AYLA
I strode back to my room with Brenda and Corazon trailing closely behind, their presence as quiet as shadows against the plush carpet. Once we reached my suite, Brenda moved to prepare my favorite chamomile tea, while Corazon knelt at my feet and began her usual foot massage, pressing into the tense muscles with practiced ease. The small luxuries were a welcome relief after dealing with the tedious drama surrounding the mansion.
Brenda returned with the tea tray and handed me the cup. I brought it to my lips, taking a slow sip and savoring the warmth. Brenda seemed thoughtful, her gaze lingering on me as though she had a question.
“Miss Ayla,” she began cautiously, “do you think... Jay might become a problem? If we want Miss Megan out of the mansion, that is?”
I lowered my cup
