TERESA’S P.O.V.
The phone buzzed again, slicing through the stillness of the room like a blade. I stared at the screen, the na glowing back at : Dad. My fingers trembled as I hovered over the answer button.
Lucian’s hand brushed mine, warm and steady, grounding in the mont. "You don’t have to answer it," he murmured, his voice calm but firm. His blank eyes, though unseeing, seed to pierce right through . "It’s your choice."
I swallowed hard. "I need to," I whispered, more to myself than him.
I pressed the green button, my breath hitching as I lifted the phone to my ear. "Hello?" My voice sounded smaller than I intended, almost childlike, betraying the storm of emotions brewing inside .
"Teresa," ca my father’s voice, rough yet calculating. "It’s been a long ti."
I froze, the heaviness of his tone pressed against my chest. mories flooded back—his harsh words, the endless disappointnts, the nights I cried myself to sleep. I gritted my teeth and found my voice, though it wavered. "Why are you calling ?"
"I saw the news," he said smoothly, ignoring the bite in my tone. "Congratulations. It’s impressive what you’ve accomplished. I must say, I’m proud of you."
I almost laughed, but the sound got stuck in my throat. "Proud of ?" I echoed, bitterness seeping into my words. "After everything you did to us?"
He didn’t falter. "I want to make things right, Teresa. I realize now I was wrong. Perhaps we can start over—rebuild our relationship. Maybe your... husband-to-be could help us nd things too."
There it was. The real reason for his call.
My heart sank, and my stomach churned. I glanced at Lucian, whose head tilted slightly, his sensitive ears undoubtedly picking up on the call and the change in my deanor. He didn’t speak, but the tension in his jaw told he was listening carefully.
"You’ve got to be kidding ," I said, my voice trembling but growing louder with each word. "I can’t believe after all these years—after all the pain you caused—it’s today you choose to apologize, all because you saw in the news? You’re unbelievable, Dad. And greedy. Lucian and I aren’t giving you a damn thing."
His tone darkened. "Teresa, do you think you can just forget where you ca from? Even if Lucian has publicly claid you as his girlfriend, that doesn’t an you deserve it. Don’t forget, it’s because of you t Lucian in the first place. It should’ve been Jennifer or Sarah in your shoes right now."
I sucked in a sharp breath, his words hitting like a slap.
"And besides," he continued, his voice taking on a smug edge, "for you to be able to grab the attention of a man like Lucian Blackwood, it’s all because of the values I instilled in you."
I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and humorless. "You didn’t teach anything except how to endure pain."
His voice turned sharp, the facade of kindness crumbling. "Don’t talk to like that, girl. You still answer my na. And as your father, I deserve respect... and maybe so gratitude. Your husband should help his soon-to-be father-in-law, don’t you think?"
My throat tightened, the bile rising as his words dripped with entitlent. I opened my mouth, but before I could respond, Lucian’s hand gently brushed against mine.
"Put the phone on speaker," he said softly, his tone steady but laced with quiet authority.
"Lucian, you don’t have to—"
"Teresa." His lips quirked into a small, humorless smile. "I want to speak to him."
Reluctantly, I pressed the speaker button. The room seed to grow colder as he shifted closer to the phone in my hand, his presence commanding even in the silence.
"You’re mistaken if you think Teresa owes you anything," Lucian began, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "She is where she is in spite of you, not because of you. If you want sothing, speak to directly."
There was a pause on the other end before my father responded, his mock sincerity barely hiding the venom beneath. "Ah, Lucian. I was rely trying to reconnect with my daughter. No harm in that, is there?"
"If you truly care," Lucian replied, his tone still asured but deadly calm, "let her heal without your interference. But if you try to take advantage of her again, I’ll make sure you regret it."
"Watch your tone, boy," my father snapped, his false charm dissolving entirely. "You don’t scare anymore. You wouldn’t want revealing so... family secrets, would you?"
Lucian didn’t flinch. "Try ."
I watched him, my chest tightening as the room seed to hold its breath. The silence stretched, tense and suffocating, before my father spoke again, his voice dripping with malice.
"Don’t be too cocky, Blackwood. Teresa’s just like her mother—a cheap whore."
The words struck like a physical blow, and I felt the phone slip from my hand, clattering onto the floor. My vision blurred as my father’s voice echoed in my ears, each word more hateful than the last as it kept coming through from the Shattered device on the floor.
"I do hope those children you flaunt around are really yours, Blackwood," he sneered. "And Teresa... she’s ungrateful. That’s why people say never to take in another man’s children."
The line went dead, but the damage was done.
I gasped, my chest heaving as the weight of his final words settled over . My mind raced, the implications of his statent hitting like a freight train. What did he an? Another man’s children?
"Teresa?" Lucian’s voice was soft, his hand reaching for mine. "Teresa, breathe."
I couldn’t. My entire body felt like it was unraveling, the ground shifting beneath .
Lucian pulled into his arms, holding tightly as if trying to piece back together. "I’m here," he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. "Whatever he ant, we’ll figure it out. If you want, I can get the answers you need out of him with just one command, so please my love, breath, I’m here."
I clung to him, my tears soaking his shirt as my father’s words threatened to crush .
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