Mara slid her phone into her pocket, a smug feeling spreading through her. The vitriolic comments about Ivy sheâd just scrolled through had lifted her spirits considerably.
Earlier in the day, Balfour had been furious with Maraâs behavior, and she couldnât help but mull over how to change his perception of her. With a heavy heart, Mara entered her room, her gaze lingering on the water bottle resting on her desk.
Eventually, she approached it as if having made up her mind, and poured herself a full glass of steaming hot water. After a momentâs hesitation, she topped it off with half a glass of cold tap water, thinking that all she needed was to make her skin appear scalded.
To win Balfour over, Mara knew she had to be cruel to herself. She rolled up her trouser leg and splashed the water onto her ankle with a violent flick of her wrist.
âAh-â
The outcry escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she clamped her lower lip between her teeth.
Even diluted, the water scalded her skin painfully. As she watched the skin redden and swell, she limped over to the nearby couch, shivering with pain yet biting her lip to keep from making any more noise.
Balfour descended from upstairs, his tall frame exuding an unmistakable presence. Despite avoiding public interviews, the social media buzz about the youngest and most attractive CEO was relentless. It was no wonder; his charm stirred hearts everywhere.
Jealousy pricked at Mara as she watched him. She was determined to keep this man firmly within her grasp.
Leaving her family to immigrate had been a grave mistake, and now that she was back, she had no intentions of leaving again.
Balfour noticed Mara still lounging on the couch with no intent to rise and assumed she was still feigning a sore foot. His brow furrowed slightly, wondering when Mara had become so deceitful, seemingly always lying.
Approaching her, he asked, âWhy are you still sitting here?â
To his surprise, Mara lifted her head, her face slick with sweat, which made no sense in the current cool climate.
âWhatâs the matter now?â he questioned, seeing her look genuinely unwell.
Mara forced a smile, âBalfour, I know you think Iâm deceiving you, but how do you know Iâm not truly in pain? Ever since Ivy got hurt, youâve hardly looked at me. You carried her to the hospital, but did you ever consider that I might really be hurt?â
Balfour remembered carrying Ivy, Mara hadnât appeared to be in such distress then. How could she have deteriorated so quickly?
His face grave, he bent down to examine her, but Mara pushed his hand away.
âForget it. I know Iâm no longer important to you. Whatâs the point of old affection tonight, Iâll book a flight back home. I wonât trouble you anymore.â
Balfour could hear the strain in her voice, the sound of someone enduring great pain. Ye she had not seemed this way at the hospital.
âWhat happened to you? If youâre hurt, just say so. I can have someone take you to the hospital.â
Mara, looking utterly dejected, pushed his hand away and stood up, staggering away from him.
âBalfour, I know what youâre thinking-that Iâm just putting on a show, causing you trouble again. From today on, Iâll know my place and will never bother you again.â
Watching her wavering gait, Balfour felt his patience waning and decided to stop intervening.
But then Mara stumbled off the couch.
âUgh-â
Curling up in agony, the pain in her leg felt as if it were being seared by fire, sharp and burning.
Only then did Balfour notice the injury on her leg. He watched in shock as Mara rolled up her trouser leg to reveal a swollen, angry red patch that made him recoil in horror.