Dinner time in the Norton mansion had always followed a clear pattern. The family of three always had their meals together while I had to wait on them and serve them alongside the maids.
When there was a guest, I might be allowed to sit at the table, a privilege that always felt like a hypocritical display of unity.
On rare occasions, when Blake and Jack Norton, the twins doubling as my younger brothers, were home, they would insist I eat with them. Those were the only moments that ever felt a little different because of them.
But at other times, I had my meal together with the other servants in the kitchen.
Over the years, I had learned to accept it, perhaps even prefer it. At least there, I didn't have to pretend to be the young lady of grace, elegance and refinement they so hypocritically demanded I emulate.
I had undoubtedly shared happy mealtimes with the few maids I had a close relationship with.
Stepping out of the bathroom, my almost worn-out towel tied around my chest, I opened my wardrobe. As always, there were just a few dresses hanging inside. I sighed softly.
My hand slowly traced through the clothes until it stopped at a black off-shoulder, body-hug dress.
Tonight, with the whole Norton family present, hoping to see a broken and shattered lady, I had one mission—to burst their bubbles, shatter their imaginations and destroy their fantasies.
To let them witness my glamorous self, a memento for them, and a reminder of the future me before I finally leave their family.
I wasn't sure when he would be coming to get me like he said, or whatever the situation might turn out to be in the course of my revenge, but I was certain I would make them not forget me easily.
I slipped into the dress, it was just a simple off-shoulder black casual gown with no attachments. It featured a clean, elegant design.
Sitting gracefully below my shoulders, its smooth fitted bodice hugged my body and flowed naturally from my knee to the hem.
With no embellishments, its plain black fabric gave it a timeless, effortlessly chic look, carefully but not overly, it contrasted with my fair skin, both complementing each other.
I chuckled at its elegance. It was a gown carefully selected a few months back by my mother, as I had to pay a visit to George's family.
My hand reached over my shoulder to zip it up. I was exceptionally happy with the person standing before the mirror—slender and curvy, and maybe even seductive. My lips curled up in contentment.
Rummaging through my small dressing table, I carefully picked a bright red lip gloss and applied it.
My lips were now fuller and exceptionally inviting. I felt happy at the woman staring back at me.
My ears picked up the sound of a car coming from the distance; my hand paused lightly, then resumed my preparations. No doubt it must have been Bruce coming.
I went over to the window, yet there was no car in sight.
I found it strange that since I woke up this morning, I could hear sounds others might not necessarily hear.
Just like when I was in the kitchen, I heard the pulse of the maids, and now the sound of the car still in the distance. I rubbed my temple.
Was I imagining things?
Or am I hallucinating?
But I was only met with the deafening silence of the room. I sighed as I resumed my preparations.
With my makeup done, I ran my fingers through my hair, letting the soft waves fall freely down my back before I held it loosely with a hair band. I sighed with relief.
"Stella, you are set for dinner," I muttered to myself.
Just as I turned around from the mirror, the maid knocked at my door.
"Come in," I answered.
The door was pushed open, and Rita stepped into the room. Her gaze swept around my room, and she sighed.
I didn't need to ask why. She had always screamed about the injustice of Phina living in a well-furnished princess bedroom while mine was just like any other servant's.
"What is the problem?" I asked calmly, my brow raised, not giving her a chance to mourn my pain as usual.
"Bruce just arrived," she said, her gaze trained on me unflinching, tracing every inch of my body. Her face screamed unconcealed admiration.
"Okay, I will soon be out," I said. She nodded and turned back to leave, but a thought flashed through my mind.
"You should set out the table while I bring over the meal myself," I instructed before she opened the door.
Rita nodded but paused briefly at the door. "You look beautiful tonight, Stella," she commented, and the door shut behind her.
I smiled faintly. "Thank you." I muttered even though she had fled the room. My gaze narrowed briefly.
It seemed I noticed her ears turning red.
"Was she shy?"
But she is almost the same age as me. I shrugged.
With Rita's approval, my confidence soared. Gracefully, I left my room and made my way to the living room.
At the door, I stopped, my gaze scanning the faces of the people seated in the living room. My lips curled up at the sight of the perfect family lounging lazily in the living room.
"Dinner is ready," I announced.
Bruce's head snapped in my direction, his gaze piercing, waves of emotion coursing through his pupils—surprise, shock, admiration, and something else I couldn't quite place.
But I didn't care. That was the effect I wanted, and with the stage set, I was ready to complete the rest.
The room grew tense, every gaze turning between him and me.
His racing heart thudded so loud in my ears that I wanted to laugh.
With everyone noting his lingering gaze on me, the atmosphere turned awkward.
My father coughed lightly to call back their attention.
"Let's go over for dinner," he said softly, but his cold gaze shot out to me like an arrow. My sister's fist clenched tightly on her lap. Her eyes spewed daggers.
My mother, as usual, maintained her silence. I couldn't help but wonder if she was under blackmail or facing any form of oppression.
For the others, my lips curled up at their countenance. With a slow, deliberate twirl, I turned around and went back to the kitchen to serve the meal.
Even as I left, I could still feel his gaze on my back.
In the kitchen, I took a deep, calming breath before I began arranging the dishes on the tray with Rita when Phina pushed the kitchen door open and entered.
Her gaze was cold, her chest heaving with fury, her fist clenched tightly. "Stella, what was that you just did there?" she growled.
My brow furrowed with confusion. "I came to ask everyone to come over for dinner," I answered innocently.
Doesn't she like playing the white lotus?
Why was she furious?
"Was that how to ask people over for dinner?" she asked in suppressed fury.
"Is there a wrong way to invite people to eat?" I countered coolly.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. "Don't act innocent with me."
"Sister, I don't know why are so angry but I haven't done anything other than this," I answered, meeting her gaze, a cold smirk on my lips.
How satisfying it was seeing her so angry and furious.
You think you've done nothing wrong?" she demanded, closing the gap between us.
"I'm sure of it," I said smoothly, lifting my chin.
"Stella," she warned, voice dropping. "Don't provoke me."
"Provoke you? In what way, dear sister?" I asked, my tone deceptively sweet.
Her voice dropped to a cold whisper. "Stop seducing Bruce."
I burst into laughter. "Seducing Bruce?" I repeated, tilting my head. "That's a funny choice of words."
She trembled with anger, her fingers curling into fists, her chest heaved with wrath; her face twisted with fury.
I stepped closer, close enough to feel her breath. "Dear sister," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. Despite her being my elder sister, I still had an amazing height advantage over her.
"Isn't he the same man who abandoned me for you? Why do you suddenly feel threatened?"
"Stella," she called through gritted teeth. "Don't push my buttons."
"Oh, but sister," I said with a sly smile, stepping back, "you accuse me too soon. I haven't done anything yet."
Her brows furrowed. "Yet? What do you mean?" She queried, confused.
"Literally," I replied, smirking.
Her voice trembled with disdain. "Stella, I know you don't like the idea of Bruce leaving you for me, but can you not force his heart on you? You lost before and definitely would still lose again."
"Phina," I whispered, my voice sharp and cold, that I felt her shiver lightly , "I don't pick up trash like you do."
Her hand shot up to give me a slap, but I held her hand in the air, gripping her wrist tightly.
"I'm being merciful," I said coldly. "Don't force my hand."
Her pulse throbbed so loud in my ears that I wished to leave her presence before she lost it all.
I stepped back and picked up the trays I had arranged on the table. "Out of the way, Princess. The kitchen isn't good for you," I taunted as I brushed past her with the tray of dishes balanced in my hand.
The next moment, I felt a biting coldness crawling up behind me. Instinctively, I stepped out of the way.
Thud!
And a piercing scream tore through the hallway, leaving me and Rita frozen on the spot.
Slowly, I turned around to find her sprawled on the floor, clutching her ankle, her expression twisted in pain.
Within seconds, footsteps thundered in, the family rushing to the scene.
I looked down at her, my voice soft, my expression perfectly composed, though my lips curled almost imperceptibly.
"Sister, how did you fall?"