The Carson Mansion's ornate doors swung open as a servant ushered in their long-lost daughter. Thanks to careful orchestration by the Special Operations Division, the family had been prepped for the return of their supposedly kidnapped child.
Susan Carson, Velora's stepmother, and Leila Carson, her half-sister, had been waiting for her in the house.
Susan rushed forward, her voice dripping honey. "Welcome home, darling! We've all been counting the minutes. Leila, come say hello to your sister."
Leila remained sprawled across the sofa, legs crossed in a deliberately casual pose. Her haughty demeanor and contemptuous glare swept Velora up and down before she launched into her power play.
"Let's get one thing straight, you walking disaster." Leila's lips curled. "Here are the rules: stay invisible when Dad or our brothers are home—no one wants to see your face. Don't let on we're family out there. And you'll address me as Miss Carson. Clear enough for you?"
"Leila, please!" Susan's theatrical protest fooled no one.
Without looking up from her fresh gel manicure, Leila drawled, "Just teaching her the natural order, Mom. Dad and my brothers would rather she never darkened our door again.
"After all, she's the reason her mother bled out on that delivery table. If she's got the nerve to show up now, she'd better learn her place. I'm doing her a favor, really."
"That's—"
"That's quite enough!" Susan's voice carried just the right note of maternal disapproval before she turned to Velora with a saccharine smile.
"Pay no attention to Leila's nonsense, dear. She's young and speaks without thinking. As the elder sister, I'm sure you understand," she soothed.
Velora's face remained perfectly neutral. "Don't worry. I never let things like this bother me."
"Oh, thank goodness." Susan's shoulders relaxed, already mentally filing Velora under "easily managed."
Then Velora moved, taking one fluid step toward the sofa.
Leila barely bothered to glance up. "What do you want?"
The answer came in the form of a savage kick to the marble coffee table. With a thunderous crash, hundreds of pounds of marble slammed into Leila's shins, hitting with brutal accuracy.
Leila's shriek could have shattered crystal.
Velora pivoted casually, hands sliding into her pockets as she addressed the shell-shocked Susan. "Like I said—I don't let things bother me. I prefer immediate solutions."
"You psychotic little bitch!" Leila's mascara ran in black rivers as she clutched her legs. "Just wait until Dad hears about this. You'll be out on the street where you belong!"
Susan snapped out of her stupor, outrage flooding her features. "Have you completely lost your mind? However wrong Leila might have been, you can't just assault your sister. You've gone too far!"
"Assault?" Velora's eyebrows rose with mock innocence. "I kicked some furniture. Not my problem if her legs got in the way."
"Get out!" Leila's earlier queenly pose had devolved into impotent rage as she struggled to stand. "You're not welcome here, you piece of trash."
"Funny," Velora cut her off with a razor smile. "I must have missed the part where you started running this house."
She had no intention of staying in this place long term, but orders were orders. One month minimum. After that, I'll convince Henry to engineer my exit. Simple enough, she thought.
A cultured male voice cut through her plotting. "What's all this commotion about? The dramatics are audible from the driveway."
The newcomer filled the doorway with easy authority—tall, impeccably suited, radiating the kind of confidence only old money could buy.
He and Henry both wore that same lazy, irritating smile—one that revealed nothing of their true thoughts while playing at knowing everything.
"Ace!" Leila immediately switched to a hurt and accusatory tone, ready to tattle. "She attacked me the second she arrived. Look what she did to my legs—I could be permanently damaged!"
Susan dabbed at invisible tears. "Leila, I'm sure Velora didn't mean it. She was raised wild, after all. Ace, you mustn't blame her too harshly. Though if Leila ends up crippled, she'll have brought it on herself."
"Mom, how could you even say that?" Leila protested.
Ace watched their theatrical performance in silence before fixing Velora with laser focus, one elegant eyebrow arched. "So. You're Velora."
"That's right." Velora matched his steady gaze. She wasn't afraid of Leila tattling. These people might play their parlor games, but none of them—not even Leila—could touch her in a real fight.
She tensed as Ace approached, ready for anything.
Except for what actually happened.
Strong arms wrapped around her in a crushing embrace as Ace's voice softened to pure joy. "Velora, welcome home."
"What the…" Velora's combat-ready fists hung awkwardly in the air.
Completely ignoring the slack-jawed audience, Ace smoothed her hair with a beaming smile. "You must have been through hell. But that's over now. I've got your back. Anyone gives you trouble, they answer to me."
Velora stared up at his megawatt grin, fighting a nervous tick. This was definitely not in the mission briefing. "Uh, thanks, Ace."
"You must be exhausted. Let me show you your room. The furniture's basic since this was last minute, but tomorrow we'll go shopping. Make it exactly how you want it," he said.
He had just taken Velora's hand when Leila's shrill voice shattered the moment. "Ace!"
"Yes?" His voice was glacial.
Leila's face flamed with fury as she jabbed a trembling finger at her legs. "I'm the one who's injured! Don't you even care? I'm your sister too! How dare you take her side?"
A knife-edge smile curved Ace's lips as arctic amusement filled his eyes. "Are you? Strange. I don't remember you sharing our mother's blood."
The verbal dagger struck home with surgical precision. Leila reeled as though physically struck.
To outsiders, she played the role of a pampered princess perfectly—doted on by her Chamber of Commerce chairman father and four brilliant brothers. Only she knew the truth: how those brothers maintained their own exclusive circle, treating her as an unwelcome intruder.
Believing her brothers all hated him for causing their mother's death in childbirth, Leila had considered herself higher in the hierarchy. Watching her usually indifferent brother shower affection on this murderer made her blood boil.
"Ace," Susan's voice carried a warning. "After all these years, how can you still—"
"Susan." His smile never wavered as he cut her off. "Have I been too hands-off lately? Made you forget your place in this household? I see right through your mother–daughter performance. You can drop the innocent act."
Color drained from Susan's face. "You—"
"Let me be crystal clear." Ace's friendly expression took on a predatory edge. "Stay away from Velora, or you'll both be house-hunting much sooner than planned."
After that pointed threat, Ace led Velora upstairs to her bedroom.
"So, what do you think? The room gets amazing natural light, and that window gives you a perfect view of the gardens. Very peaceful. Plus, I'm right next door if you need anything," he said.
Velora said nothing, her eyes fixed on him with laser focus.
A low chuckle escaped him. "Something on your mind? You've been studying me since we met."
Her response came with characteristic bluntness. "Shouldn't you hate me?"
"Oh? Why would you think that?" he asked.
"Word is, you're the one who pushed me outside that day." Her eyes never left his face. "Right before I disappeared."