Chapter 2

Steam swirled around me as I stepped out of the first-floor bathroom.

The crystal chandelier in the living room was blindingly bright. I instinctively lowered my head, wanting to quickly slip back upstairs to my room, but a figure blocked my path.

It was Ethan's fiancée, Stella Grant.

She wore a wine-red silk dress, her long curled hair casually draped over her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless, her nails long and beautifully painted.

I clutched the corner of my pajama dress tightly. Under her scrutinizing gaze, I felt completely exposed.

"Hello, Miss Grant."

I greeted her quietly.

She didn't respond. Those slightly upturned eyes swept over me from head to toe.

There was no warmth in that gaze. It was like looking at a cheap decoration placed in the wrong spot.

I was so embarrassed I wished I could find a crack in the floor to crawl into.

The showerhead in the second-floor guest bathroom was broken, and Martha had told me to temporarily use the bathroom in Ethan's master bedroom on the first floor.

I hadn't expected to run into his rightful fiancée at such an unfortunate moment.

Stella finally withdrew her gaze and turned to Martha, her voice soft:

"Martha, who is this?"

Martha quickly explained:

"Miss Grant, this is the young lady the master brought back from the orphanage recently... Miss Winters. Ava."

"Oh? An adopted child."

Stella drew out her words and gave a light laugh.

"Ethan is so kindhearted. However..."

She paused, her eyes contemptuous:

"She must be sixteen or seventeen now, right? At that age, still living under the same roof as her guardian? That doesn't look good for Ethan's reputation."

My entire body stiffened. My blood seemed to freeze instantly.

I could feel the malice wrapped in her words, like countless tiny needles stabbing into my fragile, sensitive self-esteem.

Martha tried to help me:

"Miss Grant, Ava is a good girl..."

"Martha."

Stella interrupted her, her tone still gentle.

"You're just a housekeeper. When did it become your place to speak about Chase family matters?"

Having said that, she gracefully walked over to the sofa and sat down, as if nothing had happened.

I didn't dare stay any longer. I practically fled upstairs and shut myself in my room.

My heart pounded wildly in my chest. Stella's words circled in my mind like a curse.

I had only been in this so-called "home" for three months.

To me, Ethan was more like a cold benefactor than a father.

He gave me a place to stay, an expensive private school education, but withheld any warm glances.

I desperately tried to minimize my presence, just to have a place where I belonged.

But Stella's appearance reminded me that I was ultimately an outsider living under someone else's roof.

From that day on, I began deliberately avoiding her.

Whenever she came over, I locked myself in my room. I even avoided going downstairs for water.

I naively thought that as long as I didn't appear in front of her, we could coexist peacefully.

Until that dinner, when Ethan was also present.

In front of him, Stella pulled out a blue letter and placed it on the dining table.