask of worry and frustration. She knocked firmly, but tried to modulate her voice, attempting a semblance of calm but completely failed. "Eleina, that’s enough! Open this door right now!"

"NO!"

Another crash echoed from within the room, louder this time. It sounded like something heavy. Maybe a lamp. Or a mirror–no one could guess.

"Mother," Alisha said quietly, standing beside her with her arms folded, "shouting at her isn’t going to help."

Elisha glared at her eldest daughter, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "And what do you suggest I do? Let her tear apart her room until she injures herself?"

"Do you want to go inside instead?" Alisha countered, her gaze unwavering.

Inside, Eleina’s voice was cracking, a mix of sobs and untamed fury. "I hate her! I hate them all! I’ll kill her, I swear I will! That bitch ruined everything—she ruined my life!"

More thuds followed – the sound of Eleina kicking at something solid, maybe her dresser. The wood groaned under the assault.

Alisha remained perfectly still, her face remain impassive despite the escalating chaos. She stared straight ahead, focusing on the closed door, her expression unreadable. She had witnessed similar scenes before, years ago, when her father’s infidelity had come to light, and her mother had discovered the existence of his mistress’s daughter.

Those memories lingered like a bad taste in her mouth.

Elisha pressed her forehead against the cold wood of the door. "Eleina, sweetheart... please. Open the door. Talk to us." Her voice was pleading, laced with almost a desperation.

"NO!" Eleina shrieked. "Go away! You’re all useless!"

Elisha flinched, her shoulders slumping slightly.

Inside the room, Eleina’s muttering grew louder, more frantic, bordering on unhinged. "She married him... she married my fiancé, at my wedding... who does that? That snake. That trash. I’ll—God, I’ll—"

Her voice broke, a strangled sob escaping her lips. Then, it rose again, fueled by pure, unadulterated rage instead of tears.

"And the Archevals—covering everything up like it’s nothing! ’Don’t speak to the press, Eleina.’ ’We’ll handle it quietly, Eleina.’ They are trying to silenced me! My humiliation buried like some embarrassing secret!" she screamed. She began to claw at her hair, tugging at the strands, as if trying to rip the thoughts from her head. She was spiraling, teetering on the precipice of a complete mental breakdown.

Eleina had been desperately trying to contact the media for a week, but every outlet had turned her down. It was hardly a surprise, given the Archevals’ power. To cross them was to invite ruin. They had fingers in every pie, and their influence stretched to every corner of the country.

Another object hit the floor – this one didn’t shatter, but landed with a soft thud. A pillow, perhaps, or a bag of clothes. Something that wouldn’t break, but would still serve as an outlet for her rage.

Alisha shifted her weight for the first time since the outburst began. "She’s spiraling," she stated, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Oh, do you think I don’t know that?" Elisha snapped, her voice sharp and laced with hysteria. Her hands trembled as she reached for the doorknob again, testing it, as if hoping it would miraculously unlock. "I should have killed that Mallor y before she ever set foot in this family."

"Mother." Alisha’s tone was a quiet warning, cutting through Elisha’s rising panic. "Blaming yourself won’t change what happened."

Elisha whirled around, her anger flaring. "Then do something. You’re the eldest. You’re the one who knows how to handle these things. Your sister has been humiliated in front of all of society. Our family looked weak. She is broken. And you’re standing there like an idiot!"

Alisha’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but she didn’t argue. She simply stared back at her mother, her gaze steady and unwavering.

She grew up cleaning after her family’s mess and now she dare call her an idiot?

Elisha took a shaky breath, trying to regain control of her emotions. She lowered her voice, forcing it to a near whisper. "If you won’t do anything... then I’ll handle it myself. Even if I have to—"

She didn’t finish the sentence, but the implication hung heavy in the air. She would take matters into her own hands, regardless of the consequences.

Alisha finally unfolded her arms, her posture shifting. Her voice was firm, devoid of any hesitation. "Leave it to me."

Elisha stared at her, her eyes searching Alisha’s face for any hint of what she was planning. "So you’ll make them pay?"

"I said leave it to me," Alisha repeated, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were cold, hard chips of ice.

Before Elisha could press further, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Alisha’s personal secretary, a young woman named Sarah, arrived, slightly out of breath.

"Ms. Morrow! Your ten o’clock is waiting. They’re asking if you’ll still be joining the meeting."

Alisha exhaled slowly, deliberately, letting the tension drain from her shoulders. "Yes. I’m coming."

Sarah nodded, stepping aside as Alisha turned away from the bedroom door.

Before leaving, Alisha paused, glancing back one last time. Eleina’s screams echoed from beyond the door, her voice hoarse, raw, and utterly exhausted. The sound was enough to pierce even Alisha’s stoic facade.

"I’ll handle it," Alisha said calmly, almost to herself.

Then, she turned and walked away, leaving the mansion behind.

Alisha stepped outside, the cool morning air hitting her face like a slap. She exhaled a long, steady breath – one she had been holding since the screaming had begun upstairs. As she crossed the front steps, her posture straightened, her shoulders squared. The mansion behind her was still filled with Eleina’s cries, but she refused to let it show on her face.

The car was already waiting at the curb, its engine idling smoothly. Her bodyguard, a man named Marcus, stood beside it, his stance alert and professional. He had a watchful gaze and a strong demeanor. When he saw her, he immediately moved to meet her halfway.

"Ma’am," he said quietly, his tone respectful but laced with a subtle concern. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

He took her briefcase first, then the coat draped over her arm, handling them with the practiced ease of someone who knew her routines better than most. He opened the back door of the car for her, waiting for her to step inside.

But Alisha didn’t get in.

Instead, she stepped closer to him – just enough to make him tense, his muscles coiling under his dark suit. Her hand brushed his sleeve lightly as she leaned toward him, her lips close to his ear.

Then she uttered some whisper, something only two of them will know but whatever it is her words landed like a blow – quiet, but devastating to the man in front of her.

His expression flickered, betraying him for just a moment. A flash of hurt crossed his eyes, followed by a blush rising on his cheeks, a stunned warmth that he couldn’t quite suppress. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure, but the emotions were already fighting to surface.

"Sorry," he managed, his voice slightly hoarse, betraying his inner turmoil.

She straightened, giving him no chance to say anything more. Her face was once again filled with stoicism.

"Let’s go," Alisha said, slipping into the back seat with her usual controlled grace. "I have matters to attend to."