Pfft!"
Davis couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. His precious little sister, who used to cry if anyone so much as raised their voice at her, had just publicly obliterated the so-called stepdaughter with words sharper than any knife. Who would've thought?
In the past, she was soft-spoken to a fault—so gentle, he used to worry she'd get eaten alive without him around. But now? She was blazing.
"Damn, little princess," he chuckled, pouring her a glass of juice and placing it gently in her hands. "Don't waste your breath on people like her. You're gonna make your brother look useless."
Summer took the drink with a smile and sipped delicately, her posture regal, her face unreadable.
"Don't worry, Third Brother," she said sweetly. "I'm just warming up."
At that, Ciara's clenched fists trembled in her lap. Her knuckles had turned white, her fingernails digging into her palm hard enough to draw blood. But her face—oh, her face—remained carefully composed, tear-streaked and pitiful, like a tragic heroine in a low-budget drama.
Everyone had ignored her. Everyone except her dear "father," of course.
Ciara looked up slowly, her voice trembling. "I… I'm sorry if I offended anyone. I was only trying to explain the situation. I didn't mean to speak out of turn. It's just… my mom and I have nowhere else to go…"
She dabbed at her eyes delicately with a silk handkerchief that was clearly designer. Real subtle.
"Dad was all I had left."
Leonardo—Grandfather—snorted beside Summer, clearly unimpressed.
Summer smirked. Still got it, Grandpa.
But her father, Simon, softened instantly. He reached out to pat Ciara's head in front of everyone like she was some abandoned puppy they picked off the street. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. You belong here."
Summer resisted the urge to gag. Belong here?
She scoffed, setting her glass down and crossing her legs as she leaned back into the couch like the queen she was.
"Dad," she said with a mocking smile, "are you sure she belongs here? Because I distinctly remember this house being built for our family. You know, the one Mom was part of? Not some tragic side plot."
Simon stiffened slightly, but Summer wasn't done.
"And if you're so determined to shelter strays, maybe get them a guesthouse. Because this estate has one young miss—me. Not some girl who came crawling in through the back door."
The temperature in the room dropped.
Even Davis, now sitting with one leg over the arm of the chair, let out a low whistle and mumbled, "Savage…"
Ciara looked down again, lips trembling like she was moments from sobbing. She knew she had to say something or risk completely losing the upper hand.
"I never wanted to cause trouble," she whispered. "It's not my fault I was born from a mistake… I just want to be accepted. Even if just a little. I don't need to be the young miss, I… I just want to be part of the family."
It was the perfect pitiful performance.
Too perfect.
And Summer had seen it all before.
She stood up slowly, graceful as ever, and walked toward Ciara until their eyes met. Then, she crouched slightly so they were at the same eye level and gave her the sweetest, most venomous smile.
"Oh, darling," she cooed, "if you really just wanted to be accepted, you should've thought about that before you tried to steal everything that belonged to me."
Ciara's mask cracked for half a second. Just one. But Summer saw it. She saw the twitch in her eye, the flash of annoyance she quickly buried.
Before she could respond, Leonardo rose to his feet, cane in hand, and cleared his throat.
"This farce has gone on long enough," he said sternly, voice heavy with authority. "Simon, I'll tolerate your choices, but I will not tolerate disrespect in my house. If you insist on keeping this… situation here, she'll live in the side villa. She is not family."
"Dad—" Simon started.
"This is not a negotiation," Leonardo snapped.
Summer smiled. Grandpa had spoken. Game, set, match.
Davis clapped once, grinning. "Welp. That's breakfast and entertainment all in one."
"Come on, Grandpa," Summer said, wrapping her arms around his. "Let's go for a walk in the garden. I need some fresh air after all this acting."
He chuckled. "Lead the way, little tyrant."
As they left the room, Summer didn't bother looking back.
But she could feel Ciara's eyes on her. Burning with rage.
Good.
Let her burn.
Because next time she tried anything… Summer would burn her entire world to the ground.