marry. The way he phrased it made it sound like she had a choice, but his assertive tone suggested otherwise. He wanted her to consider it, but it was clear he expected her answer to be yes. So cocky.
What if she turned him down? Would that put her in danger? Brenna wasn’t someone who backed down easily, but Ethan looked strong-both in influence and sheer presence.
She had just returned to her real family, and already, he was bringing this matter up-it was a bit rude.
Still, she wasn’t reckless. She could tell he wasn’t going to let her leave the car if she outright refused him.
“I’ll give it some thought,” Brenna eventually said.
A subtle smile flickered across Ethan’s lips as he absorbed her response.
It wasn’t a rejection. If anything, it suggested a level of interest, maybe even approval.
In his mind, “give it some thought” meant “not refusing,” and “not refusing” meant “eventually agreeing.”
That meant he could move forward with the proposal.
Perfect-everything was falling into place for him.
Satisfied with how smoothly things were progressing, Ethan unlocked the car door, his mood noticeably lighter.
Brenna exhaled, relieved as she pushed the door open and stepped out. She glanced back briefly and thanked Ethan again. He gave her a brief nod before pulling away. Only when his car disappeared down the street did she turn toward the Harper residence.
Through the iron gate, Brenna took in the sheer size of the Harper estate. The ground was paved with pristine marble, leading to an elaborate rockery fountain positioned directly across from the entrance. The main house itself stood five stories tall, designed with a palatial elegance, its symmetrical structure exuding grandeur. The interior space had to exceed 1,500 square meters-far grander than the Barrett family’s townhouse.
Brenna’s brow furrowed slightly. Hadn’t the Barretts claimed the Harpers lived in a poor, remote village? Yet here they were, settled in one of the most expensive living districts in Shirie.
And earlier, Rosie had covered a bill worth over a hundred thousand dollars without so much as blinking. Clearly, money wasn’t an issue for the Harper family. The Barretts’ so-called investigation of the Harper family had been utterly unreliable.
Brenna reached out and pressed the doorbell.
She then waited. The bell rang three times, but no one came. Sweat trickled down her temple as the relentless heat bore down on her.
Was no one home? Even if her parents and brothers were busy, a household this large had to have servants. There was no way the house was completely empty.
Were they deliberately refusing to let her in?
Her patience wore thin. She decided to give them five minutes. If no one answered the door by then, she’d leave and never come back.
If they couldn’t be bothered to welcome her, why should she waste her time on them? Maybe they weren’t much better than the Barretts. Maybe Rosie’s actions reflected the family’s true stance-they simply didn’t want her back.
Inside the Harper family’s house, a group of maids huddled near the window, peeking toward the entrance.
“Miss Kelly, could that be Miss Harper at the gate? Should I go check?” Julia Collins, a maid in her early twenties, asked the housekeeper, Rachael Kelly.
Rachael, a woman in her forties with a perfectly tailored uniform and an air of strict efficiency, shot Julia a sharp look.
She waved her phone dismissively. “Don’t talk nonsense. Miss Rosie Harper just called-she’s still dining at Flavor Restaurant with Miss Harper. They won’t be back for at least two more hours. So whoever’s outside right now isn’t Miss Harper.”
Julia hesitated. “But if that’s not her, why does she keep ringing the bell?” she asked.
Rachael scoffed, crossing her arms. “Look at her clothes. She’s dressed worse than we are. Even though Miss Harper hasn’t been living with the Harper family for years, she wouldn’t be that poorly dressed. That person is clearly a beggar. Keep the gate shut, and don’t let her in.”
Rachael glanced down at her phone, the recent call log with Rosie still on display. Rosie’s instructions had been clear-leave Brenna outside. Let her stand in the heat, waiting, while the rest of the household ignored her.
As the Harper family’s housekeeper, Rachael oversaw everything from daily maintenance to staff management. Though just a servant here, she held more influence than most realized. After all, she had been with the Harper family for over twenty years, long enough to earn their trust. A single word from her could determine whether a maid kept her job or was sent packing. And no one in this house wanted to be sent packing.
The maids at the Harper estate were paid generously. They had comfortable accommodations, freshly prepared meals, seasonal uniforms, and long holiday breaks. The work was light, and the salary was better than most could ever dream of.
Coming from ordinary backgrounds, none of the servants here wanted to lose their jobs.
As a result, everyone sought to stay in Rachael’s good graces. Her word was final, and even if they had doubts, they seldom dared to challenge her authority.
Rachael turned to the servants behind her, her tone sharp. “What are you all standing around for? Get back to work!”
At once, they scattered and busied themselves with their duties.
Julia lingered, hesitating, before speaking up. “Whenever guests arrive, we always greet them at the gate right away. Today is the day Ms. Harper returns home-wouldn’t it be improper to ignore her like this? And if that really is Ms. Harper out there, and Mrs. Harper finds out we left her waiting, won’t there be trouble?”
Rachael’s eyes narrowed. “Mind your own business. Look at what she’s wearing. Even we’re dressed better than that. Do you really think someone like her could be Miss Harper? Besides, the Harper family doesn’t just let anyone in.”
Worried that the person outside might actually be Brenna, Julia pressed further, saying, “It’s scorching out there. Shouldn’t we at least check whether that woman is Ms. Harper or not? I will go. If it’s not her, I can ask why she’s here.”
Before Rachael could reply, Julia started toward the door. Annoyed, Rachael grabbed her by the arm to stop her. “Fine. I’ll go check. You go upstairs and clean the room we prepared for Ms. Harper. Make sure it’s spotless.”
Julia hesitated but obeyed, heading toward the staircase.
Only then did Rachael make her way to the entrance.
The sun was fiery, making the marble pavement gleam under the sunlight. Brenna stood by the gate, unmoving, her skin glowing with sweat. Rachael opened the door. Though Brenna’s clothes were casual, Rachael could not help but notice her resemblance to Giselle Harper, her mother.
Still, Rachael kept her expression cold, almost condescending. “Who are you looking for here?” she asked Brenna.
Brenna remained polite. She wasn’t the type to look down on anyone, no matter their status. “I’m the daughter the Harper family lost twenty years ago. Let me inside now.”
Rachael scoffed, her eyes scanning Brenna’s outfit-frayed denim shorts, an oversized shirt, and scuffed sneakers. By her estimation, the entire ensemble wasn’t worth more than two hundred dollars.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.