"Seriously, you're such a stand-in. Nothing but an understudy in the grand play of life," Mara sneered with a smug twist of her lips.
Mara tried her best to keep that woman's image out of her mind, but hellbent on getting under Ivy's skin, she triumphantly whipped out a photo.
"Oh, dear Victoria, do me this one last favor, will you?" Mara's voice dripped with saccharine sweetness.
After they left, Ivy finally exhaled in relief, retreating to the sanctuary of her bedroom. She flopped down on the bed as Balfour followed, carrying a warm glass of milk.
"At last, some peace and quiet. I'm absolutely spent," she sighed.
Balfour took a seat beside her. "Sorry about that mess. I won't let anyone barge in uninvited again. I've no idea how they even got our address."
"It's fine, really. I'm not mad at you."
Ivy wasn't in the mood to talk about Mara. Instead, her thoughts drifted to her work. Life had changed; she had to be wary of paparazzi every time she stepped out.
So, apart from essential classes, she spent most of her time at home.
If she couldn't relax even in her own house, where could she? There would be no reprieve from the constant demands on her time.
Watching Ivy's constant hustle, Balfour felt a pang of sympathy. "Do you really need to push yourself this hard for fans you've never met?"
Balfour's question hung in the air as Ivy sat up, her face stern with conviction.
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