The Mansion
"Are you really going to force a pregnant woman out like that?" she challenged, her voice rising in pitch.
"I am simply doing my job," the man replied, his expression as unreadable as stone. "It's not my concern whether the mansion owner cares about your condition. I'm being polite now, asking you to state your reason for being here or leave voluntarily."
Shelly's fists clenched at her sides, the humiliation and anger simmering beneath her skin. She took a breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Gilet and the young man stood firm, their professionalism unwavering as they waited for her decision. The cold morning air seemed to hang between them, thick with unspoken tension.
Shelly's face twisted in disbelief as the weight of the situation hit her. She had come expecting to walk through the door like she owned the place—after all, it was Benjamin's house, wasn't it? But the cold reality of the staff's obedience to Erica was too much to bear.
