Ellara took the coffee but didn't even glance at the documents. "Oh, thanks!" she said casually.
Mora raised an eyebrow as she watched Ellara head toward the walk-in closet. "You're going out today?"
Unlike many women who loved shopping sprees, Ellara wasn't a fan of going out. She was famously lazy, preferring to lounge by the pool with a coffee in hand, soaking up the sun.
Sometimes she painted, but she never bothered with makeup when at home.
So when Mora saw Ellara take out a beautiful dress and start applying makeup, she was genuinely surprised.
Ellara put on a bold red lipstick, her smile radiant and unapologetic. "That's right. I can't wait to pay a visit to the Perez family. Just the thought of Victor Perez lying helpless in bed makes my day."
Victor Perez—the Perez family heir and, in a twisted way, Ellara's half-brother.
"Oh, and do find out who it was that roughed him up. I'd like to give them a little reward," Ellara added with a smirk before heading for the door.
Mora chuckled helplessly. If the folks at the underground fight club's second floor heard about Ellara's decision, they'd probably take turns messing with the Perez family just for the bounty.
But then Ellara reconsidered. "Actually, forget it. None of them managed to finish him off. No reward. Let's just hope they'll be more decisive next time."
Watching the villa door close behind her, Mora shook her head in exasperation.
The Perez family lived in a sprawling private estate in the affluent part of Elysian Bay . When Ellara's sports car pulled up at the entrance, the gardeners pruning the bushes paused, exchanging glances.
"Why is she back?"
"Guess we're in for some drama."
Their whispers were laced with mockery, though kept low. Still, Ellara heard every word clearly.
To the Perez family staff, she was the unwelcome outsider—Miguel Perez's rumored illegitimate child. Her return over the past six months had upended the family's fragile peace.
What they didn't know, however, was the truth: Ellara's mother was Miguel Perez's legitimate wife, while the current Mrs. Perez was once his mistress.
Ellara ignored their gossip, striding down the path with a spring in her step—confident, radiant, and utterly unbothered.
"Mom, can you make the apple pieces smaller? Better yet, turn them into juice!"
Upstairs, a muffled voice called out. The "mummy" on the bed, wrapped in bandages from head to toe, struggled to speak, his jaw still recovering from dislocation.
"Oh, my sweet darling, if I cut them any smaller, there won't be anything left!"
Around him, a half-dozen maids fussed, and a tearful Mrs. Perez held a plate of finely diced apple pieces. She tried to feed him a few, but he couldn't even open his mouth. Frustrated, she handed the plate to a maid to juice the apples instead.
"Oh—my—God!" The door swung open, and in waltzed Ellara, carrying a sparkly silver bag. With every step, her hips swayed dramatically. "Is this really my once-proud, high-and-mighty brother?"
Ellara was the picture of elegance—soft curls, a chic dress, and a limited-edition designer bag.
The stark contrast between her and the bedridden mummy was almost comical.
Mrs. Perez's face turned sour. "What are you doing here, you little wretch?"
Ellara grinned, her voice dripping with mockery. "Oh, I just wanted to see a mummy up close! You know, Mrs. Perez, mummies are usually locked away in ancient tombs in Africa, but look how lucky your family is—you have one right at home!"
Mrs. Perez froze, her face blank for a moment before she exploded.
"You insolent brat!"
She lunged for Ellara's hair but missed, tumbling to the ground instead. The maids rushed to help her up.
"Mrs. Perez, your legs seem awfully unsteady these days. I suppose age does that to a person. You're starting to resemble a clumsy old hen," Ellara remarked, her tone dripping with faux concern.
Everyone was stunned into silence.
For all her wealth and beauty, Mrs. Perez wasn't used to such treatment. Furious, she grabbed a knife from who-knows-where and charged at Ellara, completely abandoning any sense of decorum.
The maids tried to intervene but failed to stop her. Mrs. Perez chased Ellara all the way to the pool.
Just as she was about to reach her, a commanding voice rang out from behind. "What's going on here?"
Startled, Mrs. Perez lost her balance and toppled into the pool.
When the maids finally fished her out, she was soaked from head to toe.
"Oh—my—God!" Ellara feigned shock, covering her mouth dramatically. "Look, a drowned chicken!"
Mrs. Perez's face turned white, and she fainted on the spot, likely from sheer rage.
"Ellara."
Miguel Perez, the family patriarch, stepped out from behind the maids. His gaze briefly rested on Ellara, but there was no anger in his eyes. To him, Victor was an incompetent fool, and Mrs. Perez was past her prime. Ellara, despite her defiance, was the only one who brought real value to the family.
Ellara looked at him with a cold smile. "Oh, Mr. Perez, did you call for me?"
Miguel Perez sighed, putting on a paternal facade. "Welcome home. Will you be staying the night?"
"Not a chance. I wouldn't want Mrs. Perez sneaking into my room with a knife in the middle of the night. You know she'd do it," Ellara replied without hesitation.
Disappointment flickered across Miguel's face, but he masked it with a sigh. "At least come to my study. I have something for you."
In the study, Miguel presented a share transfer agreement. He wanted to give Ellara 5% of the family business.
Ellara saw through his intentions instantly. This wasn't a gift but a ploy to tie her to the Perez family's interests.
Clever as always, Ellara declined the offer and instead made a different demand: she wanted a gemstone ring currently in Mrs. Perez's possession—a relic that had once belonged to her late mother.
Miguel frowned. The ring was priceless, but he could part with it. Still, he feigned reluctance. "My dear, you know that ring belongs to Eva now. I can't just take it from her."
Eva——the Mrs. Perez.
Ellara's smile was as warm as spring blossoms, but her gaze was sharp. Miguel's meaning was clear—she'd have to trade for it.
And Ellara, ever the strategist, knew exactly how to play his game.