latelenovela Chapter 354: Ella’s Day.
Chapter 354: Ella’s Day.
Ella woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, the bed beside her cold and empty. She reached across the sheets instinctively, fingers searching for warmth that wasn’t there. Kyle hadn’t come home last night.
That in itself wasn’t unusual—he was a busy man with business ventures she only half understood, meetings that ran late, obligations that pulled him away at odd hours. But Kyle always texted. Always gave her a heads up when he wouldn’t be back. A quick message: "Running late, don’t wait up" or "Stuck in a meeting, see you tomorrow." It was one of the small courtesies that made their unconventional arrangement feel less chaotic because it didn’t leave her wondering. Even when they weren’t on speaking terms after that complicated situation they both got into.
This time? Nothing.
Ella sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. The screen showed no new messages, no missed calls. She pulled up Kyle’s contact and hit dial, pressing the phone to her ear as she waited for the familiar ring.
Nothing. Not even voicemail. Just dead air, followed by an automated message:
[[The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.]]
Her stomach tightened. She tried again. Same result. And again. Still nothing.
"Probably just a dead battery," she muttered to herself, but the words sounded hollow even to her own ears. Kyle was meticulous about keeping his phone charged. It was his lifeline—to his businesses, his contacts, his various... relationships. He didn’t let it die.
Ella set the phone down and stared at it, as if willing it to ring, to light up with his name, to provide some explanation that would dissolve the worry creeping up her spine. But the screen remained dark and silent.
She thought about Jane. God, she missed Jane. Her best friend, her anchor, the person who’d known her longer than anyone else in this city. They hadn’t seen each other in days—almost two weeks or at least that is what it felt like, if she was honest with herself. Between Kyle, the nightclub gig, band rehearsals, and everything else pulling at her attention, the time had just... slipped away.
And wasn’t that how it always started? The slow drift. The gradual widening of distance between people who’d once been inseparable. Life got busy. Priorities shifted. You told yourself you’d make time next week, next month, and suddenly you looked up and realized years had passed.
Ella couldn’t let that happen. Not with Jane. She’d call her today, set up a coffee date, make the effort before the gap became too wide to bridge. Jane deserved better than to be forgotten in the chaos of Ella’s new life.
But first, she had rehearsal. The band was counting on her, and she’d already rehearsed a couple of times in the past week. They were working on new material for the next club performance, and her voice was the centerpiece. Missing a session this important would be unprofessional at best, career suicide at worst as they were still in the building stages.
This was her shot—the opportunity she’d been chasing for years—and she couldn’t let it slip through her fingers because her "boyfriend" went radio silent for one night.
Ella glanced at the clock: 11:47 AM. She’d slept later than usual, past her alarm, her body apparently deciding rest was more important than her carefully planned schedule. Rehearsal was at 2 PM across town, which meant she had just over two hours to shower, eat something, and get there.
She dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom, letting hot water wash away the lingering unease. This was her life now—unpredictable, exciting, terrifying in equal measure. A year ago, she’d been struggling to pay rent, playing dive bars for tips and free drinks, wondering if she’d ever catch a break. Now she was living with a wealthy man, performing at legitimate venues, building something that actually resembled a career.
She had no idea this was how her life would play out. Certainly never imagined she’d be sleeping with her best friend’s... whatever Kyle was to Jane. That guilt had left her chest but she needed to see Jane face-to-face, something she tried not to examine too closely because looking at it directly meant confronting choices she wasn’t ready to justify.
But she didn’t mind the rest of it. The music, the opportunities, the feeling that she was finally moving toward something instead of just treading water. Kyle had opened doors she couldn’t have opened herself, introduced her to people who actually mattered in the industry. Whatever else he was—whatever complicated web of relationships and secrets he maintained—he’d been good to her.
Which was why his silence bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
Ella dressed quickly: ripped jeans, band t-shirt, leather jacket. The uniform of someone who made music for a living, or at least aspired to. She grabbed her bag, checked her phone one more time—still nothing—and headed for the door.
The moment she pulled it open, her heart stopped.
Cleopatra stood in the hallway, perfectly still, perfectly composed, dressed in an elegant black suit that probably cost more than Ella’s entire wardrobe. Her sister. The woman she’d spent years trying to escape, trying to forget, trying to pretend didn’t exist in her new life.
Those eyes—so similar to Ella’s own, yet somehow infinitely colder—stared directly into her soul. Reading her. Dissecting her. Seeing everything Ella tried to hide.
"We need to talk," Cleopatra said, her voice silk over razors.
Ella’s hand tightened on the doorframe, every instinct screaming at her to slam the door, to run, to do anything except stand there frozen like prey caught in a predator’s gaze.
But she didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
Cleopatra had left her mansion a few hours ago after Isabeau had informed her about the current developments through a text message. Cleopatra understood the urgency behind that message.
Because when Cleopatra said "we need to talk," it was never a request.