Mrs. Winston, No Such Person
348 Views · Ongoing · stella
After six years of marriage, Celia's name appeared only on a confidentiality agreement.
On the night of their anniversary, through the glass she saw her husband Arthur, their daughter Léonie, and Diana—the socialite with "only five months left"—dining together. She asked for a divorce, and got only one sentence in return: "Play your part as Mrs. Winston."
Every step after that was hard: her accounts were frozen, her studio was forced to hand over its work, and at a competition the restroom door was locked from the outside. But when she was at her most wretched, someone caught her. Victor had originally been just an employer, hiring her to drive his niece Ivy to and from places; he sewed a tracker into her coat and brought people to the scene during a kidnapping. The two of them went from an employment contract to standing side by side.
It was also then that her origins were exposed—she was actually a daughter of the Harrington family, and her mother had left her founding shares on her deathbed. Unfortunately, her father and two older brothers never acknowledged her: they would rather she did not exist than have her written into the list of heirs.
She still returned to the family. At the family council, her father's veto, her brothers' mockery, and the shareholders' wait-and-see attitude bore down on her all at once. One by one, she laid out the contracts and evidence her mother had left behind, and what she got in return was silence filling the room.
That was when Victor stood by her side. He taught her how to read the books, how to set prices, when to give an inch, and when not to retreat a single step. All winter, the two of them kept watch under a single lamp, prying her mother's shares back from others' hands layer by layer.
On the night before the final document was settled, she obtained a seat on the board.
That same night, Victor disappeared.
His phone was unreachable, his apartment empty, and on the table there was only a half-finished glass of water, and the half of his past he had never been willing to mention.
On the night of their anniversary, through the glass she saw her husband Arthur, their daughter Léonie, and Diana—the socialite with "only five months left"—dining together. She asked for a divorce, and got only one sentence in return: "Play your part as Mrs. Winston."
Every step after that was hard: her accounts were frozen, her studio was forced to hand over its work, and at a competition the restroom door was locked from the outside. But when she was at her most wretched, someone caught her. Victor had originally been just an employer, hiring her to drive his niece Ivy to and from places; he sewed a tracker into her coat and brought people to the scene during a kidnapping. The two of them went from an employment contract to standing side by side.
It was also then that her origins were exposed—she was actually a daughter of the Harrington family, and her mother had left her founding shares on her deathbed. Unfortunately, her father and two older brothers never acknowledged her: they would rather she did not exist than have her written into the list of heirs.
She still returned to the family. At the family council, her father's veto, her brothers' mockery, and the shareholders' wait-and-see attitude bore down on her all at once. One by one, she laid out the contracts and evidence her mother had left behind, and what she got in return was silence filling the room.
That was when Victor stood by her side. He taught her how to read the books, how to set prices, when to give an inch, and when not to retreat a single step. All winter, the two of them kept watch under a single lamp, prying her mother's shares back from others' hands layer by layer.
On the night before the final document was settled, she obtained a seat on the board.
That same night, Victor disappeared.
His phone was unreachable, his apartment empty, and on the table there was only a half-finished glass of water, and the half of his past he had never been willing to mention.
















































