Chapter 17
Chapter 12: Territorial Claims–2
Before I could answer, Cassandra, sitting nearby, interjected sharply, “Ugh, the poorer someone is, the more they like heavy, spicy flavors. Miss Winters, that smell is awful. Maybe take it
outside p>
The irony wasn’t lost on me–Ethan was just craving these very dishes moments ago, yet Cassandra now used them as a class insult. I wondered if he would defend me or his own
preferences.
He did neither, sitting in uncomfortable silence as Cassandra continued her tirade against my
“low–class” food choices.
licked my lips provocatively and deliberately stirred the pot. “Miss Evans, it seems you don’t really know Ethan. Why don’t you ask him if he likes spicy food p>
Cassandra looked stunned and turned to Ethan, clearly expecting him to side with her refined palate. His brow twitched, unwilling to expose himself, and he simply picked up some plain
vegetables.
“Forget her, let’s just eat,” he muttered, avoiding both our gazes.
Ignoring their awkwardness, I happily finished my entire spicy feast, humming with satisfaction at each delicious bite. The tension at the table was palpable, but for once, I
wasn’t the one feeling uncomfortable.
After dinner, Cassandra strutted around the living room like she already owned the place. She began nitpicking everything I had once lovingly arranged.
“Ethan, these curtains are ugly,” she declared, running her fingers along the fabric I had carefully selected to complement the room’s color scheme.
She moved to the antique vase I had found at a local market. “That vase clashes horribly with
the decor p>
Her gaze then fell on the fresh flowers I had arranged that morning. She wrinkled her nose and complained, “And those flowers–I’m allergic to pollen, can you toss them out p>
Ethan, seeking to appease her, said perfunctorily, “Change whatever you don’t like p>
His gaze flickered to me, almost as if testing my reaction. “Since you’re allergic, throw them
away p>
I sat quietly, keeping my expression neutral as I watched their little performance. This wasn’t
1/3
< Chapter 12. Territorial Claims…
+25 Puntos
truly my home anymore, so what did it matter if she wanted to redecorate? In a week’s time, I
would be gone, and she could paint the walls neon pink for all I cared.
Cassandra mistook my silence for defeat and smirked triumphantly, feeling she had won this
silent battle. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she continued pointing out everything she
wanted to change.
Ethan called out to Martha, instructing her coldly, “Get rid of these flowers p>
Martha hesitated, her loyalty to me evident in her reluctance. She whispered, “But sir, Miss
Winters bought those p>
His face darkened at her defiance. “So what? Do you forget who pays your salary p>
The threat was clear–Martha’s position depended on her obedience to him, not her affection
for me. I felt a pang of sympathy for the housekeeper caught in our power struggle.
“It’s fine, Martha,” I interjected softly. “Just throw them out p>
The loyal housekeeper reluctantly obeyed, though I could see her cursing inwardly at the
“crazy master and crazy lady.” I knew she particularly resented the gloomy days of bland
vegetarian meals since Cassandra’s arrival.
Cassandra, emboldened by her victory with the flowers, clung coquettishly to Ethan’s arm.
“Ethan, tomorrow come shopping for curtains with me p>
Ethan glanced instinctively at me, perhaps expecting jealousy or protest. Instead, he found me
utterly calm, devoid of any visible reaction. My indifference seemed to irritate him more than any angry outburst would have.
Wasn’t I too obedient, too silent? Wasn’t a hint of jealousy normal? The very qualities he once appreciated in me–my patience, my understanding–now seemed to frustrate him.
Cassandra shook his arm impatiently when he didn’t immediately respond. “Ethan, did you
hear me p>
He pulled back his gaze from me, suppressing whatever emotions were brewing beneath his
surface. “Mm,” he answered with a low, muffled sound of agreement.
The next day, while I was out running errands, Cassandra went on her shopping spree. When I
returned to Moonlight Manor, the place was in chaos.
Workers moved throughout the house, removing curtains, replacing decorative items, and rearranging furniture. Cassandra had ostentatiously purchased a mountain of home decor, commanding the staff to replace everything I had once carefully selected.
213
< Chapter 12 Territonal Claims
+25 Puntos >
My curtains, chosen for their subtle pattern that caught the morning light just so, were being tossed unceremoniously into large trash bags. The artwork I had selected to complement the
manor’s architecture was being replaced with gaudy, oversized pieces that overwhelmed the
space.
Everything that had once made this place feel like home to me was being ruthlessly
discarded. When our eyes met across the chaotic living room, Cassandra’s gaze was smug
and victorious.
I simply swept my eyes over the busy workers and the piles of new furnishings before turning silently toward the stairs. Let her have her petty victory. Let her mark her territory like an
animal claiming a new den.
In my room, I methodically began packing what I planned to take with me to Riverdale. I sorted through my belongings, deciding what to discard and what to keep, leaving out only the
necessities for my remaining days here.
I had hoped for a peaceful coexistence in these final days at Moonlight Manor, but Cassandra
clearly intended to force me out by any means necessary.
Comentarios