Chapter 6
1129 Words
Hazel’s POV
"But," Andrew continued, "there's one catch. He wants you to take care of the flowers in the garden."
The request felt off, and the discount was so generous that it made me wary.
"Hazel..." Sienna's voice dropped to a whisper, filled with concern. "Maybe we should keep looking? Twenty percent off could save us thousands a year. But what if something's wrong with the house? Or what if the landlord's some weirdo using low rent to lure people in?"
Sienna made a solid point.
I took a deep breath, feeling uneasy. There was definitely something fishy going on.
"Thanks, Andrew," I said, keeping my voice firm. "We'll think it over and get back to you later."
I was still unsure about where to set up my studio, but I had no idea Bryce had already caught wind of my search for a new place.
He knew I was still angry about the birthday banquet incident.
He couldn't bring himself to apologize, but I later realized he couldn't stand how completely I'd been ignoring him either.
Now that I was looking to expand my studio, it must have seemed like the perfect chance for him to offer me an out—something to smooth things over.
So he'd had Spencer list one of his vacant villas with the real estate company and specifically asked Andrew to show it to me.
What he'd forgotten was that other members of the Ellington family also lived in that exclusive neighborhood.
After I turned down the Malibu Manor offer, Andrew eagerly took me to the villa Bryce had arranged.
This place was even more impressive than Malibu Manor, a standalone house with luxurious decor.
I'd just reached the entrance with Andrew when I ran straight into Bryce's aunt, Claire Ellington.
"Claire," I said, stopping to greet her politely.
Her eyes raked over me from head to toe before finally landing on Andrew behind me.
With a smile that didn't reach her eyes, she asked, "Hazel, what are you doing here?"
Before I could respond, Andrew, looking confused, quickly jumped in. "Ms. Westbrook's here to check out the place. She's looking to rent somewhere for her business."
"Looking at a place?" Claire laughed, something in her tone making my skin crawl. "Oh, you and Bryce are really something." She tilted her head, her voice dripping with mockery. "It's his property, right? If you want it, just ask him directly. Why go through all this with an agent? What's with the theatrics?"
My expression turned cold.
Claire acted like she didn't notice and pressed on with her sarcasm.
"What's this? Weren't you always saying you didn't care about the Ellington family's money? That you just wanted to quietly be Mrs. Ellington?" She tilted her head again, her voice still dripping with mockery. "But now, all of a sudden, you're all about building a career? Or... is it that you realized there's competition at home and now you're scrambling to grab onto something solid?"
If I really chose this place, every move I made from then on would be under the constant scrutiny of the Ellington family.
And no matter how successful my studio became, or how much money I made, to them it would always just be another one of Bryce's handouts.
With that in mind, the strange request to take care of the flowers at Malibu Manor, and the suspiciously generous twenty percent discount, suddenly seemed almost straightforward.
I met Claire's gaze without flinching. "I didn't know this house belonged to Bryce," I said flatly. Without waiting for her response, I turned to Andrew. "We're done here. Let's go with the first place."
I found out later that when Bryce learned I'd turned down his villa without even stepping inside, his face darkened, anger twisting his face as his voice thundered, “Hazel, are you really throwing a tantrum with me on purpose? Trying to embarrass me? You're really asking for trouble.”
For several days, the tension between us only grew, and we fell into an even deeper cold war.
I threw myself into preparing the new studio, keeping myself busy from dawn to dusk.
It wasn't until that afternoon, when Sienna reminded me that I needed my personal seal for the business registration change, that I remembered it was still in my bedroom at Ellington Villa.
So I drove back.
Bryce wasn't home. In the living room, Madison was sitting with Layla, watching cartoons, with snacks and fruit scattered across the coffee table.
When the door opened, Madison turned around. As soon as she saw me, she stood up with a smile that was almost too warm. "Ms. Westbrook, you're here."
Her tone made it sound like she was the lady of the house, and I was just some occasional visitor. I couldn't be bothered to respond to such obvious provocation.
I walked straight upstairs, found my seal in the bedroom desk drawer, and put it in my bag, ready to leave.
Just as I was heading back down the stairs, Madison emerged from the kitchen holding a glass of juice.
"Ms. Westbrook," she said. "Could you do me a favor and take this juice to Layla? She’s thirsty, and I'm in the kitchen making her medicine. It's almost ready, but I really can't leave right now."
I frowned, my voice cold. "Don't you have any servants here?"
"No, it's just Layla and me at home. We don't need servants hovering around all the time." Her tone was sweet but laced with a touch of self-righteousness. "I told them not to come during the day so they wouldn't disturb Layla's rest with all the coming and going."
As soon as she finished speaking, Layla's impatient voice echoed from the living room. "Mom, I'm so thirsty! I want my juice!"
I glanced at the mango juice in Madison's hand, feeling an odd resistance. But hearing Layla's insistent call, I knew if I didn't take the juice, Madison would surely have a lot to say. And I didn't want to waste any more time on something so trivial.
With a sigh, I reached out, grabbed the glass, and walked into the living room, handing it to Layla, who was sitting cross-legged on the sofa.
Then I turned to leave, but just as I reached the door, a loud crash rang out behind me.
The sound of a glass shattering on the floor.
I whipped around, only to see Layla's previously pale face now bright red, her hands desperately clutching her throat, her mouth wide open as if she couldn't breathe.
"What's wrong with you?!" My expression changed instantly as I rushed over to the sofa.
"Oh my God, Layla!"
Suddenly, Madison burst out of the kitchen and shoved me aside with surprising force.
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