Twenty Five
Ellen’s POV
As I walked into the grand foyer of our family estate, I made no effort to conceal the frustration and anger that weighed my heart. The foyer stretched out before me, adorned with exquisite marble floors and towering columns that reached towards a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
“Why are you crawling behind me like a disfigured snail?!” I yelled at Ava, my assistant.
She scurried to my side. I gave her a demeaning look and with a graceful flick of my wrist, I tossed my bags into her awaiting arms, knowing she would handle them with the utmost care no matter what.
I walked into the mansion that stood in front of me.
“You there, fetch me some water at once.” I snapped at one of the house keepers, my tone sharp with frustration.
The maid scurried to comply with my demand, disappearing momentarily before returning with a crystal-clear glass filled to the brim with refreshing water. Yet, as she approached, I couldn’t help but notice the weariness etched into her features.
“Why do you look like an old hag?” I remarked, my words dripping with disdain.
The maid’s expression faltered momentarily, but she remained composed as she presented the glass to me. Ignoring her reaction, I snatched the water from her grasp, taking a long, satisfying sip before handing the empty glass back to her.
“Never mind.” I dismissed her with a wave of my hand. “Just take this and be gone.”
Turning away without another word, I ascended the grand staircase, each step a testament to the wealth and power that surrounded me. As I reached the top, I disappeared into the sanctuary of my lavish room to prepare for the dinner with my family.
I hope this fucking goes well.
Stepping into my room, I felt a level of comfort wash over me. My room was elegantly decorated, with plush furnishings and delicate accents adorning every corner. The soft glow of the crystal chandelier cast a warm ambiance, enveloping me in a cocoon of comfort.
As I dropped my purse onto the dresser, I couldn’t resist the urge to peek at the little photograph inside. Rummaging through its contents, my fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the photograph.
Staring at the picture, anger resurfaced. I almost crumpled it but I withheld myself. I need it to find the bastards afterall.
For a moment, I entertained the idea of telling my family. But as I weighed the potential consequences, a sense of pragmatism prevailed, and I reluctantly returned the picture to my purse.
After a quick refresh in the bathroom, I emerged feeling poised and composed, ready to face whatever challenges the evening may bring.
Slipping into a sleek yet sophisticated outfit. A fitted black dress hugged my curves, accented with tasteful embellishments that added a touch of understated glamour. Paired with elegant heels and minimal jewelry, the outfit exuded confidence and refinement.
Perfect.
With one last glance at my reflection in the mirror, I made my way downstairs to the dining room, my purse securely in hand.
“Where have you been, you spoilt brat?” My brother’s voice cut through the silence like a knife, his disdain evident in every syllable. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
His accusation fueled the flame of anger within me, igniting the embers of resentment that smoldered beneath the surface. “I’ve had enough of your damned blabbering, Gabriel.” I retorted, my voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t need your judgment.”
“What the fuck?!” Gabriel yelled his face distorted in anger.This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.
But before our quarrel could escalate further, Liz intervened, her voice a welcome reprieve from the escalating tension. “Enough.” She declared, her tone commanding obedience. “Can we not have some peace and quiet for a while in this house? Everytime we’re together, can you guys just pretend to be decent and keep your wimps to yourselves?”
“Tell that to Ellen.” Gabriel retorted.
I wanted to yell at him but then our parents walked, so I could only swallow my anger and look at him with contempt.
As I turned to look at our parents as they entered the room, their grim expressions gave them out. It was a familiar sight, one that had become all too common in recent months.
Our family, once a bastion of wealth and influence, now teetered on the brink of ruin. This persecution from the press also affected my parents as they argued more often than before.
I glanced at my mother, her brow furrowed with worry, and then to my father, his once radiant demeanor now dulled by the burden weighing on his shoulder. What had happened to the family we once were? What had torn us apart at the seams? Had Grandma Monica truly been the glue that held us together? Everyone now seemed to be on the look for their own personal interest or gain.
My gaze shifted to my brother Gabriel, a constant source of frustration and disappointment. His reckless antics and frivolous lifestyle only served to exacerbate the tension within our already fractured household.
And then there was Liz, the only one yet to be directly affected by all this drama.
Hopefully she doesn’t.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed as my father and mother settled into their seats, each lost in their own silent reverie. As I attempted to break the somber atmosphere with a polite greeting, my father remained stoically silent, his attention focused elsewhere.
“Good evening, Dad.” I ventured, my words hanging in the air, unanswered. But he simply ignored me, forging ahead with whatever agenda lay before him.
What was I expecting from a man who would rather eat toad than recognize anybody?
“Let’s get straight to the point. The Manor family business is in trouble.” He began, his words heavy with resignation. “Our stocks are plummeting, and the investors are growing restless.”
Liz’s concern was palpable as she voiced her fears for her upcoming fight. “Dad, what about my match on Saturday?” she interjected, her voice tinged with desperation. “I’ve been training for months, I can’t afford to be affected by this.”
Our father’s response was curt, his gaze unwavering as he delivered his ultimatum. “It won’t. So you have to win at all cost.” He insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Our family’s reputation depends on it.”
Liz sighed in relief. Winning was not a problem as long as the fight would hold.
“The investors are threatening to pull out their resources. The investors are saying the only person they trust is your grandma Monica and since she is late and her will has yet to be read till now, they do not trust anybody. It would have been better if the will was read that they would have trusted the person that your grandma Monica handed the company to but there’s no one and nobody knows what she wanted to do with the company.” My father’s voice was laden with so much stress that could also be detected in his weary eyes as he spoke.
“What about you, Ellen?” He asked, turning his attention to me, his voice laced with disappointment. He had been angry when he and Zeke were divorced. “We need something to boost our public image, and your concert could also be our saving grace.”
Damn it! I thought I would escape that.