Making his way through the crowd, he found Velora in the courtyard, where she'd spread a canvas across the flagstones.
She was using a cat toy to guide a small black cat—its paws stained with acrylic paint—in an intricate dance across the surface. Each leap left a constellation of chaotic prints.
The scene struck a chord. Ms. Berthe Morisot had used the same technique just last night. The similarity was… interesting.
Satisfied with the pattern of prints, Velora scooped up the cat by its scruff and tossed it casually to Ace, who stood watching in a crisp white dress shirt.
"Keep it contained," she said. "No escape artists."
Ace caught the startled cat despite a split-second hesitation at those paint-stained paws. The cat, predictably, went into full panic mode, leaving perfect paw prints all over his immaculate shirt.
The staff gasped collectively. Everyone knew Ace's fastidious nature. While not quite reaching his second brother's germaphobic levels, he insisted on pristine clothing.
Previously, a new maid had accidentally splashed water on him while tending the garden—he immediately changed his clothes, and the maid hadn't returned the next day.
The message was clear: that warm smile masked a core of steel. Even the pampered Leila had to tread carefully around him, knowing that crossing his rules would reveal a heart colder and harder than anyone else's.
Yet here was newly-returning Miss Carson, casually demolishing his perfect appearance.
"What?" Velora caught their frozen expressions. "Something wrong?"
The staff traded nervous glances, wondering if they should warn her.
But Ace just smiled, adjusting his grip on the squirming cat. "Eyes on your art, Velora."
"Oh." She caught sight of his ruined shirt and winced, realizing she probably shouldn't have handed the cat directly to him.
"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to get your shirt dirty."
At least she was quick to own her mistakes.
"Just a shirt," he said with unexpected lightness. "It'll wash."
The staff's eyes threatened to escape their sockets. This was not the Ace they knew. Clearly, Velora held some special status. Mental notes were rapidly updated.
From his position at the back, Darrell watched this exchange with growing curiosity. Has Ace truly accepted this girl? he wondered.
Upstairs, Leila hobbled along the wall, her injured leg protesting each step. The missing staff had left her to fend for herself, stoking her fury with each painful inch forward.
"Leila!" Susan rushed to support her daughter. "Why are you alone? Where is everyone?"
Leila's voice dripped venom. "No one has shown up for ages. I'm going to tell Dad to fire them all!"
"Hush. Think of the gossip," Susan cautioned. If all the servants got fired, word would definitely get out, and Leila would end up with a reputation for being spoiled and demanding. That would be terrible.
At that moment, a burst of exclamations drifted up from below.
"What happened?" Leila's frown deepened.
Something twisted in Susan's gut. "Let's see."
They found Velora putting final touches on her work. The crowd watched, mesmerized, as each cat print transformed into a delicate rose blossom.
"Miss Velora Carson is incredible!"
"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd swear someone switched the painting!"
"Who knew Miss Velora Carson could paint like that!"
Though Ace and Darrell had witnessed her work at the auction, distance had hidden its true mastery. Up close, her skill was breathtaking. The imagination required to see beauty in random paw prints—the technique needed to reveal it.
Darrell studied Velora with new intensity as an impossible thought took root. Could she be Berthe Morisot? He suddenly realized that Velora's figure resembled that of Ms. Morisot from the previous night.
"Don't you have jobs to do?" Leila's sharp voice cut through the crowd's wonder. She pushed forward on her mother's arm, then froze at the sight before her.
"What is this?"
"Miss Velora Carson's painting," a maid explained.
"Who wastes dawn on painting? Get moving!" But her eyes remained locked on the artwork as panic bloomed in her chest. She was shocked to find that Velora had created this. Even with her limited knowledge of painting, Leila recognized mastery when she saw it. This might even surpass yesterday's garden landscape—which meant Velora might win their father's approval.
"Dad…" Leila's eyes darted to Darrell and found him watching Velora with an expression that made her blood run cold.
No. That little upstart couldn't steal Dad's love, she decided inwardly. The painting had to go.
"Velora." Leila's voice dripped honey as she limped closer. "What's so fascinating about dawn painting? This isn't a circus. Let me see what you've done?"
She moved toward the painting, preparing her "accidental" stumble.
"Oh no!" She began to fall, attempting to destroy the painting.
But Velora moved like lightning, shoving her clear. "Don't touch my work!"
Leila's legs gave out, and with a push from Velora, she crashed onto the flagstones, landing hard on her bottom. Pain exploded through her, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes.
Her scream shattered the morning peace. "Ah! It hurts!"
"Leila!" Susan gasped, rushing over to help her daughter up.
Leila sat on the floor, wailing as she clutched her backside.
"Mom, my butt hurts so bad I think it's broken!"
Velora rolled her eyes at the dramatic display. All this over a little fall, she said inwardly.
She'd been on missions where bullets ripped through her shoulder, bone cracking, blood everywhere—and she didn't cry half as much as Leila was now.
"Are you serious?" she scoffed. "It's a floor, not a meat grinder. Your butt's not about to shatter."
"You!" Leila's eyes narrowed. Not only was Velora not apologizing, but she also had the nerve to make fun of her.
Furious, she turned to Darell, crying.
"Dad, look at Velora! She pushed me and now she's mocking me!"
Darell's frown deepened as he looked at Velora.
"Apologize to your sister."
"Why should—"
Velora was sure Darell hadn't seen through Leila's act. She explained,
"She tried to step on my painting. The paper's delicate; one step and it would've been ruined. I only pushed her to save it!"
Leila instantly put on her best pitiful look, tearfully turning to Darell.
"Dad, I was just off balance because my leg hurt. I didn't mean to step on it. Velora's blaming me for no reason…"
Velora sighed, exasperated.
"Why do you cry so much? It's like you're a faucet that won't turn off."
"Velora!" Leila exclaimed, her voice sharp with irritation.
"Are you trying to pick a fight? You love arguing, don't you?"
"Well, well, look who's full of pep!" Ace teased.
"Guess that injury isn't so bad after all, huh?"
"Ace…" Leila shot him a wounded look. 'How could he side with Velora after what she has done?' she wondered.
Ace didn't even acknowledge Leila's pain, his cold gaze sweeping past her.
Darell ignored Ace's joke and focused on Velora.
"Whether Leila did it on purpose or not, you shouldn't have pushed her. Don't forget—her leg was injured because of you. Tailbones are fragile; what if she got seriously hurt? When you make a mistake, you apologize, not make excuses."
Leila threw Velora a triumphant look.
"Hear that, Velora? Apologize!"
Velora didn't say a word. She just looked at Darell—all cold and judgmental—and at Leila, acting like she owned the place.
Why was she even here? Dealing with these losers was giving her a headache.
She could easily take them all on, but where was the fun in that?
"That's it. I'm done!" The words burst out of her.
"What did you say?" Darell's eyebrow shot up.
Velora lifted her chin defiantly, meeting his gaze.
"Doesn't matter if I'm right or wrong—you always pick on me. I get it. You all hate me. Fine! I don't want to be here anymore. Forget about the painting. From now on, we're through. Goodbye!"
She spun around and headed for the door.
"Velora!" Ace called after her, but she kept going. Exasperated, he turned to Darell.
"Dad, are you happy now?"
Darell's face was stony.
"What? You think Velora pushing someone is okay? And since when does a daughter speak to her father like that? She's disrespectful and rude. I'm her father—there's nothing wrong with teaching her a lesson."
A cynical smile played on Ace's lips.
"Splendid," he drawled, his tone laced with thinly veiled contempt.
With that, he turned and left to follow Velora.
Silence fell over the house.
Leila was thrilled. With Velora gone, her bruised pride—and bruised tailbone—felt a bit better. But she didn't forget to put on a pitiful face for Darell.
"Dad… Ace won't take this out on me, will he? He's so soft on Velora. Now that she's gone, he'll probably be mad at me."
Darell studied her for a moment. Then he said,
"Why did you try to step on Velora's painting?"
Leila's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing.
Wait! Dad knew I did it on purpose?
"Dad, what are you talking about? I didn't mean…" She struggled.
Darell interrupted.
"I'm not blind."
Leila's face paled.
Susan, sensing danger, nudged her.
"Leila, tell the truth. Don't think you can hide anything from your father."