The steel doors of the elevator slid open.
Damien stepped into the foyer.
His golden eyes swept over the living room, taking in the muted reality TV show, the puddle of dark soda on the glass coffee table, Aria lounging happily in a pink bean bag chair with a tub of ice cream, and his sister looking like she was on the verge of a stress-induced coronary.
And then, his gaze landed on Bella Vale.
The temperature in the penthouse plumted instantly.
Diana didn’t wait for her brother to speak. She knew the golden rule of Sinclair negotiations: strike first and strike hard.
"Damien, before you overreact," Diana commanded, sitting up as straight as her bandaged leg would allow. "I have found my caretaker. And before you try to throw her out, I highly suggest you review the terms of our legally binding agreent."
Damien stopped at the edge of the living room, his hands sliding casually into his trouser pockets. "Is that so?" he drawled, his voice a flat, icy monotone.
"It is," Diana bead, gesturing to the sticky, ruined paper on the table. "I read the contract very carefully. You mandated that I conduct my interviews in the lobby under supervision. You did not mandate that you get final approval on my choice of candidate. It’s a loophole, baby brother. I chose Bella. She is officially an employee of the Sinclair Estate for 3 weeks."
Bella stood a little taller behind the sofa, offering Damien a demure smile, perfectly ready to play the victimized, hard-working woman.
Damien stared at Diana for three agonizing seconds.
"A contract," Damien stated, "requires both parties to adhere to the overarching, pre-established bylaws of the estate, Diana. Did you read those?"
Diana’s shark-like smile faltered slightly. "What?"
"Article Four, Section B of the Sinclair Residential Security Protocol," Damien recited flawlessly, pulling his hands from his pockets and adjusting his cuffs. "Any individual residing in this penthouse, or any Sinclair property, requires a Level Four background clearance processed and approved directly by my private military contractors prior to entry."
The blood began to drain from Diana’s face.
"Ms. Vale bypassed that," Damien continued, his golden eyes flicking to Bella with disdain. "She has not been vetted. She is not cleared. Therefore, her presence in my ho is a direct violation of protocol, rendering any employnt contract you signed imdiately null and void."
Diana’s mouth opened and closed silently.
Damien didn’t wait for his sister to argue. He turned his gaze to Bella.
"Get your things," Damien ordered. "And get out of my house."
Bella let out a small, horrified gasp. She looked at Diana for backup, but the older woman was staring at the coffee table in stunned, humiliated defeat.
"I..." Bella stamred, her demure act completely shattering. "But my boxes—"
"Now," Damien growled.
Bella visibly flinched. She scrambled from behind the sofa, sprinting down the corridor toward the guest suite to get her things.
Aria hopped out of her bean bag chair, tossing the pint of Ben & Jerry’s onto the sofa. She reached into the pocket of her silk pajama pants and whipped out her phone.
"Oh, I am not missing this," Aria grinned wickedly, tapping the cara app.
She trotted down the hallway, trailing right behind her panicked sister like a feral TMZ reporter.
"Live from the Sinclair Penthouse!" Aria announced loudly, holding the phone up to record Bella frantically throwing her clothes back into her trunks. "Watch the trash take itself out, ladies and gentlen!"
"Stop recording , Aria!" Bella shrieked, her face flushing crimson as she struggled to zip a massive Louis Vuitton suitcase.
"I’m just docunting a historical mont," Aria humd happily, keeping the cara perfectly frad on Bella’s sweaty, panicking face. "The shortest employnt record in history. Four minutes and twelve seconds. A new personal best for you, honestly."
Bella grunted, hauling the heavy suitcase off the bed. The veins in her neck strained as she dragged it out into the hallway.
Usually, there were guards or bellhops to handle luggage. But Damien’s n, stationed near the elevator, didn’t move an inch. They stood like stone statues, watching Bella drag her own heavy trunks across the marble floor.
"Notice the struggle, viewers," Aria comnted, following Bella step-for-step. "Nepotism really doesn’t build upper-body strength. Look at that exertion. The Louis Vuitton canvas is heavy when you don’t have a soul to lighten the load."
"Shut up!" Bella panted, sweat beading on her forehead as she hauled a second box toward the foyer. "Tell them to help !"
"Now why would I do that?" Aria smiled sweetly. "You’re doing amazing sweetie!"
Bella reached the foyer, dropping the heavy trunk onto the floor with a loud, echoing thud. Her chest was heaving. Her hair was falling out of its pearl headband, and dark sweat patches were forming under the arms of her cashre cardigan.
She spun around, her eyes burning with hot, humiliated, rage.
She finally snapped.
"I DON’T NEED THIS STUPID JOB!" Bella scread at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking as she glared at Aria.
Aria slowly lowered the phone.
"I am Bella Vale!" Bella shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at her own chest. "I don’t need to kiss so old woman’s ass! One day, I am going to be the biggest movie star in the world! Everyone is going to love ! And even your husband is going to be begging for when he realizes what a cheap, fake little slut you are!"
Aria stood there for a mont, her eyes softening into genuine pity.
"You’re so sad, Bella," Aria whispered, shaking her head slowly.
Bella froze, the pity stinging worse than a slap. "What?"
"When we were kids, you didn’t want your own toys; you just wanted to break my dolls. You didn’t want to buy your own clothes; you wanted to steal my dresses. You didn’t even actually like Lucas; you just wanted him because he was mine. And now you’re trying to move into my house to stare at my husband."
Aria took a step forward, her voice calm.
"You don’t want to be better than ," Aria said. "You never did. You just want to be ."
Aria let out a soft, hollow laugh.
"You don’t have an identity, Bella. Your entire life is just a desperate, pathetic reaction to mine."
Bella’s mouth dropped open.
"I am better than you!" Bella shrieked, tears of denial spilling over her eyelashes. She desperately grasped for the one piece of leverage she had. "I got nominated for Best New Actress! ! The critics love ! You got nothing! I am better than you in every single way!"
Aria stared at her sister for two seconds. "Oh?"
"Whose dick did your mother suck to pull that off?" she asked flatly.
Bella lost her mind.
A scream ripped from Bella’s throat. Blinded by humiliation, she lunged forward, raising her hand high into the air, intending to slap the smug look right off Aria’s face.
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