After the long evening at the hospital, it was Balfour who lifted Ivy gently into his arms and carried her back into the house.
To their surprise, Alyssa and Dean had been waiting up for them in the living room, their eyes heavy with sleep that they refused to succumb to.
âBack at last! What did the doctor say?â Alyssa bustled forward, concern knitting her brow as she followed them to the couch.
Ivy, feeling a twinge of guilt, took Alyssaâs hand. âGrandma, Grandpa, you shouldâve gone to bed. Itâs really not a big deal.â
Alyssa sighed with a frown. âHow could we sleep knowing you two were still out? Donât worry, dear. At our age, we donât need much sleep anyway.â
Seeing Ivy struggling to get down, Alyssa relented. âAlright, now that youâre back, we can rest easy.
Just make sure Balfour takes good care of you.â
With a nod of assurance from Balfour, Alyssa finally retreated to her room with Dean shuffling behind her.
âYou hungry? Want me to whip up something for you?â Balfour offered, but Ivy shook her head. Her appetite had vanished with the nightâs turmoil.
Respecting her wishes, Balfour decided heâd prepare some warm soup later if she felt peckish during their usual late-night snack time.
Not long after they settled, Mark trudged in, carrying Mara over his shoulder. He barely greeted them before he scurried away, eager to escape to the security staff and cooksâ quarters in the small building beside the main house.
Mara, noticing the quiet atmosphere, didnât bother to keep her voice down despite Ivyâs presence. She flashed a sly grin at Balfour. âNext time Ivy gets sick, we should skip that hospital. The docâs no good. A different one prescribed me loads of topical medicine.â
Ivy ignored Maraâs chatter. Her day had been turned upside down because of her, resulting in a twisted ankle that would keep her from the film set. Frustration bubbled within her, but she was indifferent to how Balfour might handle Maraâs punishment. All Ivy wanted was to deal with the aftermath and return to the set.
Balfour, not giving Mara the satisfaction of a response, turned to Ivy. âDidnât you say you wanted to rest? Shall I carry you up to your room?â
With a nod, Ivy accepted his offer.
Mara watched, eyes brimming with envy, as Balfour lifted Ivy and carried her upstairs. Left alone in the vast living room, Maraâs composure crumbled, and she hurled the decorative pillows from the couch to the floor in a fit of rage.
What was so special about Ivy? Why did she deserve such attention?
The thought of Ivy, an actress, being associated with the Howards boiled her blood.
In a huff, Mara grabbed her phone and opened her long-dormant Twitter account. Initially, sheâd used it to follow the international business moves of the Howards, a family of sharks in the corporate sea. But when she discovered that the Howards had welcomed an actress into their fold, she was stunned.
If someone from showbiz could marry into the Howard family, why couldnât she?