Annelise stood silently in the crowd, watching the scene unfold.
In her four years living at the Lehman Estate, she had never once laid eyes on that bracelet.
She had only heard Harriet mention it in passing—a legendary, priceless heirloom locked away in the deepest part of the vault, meant strictly for the "most important person" in the family.
It turned out that person was never meant to be her.
The faint curve of her lips turned utterly cold.
The ceremony pressed on.
The final stage of the ritual was the ceremonial toast.
According to tradition, as the younger brother and sister-in-law, Hackett and Annelise were required to approach the stage together and offer the matriarch a toast of respect.
When the MC called their names, Annelise felt the weight of hundreds of eyes snap onto her instantly.
Those stares were loaded with pity, thinly veiled mockery, malicious glee, and pure, unfiltered morbid curiosity.
She took a slow, deep breath, stood up, and plastered on that flawless, impenetrable, docile smile.
She walked up the steps and took her place right beside Hackett, who was already waiting for her.
An attendant brought over a silver tray holding two delicate, steaming porcelain cups of tea.
She picked one up, walked over to Lizzie, and bowed deeply, respectfully offering the cup with both hands.
"Mother, a toast of respect."
Lizzie didn't even bother to look at her.
Her entire focus was squarely on Manuel, who was sitting beside her, happily babbling and tugging at the gold tassels of her dress.
Without so much as a glance, Lizzie casually reached out, grabbed the cup from Annelise's hands, and slammed it down onto the side table.
She didn't let a single drop touch her lips.


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