The taxi pulled up to an imposing gate that stretched across the width of a small street. Black wrought iron bars rose at least fifteen feet high, with golden tips that glinted under the setting sun. Beyond the gate stood a massive estate—No. One Manor—the legendary Sterling residence.
I glanced at Old Mrs. Sterling, who had dozed off during our ride. Her head rested against the window, white hair neatly pinned in a bun despite our long day.
"Mrs. Sterling," I said gently, touching her arm. "I think we're here."
She stirred, blinking slowly as she oriented herself. "Oh, yes. Home sweet home."
The taxi driver turned around. "This is as far as I go, ma'am. Security won't let me through without clearance."
I nodded and paid the fare, then helped Mrs. Sterling out of the car. She leaned heavily on my arm as we approached the gate, where two guards stood at attention.
"Excuse me," I called out. "I'm here to bring Mrs. Sterling home."
The guards exchanged glances.
"ID, please," one of them requested, approaching us cautiously.
I shifted uncomfortably. "I don't have clearance. I'm just dropping her off."
Mrs. Sterling patted my hand. "Don't worry, dear. They know me."
The guard studied Mrs. Sterling's face, recognition flickering in his eyes. He spoke into his communication device, then turned back to us.
"Please wait here. Someone will come to escort Mrs. Sterling inside."
I pulled out my phone and texted the number saved as "Grandson" in Mrs. Sterling's phone: "We're at the gate. Your grandmother is tired. Please send someone quickly."
While waiting for a response, I helped Mrs. Sterling to a stone bench just outside the gate.
"Thank you for bringing me home," she said, squeezing my hand. "You'll come in and meet Puppy now, won't you?"
I smiled politely. "I should probably head back once you're safely inside."
"Nonsense!" She gripped my arm more firmly. "You must come in. I insist."
Before I could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air like a knife.
"What do you think you're doing?"
I turned to see Fiona striding toward us, Genevieve close behind. My stomach knotted instantly.
"Fiona," I said evenly. "What are you doing here?"
She ignored my question, her eyes darting between me and Mrs. Sterling. "Are you trying to force your way into the Sterling estate now? How pathetic."
Genevieve stepped forward, her face twisted with contempt. "First she claims to be married to Arthur Sterling, and now she's bringing random old women to his gate. Your desperation is showing, Elara."
"I'm not desperate," I replied, keeping my voice calm. "I'm helping Mrs. Sterling get home."
Fiona laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Mrs. Sterling? You expect us to believe this old woman is related to Arthur Sterling?"
"I don't expect you to believe anything," I said. "I'm not here for you."
I checked my phone again. No response. Mrs. Sterling was looking increasingly confused by the hostility.
"Elara, who are these rude young women?" she asked, her voice frail.
Before I could answer, Genevieve pushed past me to tower over the seated woman.
"Listen here," she spat. "I don't know what lies Elara has told you, but she's using you to try to get to Arthur Sterling. She's nothing but a manipulative gold-digger."
Mrs. Sterling's face hardened. "I beg your pardon? Who do you think you are, speaking to me this way?"
"Mother, please," I said, trying to defuse the situation. "Let's just wait for someone to come get Mrs. Sterling."
"Mother?" Mrs. Sterling looked at me in confusion. "That awful woman is your mother?"
Fiona sneered. "Not her real mother. Just the woman who was stupid enough to raise her."
I ignored the jab, focusing instead on Mrs. Sterling, whose face had gone pale. "Are you feeling alright?"
She pressed a hand to her chest. "My medication... I need my medication."
I quickly rummaged through her handbag, finding a small pill bottle. Empty.
Panic surged through me. "Mrs. Sterling, when did you last take your medication?"
"This morning," she whispered, her breathing becoming labored.
I turned to the guards. "She needs medical attention! Please, let us through!"
One guard hesitated, then spoke into his device again.
Fiona grabbed my arm. "Stop this act. You're not getting inside."
I yanked my arm away. "This isn't an act! She needs help!"
"The family doctor is coming," the guard announced. "Please stay calm."
Mrs. Sterling's condition was visibly deteriorating. Her lips had taken on a bluish tint, and she was struggling to breathe.
"We can't wait," I decided, moving to help her stand. "I'm carrying her in."
Genevieve stepped directly in front of us. "You're not taking one step closer to that gate."
"Get out of my way!" I snapped, my patience shattering. "This woman needs help NOW."
"Such devotion," Fiona mocked. "What did she promise you? Money? Access to Arthur Sterling?"
I ignored her, carefully lifting Mrs. Sterling into my arms despite her weight. The old woman's head lolled against my shoulder, her breathing shallow.
"Move!" I demanded, pushing forward.
Fiona blocked my path. "Guards! This woman is trying to trespass!"
The guards looked uncertain, caught between protocol and a medical emergency.
"Please," I pleaded. "Look at her. She needs help immediately."
I took another step forward. Genevieve grabbed my leg, nearly causing me to stumble with Mrs. Sterling in my arms.
"Let go!" I shouted, trying to keep my balance.
"Help!" Genevieve screamed, still clinging to my leg. "This woman is attacking us and trying to break into the Sterling estate!"
I was trapped in a grotesque tug-of-war, with Mrs. Sterling's frail body in my arms and Genevieve hanging onto my leg. Fiona positioned herself directly in front of me, effectively blocking any movement toward the gate.
"You've lost your minds," I said through gritted teeth. "A woman is dying, and all you care about is keeping me out?"
"All we care about is stopping your pathetic schemes," Fiona hissed. "You're not getting past us."
Just then, the smooth purr of an engine cut through the chaos. A sleek black Bentley pulled up to the gate, and the guards snapped to attention.
The back door opened, and Arthur Sterling emerged. Tall, imposing, dressed in an immaculate charcoal suit. His cold eyes swept over the scene with surgical precision.
"What is happening here?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the air like steel.
Fiona immediately switched to a demure smile. "Mr. Sterling! Thank goodness you're here. This woman—" she pointed at me, "—was trying to force her way into your home using this poor old lady as an excuse."
Arthur's gaze landed on me, recognition flickering in his eyes. But before he could speak, his expression changed dramatically as his focus shifted to the woman in my arms.
His pupils contracted in shock. The cold mask slipped, revealing raw alarm.
"Grandmother?" he whispered, his voice suddenly stripped of its commanding power.