The mansion felt heavier than usual that evening. Shadows stretched across the polished floors, the silence punctuated only by the soft ticking of the antique clock in the hallway.
Mila had been watching from afar, her sharp gaze following every movement. She noticed the way Aiden's gray eyes lingered on Mia, the way he allowed her to sit closer during meals, even let her share the dining table with him—a privilege no one else had been granted. It burned inside Mila, a mix of jealousy and strategy.
Aiden, on the other hand, had been quiet all day, tense and withdrawn. His posture rigid, hands clenched in his lap, a visible sign that he desperately needed space. The day had been long, and Mia had tried her best to keep her presence helpful but unobtrusive.
"I'm done," he muttered, his voice low and edged with frustration, almost growling. "Give me space to breathe."
"Yes, sir," Mia replied gently, pushing his wheelchair toward his room. "I'll leave you to rest."
Once inside, he sighed and asked her to fetch some documents from his study. Mia nodded and left, unaware that Mila had silently appeared near the hallway.
"Going somewhere?" Mila asked, blocking her path, her tone soft yet sly.
Mia froze. "Oh… I'm just fetching some papers Aiden asked for."
Mila's lips curved into a teasing smirk. "I see. You're always so eager to please him, aren't you? Don't you think sometimes you overstep?"
Mia blinked, trying to respond politely. "I'm only doing what he asked—"
Before she could finish, Aiden, growing impatient and unaware of the encounter, wheeled himself out of his room, looking for Mia. His gray eyes softened briefly as he noticed her standing there while Mila with a sly expression a mixture of cunning and calculated charm.
Mila, quick on her feet, reached for Mia's hand and pushed her playfully—but the push was too forceful, and Mia stumbled, nearly falling to the floor.
"What are you doing?!" Aiden shouted, rolling quickly toward them.
Mila's face instantly shifted into that of an innocent victim. She clutched her chest, tears welling in her eyes. "Don't blame Mia! It's not her fault. I—" she paused, trembling, "I just… I got upset because my presence ruined her plan. She wants to replace my sister, and I can't let that happen!"
Mia's voice rose, frantic. "I didn't—Aiden, you have to believe me! I wasn't—"
"Shut up!" Aiden bellowed, the words cutting sharply through the room. His chest heaved, caught between anger, protectiveness, and a confusing swell of guilt. He had been trying to give Mila space, but now she had stirred a storm he wasn't prepared to handle.
Mila, sensing the opening, pressed on. "See? She's always trying to be close to you! You don't even notice me your sister's own sister because of her!"
Aiden's fists tightened around the wheels of his chair, gray eyes stormy, his mind a whirlwind of betrayal and fury. Mia stood frozen, cheeks burning, trying desperately to explain herself, but Mila's manipulations drowned her words, feeding the tension in the room.
The mansion itself seemed to hold its breath, walls echoing the unspoken conflicts, the unresolved grievances, and the fragile emotions teetering on the edge.
In that charged moment, nothing was certain not trust, not loyalty, not even Aiden's own judgment. And yet, beneath the anger and frustration, a single truth remained: the storm had only just begun, and its consequences would ripple through every corner of the mansion.