She had nothing left. Even the Yelchin family no longer had a place for her. Even if Starla were to leave, Brinley knew Darleen wouldn't let her stay.
Suddenly, she had lost everything.
“Let’s… talk,” Brinley managed to force out, her lips trembling violently. It was pathetic, utterly humiliating, that she was now forced to speak to Starla in such a tone.
Who did Starla think she was? The Yelchins had always looked down on her—yet now she had Brinley pinned to the floor.
“Just wait,” Brinley thought. “The moment I get back on my feet, the first person I’ll deal with is you, Starla. I’ll make you wish you were dead.”
Starla raised an eyebrow. “What is there for us to talk about? Can you offer me the entire Yelchin family?”
That was Starla’s new refrain—everything she said revolved around taking the whole Yelchin empire. And Brinley, of course, had no power to make such a promise. Starla's message was clear: if you couldn't deliver that, you weren't even qualified to speak with her.
Brinley felt a fresh wave of humiliation, but she forced herself to endure it. This was not the time for a direct confrontation. She had to hold back.
“I can’t,” Brinley admitted.
“Then what do you want to talk about?” Starla’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Before Brinley could answer, she continued, “You used to act like the grand mistress of this family. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought you were in charge, that your word was law.”

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