The moment the maid announced a visitor, Erin already had a sinking feeling. And sure enough, the doors opened to reveal none other than her—Lillianne Thornwell, wrapped in a soft pink designer coat, high heels clicking like she owned the mansion. Her perfectly styled platinum-blonde hair shimmered under the golden lighting, and her eyes, bright with self-importance, immediately found Xander.
"Xandie!" she squealed, extending her arms for a hug.
Xander didn't move. His face was blank. "Don't call me that," he said flatly, stepping back before she could reach him.
Lillianne's arms froze mid-air. The awkwardness stretched for a beat too long. But then, just as expected, she plastered on her signature fake smile, tilting her head sweetly as if nothing had happened.
"I just missed you, Xander! You've been ignoring my texts and calls, so I thought I'd check if you were alive."
"I'm alive," Xander said, tone colder than steel. "So you can be on your way."
Her smile faltered, but she didn't miss a beat. "Actually," she said with a small pout, "I brought you a little something." She waved her hand and a butler behind her stepped forward with a pristine gift bag.
"Put it there and leave," Xander instructed, gesturing to the console table.
But Lillianne's bottom lip began to tremble. "Xander…" she whispered, her voice cracking just enough to sound convincing to the untrained ear. "Do you really hate me this much? You didn't even call me after what happened. And now I finally come to see you and you're acting like I'm just… some nuisance."
Erin, watching from the stairs, rolled her eyes so hard she thought they might get stuck.
Xander sighed. Loudly. "What do you want?"
"I want to spend the day with you," Lillianne said immediately, the tears disappearing so fast it was almost comical.
Xander clenched his jaw. He wasn't in the mood for her dramatics. Not after the past couple of days. Still, he gave a stiff nod.
Lillianne beamed like she'd just won a gold medal and rushed to grab his hand. "Yay! Let's go to the living room. I want to catch up on everything." Without waiting for permission, she dragged him along.
Erin followed reluctantly, her expression unreadable. She kept her distance, leaning against the wall while Lillianne cozied up next to Xander on the couch as though she hadn't just been iced out moments ago.
"I'm parched," Lillianne announced with a sigh, stretching like a cat. "Could I get something to drink? Perhaps… Erin could bring it? She's a maid after all."
Xander didn't flinch. "She's not that type of maid. She's here to keep an eye on me. That's all."
Lillianne's smile cracked. She was about to complain when—
"I'll do it," Erin said suddenly.
Both heads turned toward her. She said nothing more, just turned and walked to the kitchen with quiet efficiency.
Xander raised a brow, but didn't stop her.
Moments later, Erin returned with a tray and a porcelain cup of herbal tea, steam curling in the air. She walked to Lillianne with careful steps, but just as she reached her, something shifted.
Lillianne's hand shot out with the speed of someone far too practiced in petty sabotage. Her fingers subtly nudged the tray, and the cup tilted—right onto her lap.
The tea wasn't even scalding. Erin made sure of that.
But Lillianne shrieked like she'd been doused in acid.
"Oh my GOD! My dress! You—You did that on purpose! This cost more than your entire year's salary, you peasant!"
The words sliced through the room, but Erin stood stone-still.
"Who are you calling peasant?"
Xander stood up. "Erin," he said, sighing, "just apologize."
"I didn't do it," Erin replied, meeting his eyes. "She did."
Xander looked tired. "Even so. Just apologize and let it go."
"No," she said, voice icy. "I won't apologize for something I didn't do."
She turned on her heel and walked out.
"Erin," Xander called after her, but she didn't respond.
He moved to follow her, but Lillianne quickly grabbed his wrist. "Don't go after her. Please." Her voice dropped into a whisper. "Can't we just… have one day together without drama?"
Xander didn't look back at her. But he didn't shake her off either.
And behind him, Lillianne smirked—triumphant, victorious.
But the war wasn't over.
It was just getting started.
As Erin slammed the door of the room behind her, her breathing was tight with frustration—not from the tea incident, but from the way Xander looked at her before she walked away. She didn't know what irritated her more—Lillianne's theatrics or her own reaction to him not taking her side.
From the hallway, Xander stared at the spot where Erin had stood, brow furrowed.
And downstairs, the gift bag Lillianne brought sat unopened on the console table… completely harmless on the outside, but containing something that might change everything.