When the rich aroma of the food filled the air, Maura's stomach grumbled. She turned her head toward the table, her throat dry as she surveyed the dishes. She hated to admit it, but Selina's cooking had always been top-notch—the only fragile thing that had ever truly connected her to Zane's life.
Straightening her spine with an air of entitlement, Maura spoke wearily. "I was in such a hurry to get back that I didn't even have breakfast. I can have this food, right?"
Unbeknownst to them, Zane had just stepped out of his bedroom. Holding a document in hand, he paused in the hallway, overhearing the exchange. He locked his gaze on Selina, studying her reaction—was she truly indifferent, or was she performing for his attention?
Selina continued to ignore her, turning toward Eloise to speak, but she stopped short when she saw Maura reaching for the food without waiting for permission.
"What are you doing?" Selina asked, her disbelief barely masking her sharp irritation.
"What do you think? Eating, of course," Maura replied sharply.
The spoon slipped from Selina's hand, clattering against a plate as she rose abruptly. Her chair screeched across the floor.
"Are you eating my meal without an invitation? No shame?" Selina demanded. Her frown was deep enough to make most people flinch, yet Maura didn't move. Selina's rage wasn't even about the words anymore—it was that Maura kept crossing every line.
Maura held her composure, flashing Selina a sweet, taunting smile.
"This is Zane's house," Maura said, her tone dripping with mockery. "I can do whatever I like. After all, you told me to feel at home, didn't you?"
She reached for a spoon—only for Selina to snatch her wrist away before she could touch it.
"Not in my effort," Selina retorted. She couldn't believe this spoiled brat was trying to act bossy here.
"Don't be selfish—it's only food," Maura countered.
Selina gave a mocking grin, her tone edged with sharp yet calm sarcasm. "Exactly. Just food — something a working-class woman like me couldn't possibly share with you. Surely, a wealthy lady like you prefers five-star restaurants. Don't be a beggar here."
Maura's chest rose and fell sharply as rage slammed into her at Selina's unexpected jab.
"Beggar!?" Maura's eyes widened in disbelief, her anger barely contained. "Are you serious? Do I look like one? Or are you just too blind to see the luxury jewels that adorn me?"
"Who cares about that? If you still have a shred of shame left, you should walk away from my meal—while I'm still being nice," Selina warned. Her voice was calm, almost soft, but the seriousness beneath it was unmistakable.
Maura scoffed and rolled her eyes, wondering what Selina could do. She was ready to throw a challenge back at her—until something else caught her attention, and she swallowed the words down.
Catching a familiar figure from the corner of her eye, Maura turned sharply to Zane, who remained silent, his gaze fixed not on her, but on Selina.
Zane was stunned to witness that Selina didn't bother to defend her place against Maura.
"Zane," Maura called out weakly, like a spoiled child who was being bullied.
At last, Zane stepped forward with his gaze locked on Selina's unreadable expression. He looked at her as if trying to see through her soul.
"I can't believe how petty and selfish you are, Selina. She only wanted some, but do you have to go this far? Whatever your reason, you should share. At least share with someone sick." He murmured finally, trying to find a fault in her character. One, he needed to judge that she was no different from her father.
"I won't let your mistress have a single bite of my meal. Let me be petty and greedy," She declared, her voice low and calm.
"Right. You are no different. Everything about you is just a pretence." He muttered, his tone cutting with disappointment.
Selina's grip on the spoon tightened, forcing herself not to waver before him and Maura under his biting words. How dare he call her devotion, love, and efforts to be pretence?
"I'm glad you got to understand that. Everything is just a façade," Selina asserted with a dark smile on her lips.
"I just feel a little dizzy since I haven't taken my medication. It's fine if she doesn't want me to have some because I'm being a little shameless." Maura murmured in her usual tone as she scooped a small amount of food.
Maura knew Selina wouldn't dare stop her now that Zane was here. That thought brought a triumphal smile to her lips.
"Dream on," Selina hissed.
Before Maura's spoon reached her mouth, Selina slapped it away. Food splattered across Maura's pristine white dress, the spoon clattering to the floor.
A shocked, angry gasp escaped Maura's lips as she shot up from her seat, her gaze dropping to the stain spreading across her white gown.
"Selina—!" Maura hissed, eyes blazing as fury snapped through her. Her fingers twitched, curling into fists, but she forced herself to stay still when Zane was here.
Selina stormed into the open kitchen, grabbed the trash can, and returned to the table. She scraped the food Maura had touched into the trash, as if it were contaminated, her movements precise and unyielding.
When finished, Selina locked eyes with Maura this time, delivering a death glare. "If you're still hungry, lick the rest from the plate."
Maura looked up at Zane, expecting some reaction—but his eyes were still fixed on Selina, as if what his so-called wife had just done to her wasn't the least bit humiliating.
With that, she grabbed her lunchbox and turned towards the entrance with calm, unwavering steps. But she couldn't take another step when she felt a sharp, rough grip around her elbow, which tugged her back.
Selina gasped, stumbling a step back, only to face Zane's blazing gaze, which sent a chill down her spine this time at the sight of restrained anger.
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.
"You don't get to be disrespectful to my guest. Not in front of me. So, apologize." He demanded, sounding upset.
Not because of her action towards Maura, but her coldness lately felt foreign and unsettled. It was something he couldn't quite name in him.
"Never will I!" She growled, shoving Zane away with her palms pressed against his chest.
Zane staggered a step back as his grip loosened. His expression darkened.
But she halted briefly at the entrance, nearly colliding with a maid.
The maid quickly bowed to Zane, then to Selina. "Madam, there is a young man outside waiting for you. He said his name is Noah."
Noah? Selina's lashes fluttered in surprise.
How did he find her here?
A young man waiting for Selina — that sounded like a ticking bomb to Zane. His eyes narrowed.
And Selina had already walked out of the mansion without a glance. Her heels clicked against the marble floor — cold, precise, and final.
Zane followed behind her quietly until he reached the threshold. His indifference to Selina's life hindered him from confronting her as he watched her approach the young man waiting beside a Red Lamborghini.
"Noah," Selina called out, her voice tinged with surprise. "What are you doing here?"
The young man didn't say a word at first. He took a step closer, closing the gap between them, and pulled Selina into his embrace without warning, wrapping his arms around her soft frame.
The young man, Noah, beamed. "I've dropped by so many times at the pub and learned you're no longer working there. I've missed you, Selina," he whispered in his usual, velvet voice, holding her close while his blue, sea eyes collided across Zane's intense stare from a distance.
That look felt like a sword wielded directly at Noah's throat.
Noah's eyes narrowed at the young man watching him—dangerously calm, as though he'd just laid hands on something he shouldn't get that close. He crooked his lips into a knowing smirk.