"I don’t see what’s so difficult," Isaac said with a roll of his eyes. "Organize a press conference. Say the truth about what happened― Emline assaulted him and the world deserves to know instead of pinning the bla on Alia and calling her a howrecker."
Ever since the day of the test result, Alia had returned to stay with her father, Dimitri, and Ronan at the latter’s house. It was a tight squeeze, and Alia had no choice but to sleep on a small mattress on the floor of her father’s room, but it was infinitely better than having the paparazzi waiting for her outside of Matteo’s apartnt.
Isaac had appeared more often, especially after hearing of Alia’s bouts of sickness. Her nausea ca in waves on and off, and this morning, Dimitri had requested he personally co over for a look at Alia’s health.
When Isaac offered his services previously, Alia had always declined. However, since she was trying to beat her body down into ashes, Dimitri thought to step in― under her father’s request, of course.
"It’s not that simple," Dimitri said as he flipped through the morning paper. "Maybe a press conference would’ve ant sothing when Matteo Montgory was still the CEO of X’el International. Right now, he is no better than a rich boy running around Sol City. And wealth without a source would also an he no longer has influence."
"And just because he holds a press conference doesn’t an the issue will be solved," Ronan pointed out. "The baby still exists in Emline’s growing belly. There are so fucked up people in this world who will still expect him to step up for a child he never signed up for."
"He also signed a non-disclosure with Emline, along with the contract that grants her legal immunity. For now, Matteo cannot do anything to Emline," Ronan continued.
"It just makes him look spineless," Isaac grumbled under his breath, huffing. "Poor Alia..."
"Why do you think I was so eager to leave the family ho?" Ronan said. "The politics within these upper social circles... Sotis, money doesn’t buy happiness. Either that, or I am not rich enough to afford it."
"But the rumors will never end," Isaac said. "As long as Emline is pregnant and for every day Matteo Montgory refuses to be with her, she will milk this situation for all its worth. And the person at the line of the fire would just be―"
All three n stopped talking when the door to Michael Kentwood’s room opened. Out stepped Alia, looking haggard as ever, her hair mimicking the look of a bird’s nest while dark circles colored the bags of her eyes.
She yawned, stretching her arms over her head before imdiately wincing, holding her waist tenderly.
While the apartnt wasn’t shabby in the slightest, it was still a tight fit with so many people living there. Her first few nights were alright — other than the inability to cry her heart out without disturbing her father — but after that, she began to feel the effects of the horrid mattress and the thin blankets.
However, there was no other choice. The room didn’t have enough space to squeeze a second bed in there. Dimitri had offered to get her a better set of pillows and blankets, but Alia had declined. She didn’t wish to impose more than she already was.
"Alia..." Ronan said, frowning. "You look..."
"Like shit," Isaac supplied. He stood to his feet, walking over to her. "How are you feeling? Dimitri ntioned you have been feeling nauseous the last couple of days."
"Better," Alia said.
Surprisingly, she didn’t feel her stomach churning this morning. Maybe it was because Aiden had allowed her to work from ho the last few days to get everything sorted out. Either way, she was grateful she didn’t have to leave the house.
She reached for the water jug placed on the dining table and poured herself a cup. In big gulps, she downed the entire glass before sighing loudly.
"Maybe I just needed so rest. I hadn’t been sleeping well ever since the wedding, and now that I finally have so rest, I just―"
The glass clanged loudly on the dining table as she rushed to the bathroom. Whatever she had drank was quickly evicted from her stomach, along with bile and acids that had been broiling there overnight.
"Shit," Isaac cursed under his breath right as Dimitri and Ronan stood up.
All three n hurried over to the toilet to find Alia hugging the bowl, her face inches away from the seat as she panted heavily.
"Napkin," Dimitri said, holding out a wad of tissues, which Alia reached for in her stupor.
She grabbed a handful and dabbed at her lips, muttering a word of thanks as Isaac sank to his knees beside her.
"No fever," he murmured under his breath, placing the back of his hand on her forehead and then her neck to test. "How’s your appetite recently?"
"Fine―"
"Odd," Dimitri and Ronan said at the sa ti. Dimitri continued, "She eats a lot sotis. Other tis, maybe just a mouth or two before leaving the dinner table. Michael has been fretting over it the last couple of als."
"I am fine!" Alia suddenly yelled, a burst of energy fueling her voice before she slumped back down. "It’s just been a tough couple of weeks. I just need to rest."
Isaac’s frown rely deepened before he stood up. At the sa ti, Michael’s head peeped into the washroom.
"What’s with the shouting?" he asked. Then, his eyes landed on his daughter. "Millie! What’s wrong? Is it your stomach again?"
"Mr. Kentwood," Isaac said, pulling Michael outside and out of Alia’s hearing range. When he was a good distance away, he whispered to Michael, "How would you say Alia’s emotional stability is growing up?"
"Fairly good," Michael replied, his eyebrows scrunching. "Why?"
"Would you say that she has been... oh I don’t know, experiencing mood swings lately?" Isaac continued.
Michael pursed his lips as he looked in the direction of the washroom. He sighed. "I won’t be surprised. It has been difficult for Millie ever since her divorce with that scumbag, between what happened with the Hawthornes and the Montgorys on top of her ssy separation with that Walton bastard."
Michael Kentwood all but spat out the three family nas as though they were poison on his tongue.
"What good have they done for my daughter other than drag her into this ss?"
Isaac’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. When the two n returned to the washroom, Alia was already sitting on the toilet with Dimitri and Ronan’s help, a wet towel in her hand which she used to wipe her face.
He had everyone leave the washroom and return to the living room before closing the door.
"Alia," Isaac started in a barely audible voice to ensure those outside couldn’t listen into their conversation, "I need you to be honest with . When was your last period?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)