“Just wait a little longer, please,” Xenia pleaded, desperate not to destroy what little chance she had left. After the embarrassing incident with Herbert, she couldn't risk another public display of arrogance on Farley territory.
So they waited. And waited. Half an hour crawled by.
Darleen, who had grown restless after just ten minutes, was now seething. “Hasn’t the person you sent returned yet?” she snapped at another guard.
“Not yet, ma’am. You’ll have to wait a little longer,” the guard replied respectfully.
But his politeness did little to soothe their frayed nerves. They were accustomed to luxury and privilege, not standing outside a gate like common petitioners. It was humiliating, and every passing second felt like an eternity.
Finally, after a full hour, Darleen’s patience snapped.
“Let’s go. Clearly, they’re not interested in our important news. Let them wait until that bitch brings ruin to their family!” she fumed, convinced the Farleys were deliberately snubbing them.
Just as she was about to pull her arm from Xenia's grasp and storm off, Xenia gasped, “He’s back! He’s back!”
The guard who had gone to announce them was jogging toward the gate.
Xenia rushed forward. “Well? Can we go in now?”
“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Yelchin,” the guard said, his expression impassive. “The masters of the house are not at home. You won’t be able to see anyone today.”
“What?” Darleen exploded. “Not home? You made me wait an hour to tell me they’re not home?”



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