By the time Brianna headed to the company's garage, her mind was on different possibilities of what would seem urgent to her mother in-law.
Since she couldn't remember where she'd parked, because the garage was crowded, she pressed her key fob.
A chirp sounded from the far corner.
As Brianna approached, she saw a group of employees huddled together, with their phone's camera shutter clicking. She stopped in her tracks.
"It's her!" One of them said, making the other's scramble away when they saw Brianna.
Brianna looked at their retreating figures, before turning to her Bentley.
She took in the wreck. All her windows had been shattered, her four tires flattened, and there was a freshly sprayed paint on the body.
Brianna stared at the words with an unreadable expression.
BARREN GLORIFIED MAID.
Reyna Sue.
Only someone with that level of petty, small-minded malice would think a performance on her car was revenge.
Brianna simply pulled out her own phone, took a single, high-resolution photo of the vandalism, and sent it to her lawyer for cost.
Her lawyer gave a reply almost immediately and she forwarded the message to Reyna. She'd need more than her children's schoolfees to repay her debt.
Brianna hailed a taxi to the Colburn's estate.
On arrival, the housekeeper greeted her warmly before leading her to the rear gardens, which was crowded by workers moving in and out.
Brianna found Senior Mrs. Colburn in a deep conversation with another woman. And when she saw her, "Brianna, darling, come here," the older woman waved. "This is Helen Alt. Your hair stylist."
The stylist stretched her hand out professionally towards Brianna. "It's Elen."
Even when corrected, Senior Mrs. Colburn maintained the wrong name. "Right. Helen here will be overseeing your transformation."
Brianna's brow arched. "Transformation? I wasn't aware I was a project in need of a renovation."
The older woman was suddenly on her feet, shrieking at a group of laborers near her roses. "Marcus! Away from the rose chamber! Those are rare~touch anything else, but leave those alone!"
When she turned back to Brianna, her face shifted to sudden calmness. "Where was I?"
"You were explaining why you've called a stylist for me."
Senior Mrs. Colburn's eyes darted back to her garden, too unfocused to listen. "Brianna, Helen will explain the details." Then she rushed to her garden. "Oh my! My roses... they've been plucked! Which of you here did this?!"
The housekeeper rushed to her madam. "Young Master Keenan took a few this morning, Ma'am."
"On what account?!"
Brianna felt a cold prickle at the back of her neck. Those roses earlier... were from... She ran a hand over her face, her fingers lingering on her neck. She had unknowingly discarded the "rare" treasures.
Elen began circling her like she was a mannequin. "Your hair... it's too much. Full. Long. We should trim it. Have you considered a perm to reduce the volume?"
"What?"
"Perm?"
"No." Brianna touched her hair preciously. "Why am I getting a transformation?"
A crazy thought came to her mind. "Does Senior Mrs. Colburn intend to ship me to another country?"
"No, Mrs. Colburn. It's for your wedding." Elen sounded like a programmed machine.
Brianna narrowed her eyes. "Wedding? I'm getting married?"
The words felt absurd in her mouth. She knew they had the conversation yesterday, but she hadn't expected the woman to move this fast, especially without her approval.
Elen tilted her head. Didn't Mrs. Colburn know she was getting married?
Brianna wanted to talk to Senior Mrs. Colburn, but when she saw Keenan walk in, she turned back to Elen.
As the saying goes, "The narrow path is always met by those one wishes to avoid." Though she stood in the open, she acted as if a screen had been drawn between them.
"Does that mean we should get started?"
Brianna met Elen's bright demolishing eyes on her hair.
A sigh escaped her lips. "So, this family is actually going through with it. They're really handing me over to that child."
"Mr. Colburn is legally of age," Elen replied mechanically. "And yes. He is the groom."
Brianna watched Elen reach for her shears. "The hair is too heavy. It distracts from the neck. We'll take it to the shoulder."
"I'm here for a discussion, not a haircut. Put the scissors down."
"Mrs. Colburn was quite clear—"
"I don't care what she was clear about."
Before Elen could respond, a man came to Brianna with a measuring tape. "I'm Julian. Your designer."
"Measurements come first," he muttered, more to himself than to them. "Step up, please."
Brianna stood on the raised wooden platform the designer pointed at.
He was a professional bent "male" designer, but the places he "measured" made Brianna feel uncomfortable.
As Julian's hands moved near her cleavage, the shadow of a figure blocked the sun.
"Did you like the roses?"
Brianna found it ridiculous that Keenan would deepen his voice to sound manly.
Still, she stared straight ahead. "I find that measurements tend to get inappropriate, Keenan. Do you mind?"
Keenan stepped closer, removing the designer's hand from her body. "Since we are getting married, it's highly unlikely I won't see you bare soon anyway. Why the modesty now?"
This little brat.
A bright digital screen was thrusted into Brianna's face, taking her attention from Keenan.
"The Senior Mrs. Colburn suggests 'Champagne Gold,' but I feel a 'Funeral Mauve' is too on the nose, don't you think? Or perhaps a 'Virgin White' to symbolize your new beginning with the Young Master?"
"It's a shame you aren't a virgin, Auntie." Keenan murmured.
The garden went deadly quiet. Everyone turned to Keenan with a glare.
Brianna felt a deep, soul-weary disgust. She looked at the boy~because that's what he was~and then stepped off the platform, ignoring Julian's protest.
She walked straight to Senior Mrs. Colburn.
"I'm not doing this."
The older woman was stunned. "Is the transformation finished already? Helen, I told you—"
"It's Elen!" the stylist wailed from the background.
"I don't want a transformation," Brianna stated, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "I don't want a 'Rose Chamber' wedding. I don't want guests, and I certainly don't want a 'Virgin White' dress... Since someone just pointed that out for me."
Senior Mrs. Colburn arched a perfectly groomed brow. "Then what do you want?
"If I'm getting married to..." She turned to Keenan, her eyes filled with disdain. "Then we should just get a certificate from the civil affairs."
"That's fine by me."