Later that day, at the Bello mansion, Safeera Bello sat on her bedside, lost in thoughts. She was a young, beautiful woman in her early forties. Having just come out of the shower, her long black hair was still dripping, and she was wrapped in a silk bathrobe. Her mind was engrossed in a specific concern: I need someone who is capable of running things for me than leaving everything to my ungrateful employees.
She suddenly snapped back to reality when she heard a knock on the door. "You can come in," she called out.
Martha, the family maid in her twenties, walked into the room carrying a tray. "Madam, here's your tea," she said, placing it on the table next to Safeera.
"Thank you," Safeera replied. As Martha was about to leave, Safeera stopped her. "Hold on, your name was Martha, right?" Martha nodded in response. "If it was okay with you, I need your advice on something you see—" She hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "Or you know what? Never mind, you may leave."
"I'm glad to see I was of help to you, madam," Martha said, bowing before she exited the room.