Alone in the vast, silent confines of her penthouse, Ravenna finally broke. The last thread of her carefully constructed composure snapped. She stumbled to a nearby table, sweeping off crystal ornaments with a furious, unthinking gesture, sending them crashing to the marble floor. The shattering sound was a mirror of her own fractured heart.
"Injustice!" she hissed, her voice a desperate, guttural whisper that grew into a wail. "They paint me the villain! They call me cruel, greedy! Do they know what I sacrificed? What I bore in silence?"
She paced the ruined room, her crimson gown a stark contrast to her pallid face. Her mind reeled with the perceived slights, the public humiliation, the endless lawsuits. False accusations! she screamed internally. They accuse me of corporate fraud, of malice, but I protected his memory! I fulfilled his dying wish! I saved that foolish girl from herself!
The world, in her eyes, had always been against her. Her humble beginnings, the aristocratic sneers, the constant fight for acceptance, for respect. And then, her husband, the only man who truly understood her, gone. His last request, her solemn promise, had been twisted into a weapon against her. Snow, the symbol of that promise, now haunted her with truths she swore would remain buried.
She thought of Alex. He had approached her recently, proposing an alliance. "Mother," he'd said, his eyes glinting with a dangerous charm, "we could crush them. Humiliate them. Snow White, your pathetic stepdaughter, and my arrogant brother. Together, we could tear down everything they stand for."
But Ravenna had stared at him with cold disdain. She would never accept an alliance with Alex to ruin Snow's life. In her own twisted way, her actions regarding Snow were born from a perverted sense of duty to her late husband's memory, to protect Snow from her own perceived recklessness. Alex's motives were purely destructive, purely self-serving. She might be a queen of shadows, but even she had a line. Her heart, however fractured, still held the echoes of a love that demanded a perverted form of protection, not wanton destruction.
Her pacing slowed. She sank onto the floor amidst the glittering shards of glass, the harsh reality of her solitude settling around her. All the power, all the wealth, felt meaningless without the one thing she truly craved: her family.
"Jeffrey," she whispered, the name a painful caress on her lips. She longed to see him, her son, her hidden treasure. Every blessed day, she wished he were here, a comfort, a confidante, a connection to a part of her past that was untainted by the current bitterness. His return, as stipulated by the will, felt like a distant, agonizing hope. A hope that perhaps, just perhaps, with him, she could finally find some solace, some form of the 'happy family' she had so desperately sought, and now, so brutally shattered.