His Father Bought Me Chapter 12: Sold, Replaced

"No, he didn’t drown you. He saved us!" Another voice answered before Henry could muster a reply.

Both Henry and Estelle paused at the voice.

The click of heels echoed against the office floor as Victoria entered like she owned the air itself, the scent of expensive perfu sliding in before her. Her coat was perfectly tailored, and not a strand of hair was out of place.

Estelle turned slowly, and instead of her mother, all she could see was her executioner. She turned back to Henry.

"Father," she whispered, desperation breaking through despite her pride. "You are nothing like her. Please, you can still fix this. You always said you would be there for , now, I need your help."

Henry’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he bowed his head, and that silence hurt more than any insult.

Victoria let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Did you truly think I negotiated that deal alone?" she asked lightly. "In whose na do you think the check was written?"

The room spun around Estelle. Her grip slipped on her wheels. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

"You knew too?" she breathed, staring at Henry, her eyes demanding. "You signed it?"

He didn’t look at her, didn’t deny it.

"We did what any parent would do. You were no longer a profitable asset," Victoria said simply.

Each word landed painfully.

Estelle’s throat tightened. "So you sold ."

"We diversified," Victoria corrected. "The Rutledge na still has value, we simply reallocated resources to more rewarding channels."

Estelle could not believe her ears.

Victoria pulled a folded docunt from her purse. "Your trust fund has been transferred to cover operational costs. The insurance payout went to new equipnt." She paused, smiling coldly at Estelle. "And tomorrow, we’re announcing your retirent. The headline will be Permanent Disability, the tragic end of Estelle Rutledge."

She laid the press release on the desk, and Estelle’s own face stared back at her. The headline had already been written.

Rutledge Star Career Ends in Devastating Fall. A New Star Erges.

"We’re holding a morial skate in your honor next month," Victoria added before Estelle could finish processing the words before her. "Serena will perform your final routine, the one you never got to finish."

The air stopped in Estelle’s lungs. They weren’t just replacing her... they were burying her. Her eyes burned as she stared at her father. He adjusted his glasses, looking at the ledger... anywhere but at her face.

"You sold ," she whispered, looking at him.

"We secured the rink," Victoria corrected.

Estelle’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

"You should move on, Estelle," Victoria continued. "There is no place for you here anymore. We already have a new star... a duo, sothing you refused for years. You were always too proud to share the spotlight, and now it’s gone."

Estelle’s mouth parted, but no sound ca out.

Victoria didn’t even give her a chance to muster any words before she continued. "You are no longer part of this family... or this rink," she paused, letting the words settle. "So leave, and do not return."

The words slamd into Estelle’s chest like a sledgehamr.

Victoria tilted her head slightly. "Who knows," she added with a faint smile. "Perhaps one day we will see you again... that is, if you ever skate again. And even then, it will not be under our banner. You are an outsider now."

An outsider? Before Estelle could process the devastation, Henry stood. The scrape of his chair legs against the floor was deafening. Then, he walked to the door, opened it, and held it there.

"You should leave, Estelle," he said quietly. "Go ho... to your husband."

Estelle’s mind churned wildly. Ho... Husband... Or the cage they had locked her into.

Henry still didn’t look at her.

Sothing inside her chest cracked wide open, and heat flooded her eyes, blurring the edges of her vision. But she would not cry. Not here, not in front of them. Slowly, she turned her chair, and each push toward the door felt harder than the last.

The hallway outside was colder now, colder than she rembered. But she moved forward, even though the familiar scent of ice was no longer comforting. It felt foreign now, hostile.

As she passed the rink entrance, music drifted across the ice, and applause followed. Her stomach tightened. She turned her head just slightly to catch a glimpse.

On the ice, a pair skated in perfect unison, effortless lifts, sharp, synchronized spins. Then she saw them, and her hands felt stuck on the wheels.

Serena hovered mid-air, weightless and perfect, and Justin’s hands were firm at her waist as he held her aloft. Her laughter rang across the rink, slicing through Estelle like a silver blade. Her heart slamd once, twice, painfully as she got a clearer view of the pair.

Serena wore her costu. White silk, crystal-beaded along the bodice, the skirt feather-light so it flared like frost when she spun. Estelle had designed it herself for Nationals, for her final shot at gold. And at the boards, Susan stood, arms folded, whistle dangling from her neck.

Her eyes swept across the rink and landed on Estelle. She held her gaze for three seconds, just enough ti for Estelle to see the guilt in her gaze before she turned.

"You’re doing well," Susan called, her voice carrying across the ice. "Justin, lift her higher. No distractions, eyes on your partner."

The words echoed harshly in Estelle’s chest. His partner? He only has one... .

Justin’s jaw tightened, but he lifted Serena higher. Estelle’s breath turned shallow as she watched. It had only been hours, and she had already been replaced. No, she had been erased.

"No," she whispered. The tears she had been strangling finally burned hot along her lower lashes.

Behind her, heels clicked softly, and Victoria stepped up, her reflection faint in the rink glass. "I see you’ve t our new stars," she said lightly. "They look perfect together, don’t they?"