Bedroom

Irene Jones POV

“Who is this ugly woman?”

I stopped the moment we rolled into the living room, Theodore’s wheelchair gliding with me as I forced it to a halt. It took more strength than I expected, especially after dragging this thing all the way in on my own while listening to every taunt thrown at me along the way.

So this was the first thing I was going to hear after entering this mansion. Perfect.

The place was stunning, all white and wide open, so graceful it made both my apartment and the Jones family home feel like storage closets in comparison. Not that my apartment could compete with anything in this house anyway.

“Theodore, is this what the Jones family gives you? A woman so ugly I feel like I’m staring at a ghost under all these lights?” The woman’s voice cut into me, sharp and irritated, as if the sight of me offended her very existence.

Four people sat waiting—one woman in her forties, another older woman settled beside an equally aged man, and a younger man seated next