Chapter 111: Spoiled trophy

"Elara... Ela!"

Elara heard her father’s voice call sharply from behind.

She dragged her eyes from the show she was watching and turned her head just in time to see him storm into the living room, his face tight with anger.

"What is it, Dad?" she asked lazily.

"Have you not been hearing me scream your name?" he barked.

"I just answered you. So what’s the problem? And really, why do you have to scream like I live in another building? We’re in the same house," she added, flat.

She already knew—whenever he called her like that, he had something ridiculous to say. She braced herself for whatever nonsense it was this time.

"Your mother just told me you’re planning to resume work at some shabby restaurant. Is that true?"

Elara gave a dramatic gasp.

"You mean Mom spoke to you... from her grave?"

Her father’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t play with me, kid."

She pouted.

He hated when she did that. Especially when he referred to Susanna as her mother. But that woman would never be her mother—not in this life or the next.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"First of all, Dad, it’s not a shabby restaurant. It’s going to be one of the biggest in Nova City once it launches. And I’m going to be the manager. I don’t see anything wrong with that."

"Everything is wrong with it, Elara!" he thundered.

"Ela, you should listen to your father. The Vaughn’s heiress shouldn’t be seen working in an ordinary restaurant," came Susanna’s voice, cutting in as she appeared from the hallway—clearly, she’d been eavesdropping from the start.

Elara’s fists clenched at her sides as she rose to her feet.

"Maybe if your son hadn’t stolen my position at the company, I wouldn’t be going to work in an ordinary restaurant," she snapped, glaring at Susanna, whose face flushed in anger.

"Your brother didn’t steal your position. It’s his right... as the only son of this family," Susanna shot back, stepping beside Sebastian like some loyal soldier.

That was it then. She wasn’t a son, so she could rot.

Disgusted, Elara gave them both one last look and turned to leave for her room. But her father’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Where do you think you’re going? We’re still talking to you!"

She wished he could show that same fire when it came to Susanna—instead of bending like a leaf in the wind every time the woman opened her mouth.

"I’m going to my room, Dad. To get some rest. I have a big day tomorrow," she said over her shoulder, tone cool.

"I said you’re not going. My daughter will not work in a restaurant," he said, voice hard.

"So what should I do? Just stay home and rot? Drive around the city like some spoiled trophy? All my friends are doing something with their lives, Dad. It’s embarrassing being the only one with no purpose." Her voice cracked with frustration.

"You don’t have to be like your friends, Elara. I’m sure they’re not heiresses. Of course they have to work to survive," Susanna interjected, cutting her off again.

Elara gritted her teeth. She almost reminded the old bat that Ashley was an heiress too, but stopped herself. Not worth the energy.

"Like your mother said, you’re not like your friends, sweetheart," Sebastian added.

Elara’s blood boiled at that word—mother. How many times would she have to say it? Susanna was not her mother and never would be.

"You’re not idle either," he continued. "You’re preparing to be Wesley’s wife."

What nonsense.

"I. Do. Not. Want to be Wesley’s wife, Dad!" she screamed.

"I’m doing what’s best for you, Ela. Wesley is a good man. If you marry him, our companies will merge, and he’ll take good care of you. I don’t know how many times I have to explain that. And I don’t understand why you keep rejecting every man I’ve brought to you."

"Because I don’t love any of them, Dad. I don’t. It’s not that hard to understand," Elara shot back, running a hand through her hair.

Sebastian clicked his tongue, irritated by her tone. "You’ll love Wesley," he said tightly. "And for now, you’ll be helping your brother at the company. Not working in some ordinary restaurant," he added, voice firm with finality.

"I’ll be dead before I do any of those things, Dad," she snapped, turning to storm away.

"I’ll have all your money, and even your car seized if you don’t!" Sebastian shouted after her, frustrated by her growing defiance. She’d always been strong-willed, but she usually gave in eventually. What was wrong with her lately?

When Elara heard that, she saw red.

"You wouldn’t dare, Dad. I worked for every dime I have. And I bought that car myself. You are not seizing it," she said, her voice sharp with fury, before stepping into her room and slamming the door so hard the couple outside flinched.

Inside, Elara dropped onto her bed, her eyes stinging.

She remembered the time when she used to be her father’s whole world. When he braided her hair and called her Pumpkin. When he protected her from everything. But ever since Mom died, and that organic witch moved in with her fake smile and perfect surgery body, that version of her father had disappeared.

But she was done. Done being controlled. Done living for someone else’s plan. Just like Molita said, it was time to stand up for herself.

In two days, she was going to work for Ashley—and nothing was going to stop her.

She sniffed back her tears, unlocked her phone, and scrolled aimlessly through Instagram. Bored, she decided to find a new kind of distraction.

Opening a burner account she’d made ages ago, she searched for Gregory Montgomery. She’d learned his real name after visiting his hospital ward a few times with Ashley.

Her lips curled when she found him. She tapped follow, then smirked.

He didn’t look like the type to be on social media. But still.

"Hello, sexy," she typed and sent with a devilish grin.

Who knows? He might surprise her.

When the message ticked two good, her eyes widened slightly. He was online.

Her fingers danced across the screen again.

"Need any help sleeping?"

She chuckled, sending it off. Her earlier anger already dissolving into playful anticipation as she waited to see if he’d respond.

**********

Lorenzo turned, cursing internally as his eyes landed on his mother.

"Mom," he called with a frown.

"Son," she answered with a knowing smile, standing up. "I don’t need to ask if this is my daughter-in-law," she said suggestively—and Ashley wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Of all the times to meet Lorenzo’s mother, it had to be when she was getting thoroughly ravished by her son. Her luck truly was the worst.

"Come, darling. I don’t bite," Margaret added, walking over and pulling Ashley into a hug. Ashley and Lorenzo exchanged a quick look, and she silently begged him to save her.

Margaret pulled back to study her. "I’ve always known my son’s not blind. You’re so beautiful," she gushed.

Lorenzo smirked in response making her silently curse at him.

"Thanks, ma’am," she whispered, cheeks burning.

"You can call me Margaret," his mom said, gently touching Ashley’s cheek before letting her go completely.

"Mom, why didn’t you say you were coming? We would’ve at least prepared for you," Lorenzo said, a little frustrated. For the second time that day, he’d been interrupted before he could finish what he started with Ashley. He’d completely forgotten his mother had the access code to his house, and in that moment he regretted ever giving it to her.

"You’re the one who refused to bring her to visit me," Margaret replied with a mock frown. "Now I’m here, and you’re still complaining."

Ashley pressed her lips together to hide a smile. She was the one who had told Lorenzo she wasn’t ready to meet his mom. Now guilt stirred in her chest.

"Mom, we were going to come eventually. I’ve just been really swamped with work," Lorenzo said, lying through his teeth.

"But I’m free—and I came to see her myself," Margaret said cheerfully, casting another glance at Ashley again. "Or... are you just mad I interrupted something?" she asked, wiggling her brows.

Both of them cringed, and Ashley’s skin burned with more embarrassment.

"Please make yourself comfortable, ma. I’ll go change and come back to prepare something for you," she said shyly, hoping to divert the conversation.

"Oh, such a sweet thing," Margaret cooed, making Ashley’s blush deepen. "But I’m not here to stress you, dear. I can see you both just got back from work, so go freshen up and then come see what I brought from home. That should do for dinner."

Ashley smiled and nodded. If she’d known Lorenzo’s mother was this lovely, she might not have been so afraid to meet her. Then again, it was probably better she hadn’t. Back then, she would’ve felt awful lying about their relationship.

"Thank you, Mom," Lorenzo said, leaning in to kiss her cheek after hearing she brought food.

But Margaret shoved him playfully. "Don’t even talk to me."

"But Mom—"

She raised her hand, turning away. "No but."

Ashley laughed.

"Don’t mind her—she’s always dramatic," Lorenzo said to Ashley, and without warning, hoisted her over his shoulder and headed for the stairs.

She gasped. "Hey! Your mom—"

"I can’t see anything!" Margaret sang, cutting her off.

Ashley laughed again, hiding her face with both palms.

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