My father was seated in the living room, waiting for us. He had a serious expression, and his arms were crossed.
"Leslie, you’re finally ho," he said, looking at without a trace of warmth.
While I wasn’t expecting a warm welco when I ca ho, his current attitude made feel frightened. I quickly walked over and bowed my head, "Greetings, Father."
Morgan stepped forward, also feeling slightly frightened, "What’s wrong, Father?"
He completely ignored her and coldly stared at .
"Did you have fun on your trip?" he asked in a way that told he found sothing out.
I took a deep breath, doing my best to maintain my usual, "Leslie Moresi" expression. "What do you an, Father? While it was nice to experience a new place, I was very busy the entire ti."
Very busy in bed with Christian.
Morgan even laughed, "Just look at her, Father. She’s got dark circles under her eyes! It looks like she didn’t sleep all week.
I pretty much didn’t.
He looked in the eyes, then suddenly slamd a stack of photos down on the small table in front of us.
"THEN EXPLAIN THIS?!" he shouted.
There were at least a dozen photos of and Christian scattered across the table. All of them were taken from hidden angles and on different days. The photo on top was when Christian carried out of the hospital after we visited Roan.
My heart raced as I looked down at all of the photos.
Oh, fuck. I’m so done for.
The only thing keeping together was the year of dissociation I ’practiced’ over the year living as a part of this family. While I was looking at the photos, my father was closely watching .
Morgan picked up a few photos and scread, "YOU BITCH, YOU FUCKING WHORE! How could you do such a thing to ?! Christian is my fiancé! Explain yourself right now before I tear you apart!"
Her shrill screams echoed throughout the house, causing all of the servants to hide in fear.
"Morgan, lower your voice. You’re acting vulgar!" Our mother walked over to the table and picked up a few photos. She glanced up at , noticing my externally calm expression.
"This isn’t Leslie," she said in a calm voice.
Morgan spun around to look at her with bloodshot eyes, "What do you an it’s not her? It looks just like her!"
"Although this woman has Leslie’s features, it’s not her. I packed her luggage personally, and none of these clothes have ever been purchased for her," she explained.
Morgan took a closer look at the photos and realized that what my mother said was true. "What if she bought them there?"
Her hands were gripping the photo, looking for any clue that would give away that it was for certain. The entire ti, my father sat silently, watching closely.
"Do you have anything to say?" he finally asked .
I quietly looked up at him, my eyes eting his. "That person isn’t ."
Morgan walked over with shaky hands, "I don’t believe you! I think it’s you! I think you’re planning sothing behind my back!"
I turned to glance at her, "You’re welco to check my suitcases. See if what Mother said is true or not."
Morgan didn’t waste any ti and ran over to the entrance where my suitcases stood. She wheeled them over and opened them, dumping the contents on the floor in front of us.
I watched her as she dug through every piece of clothing inside, looking for any piece of clothing that matched any of the ones from the photos.
After a few minutes of digging in a maddened state, she turned to face . "If it wasn’t you, then who?! Tell ! You were supposed to keep others away from him!" she cried in a shrill voice.
Although none of the photos depicted kissing or any overly intimate poses, the photos did suggest closeness, especially the one where Christian was carrying .
"I wasn’t allowed out every ti Christian left, but I did get to et with soone who looks like , or so I’ve been told."
The room fell silent.
"Who?" my father finally asked. His brow was furrowed, and his hands were folded in front of his face.
"The Miss of the Amato Family," I finally said, looking down at the photos.
I finally bent over and picked up the photo that was buried at the bottom of the stack. "Here, you can see the close resemblance in this photo."
The photo was captured at the restaurant the day we went to et with Roan and Cherie. It was right as we left the restaurant, when Cherie jumped into Christian’s arms, hugging him. From the angle the photo was taken at, you could see standing a short distance away.
Morgan ripped the photo out of my hands, studying it closely. "She does look like you!"
Her eyes widened, but her hands shook. She looked like she was possessed, "Why didn’t you stop her?! You were right there!"
My father took the photo out of her hands and inspected it closely. "It isn’t her fault. They knew what they were doing. They’re sending us a ssage."
"Father! What do you an? I don’t understand!" cried Morgan. She was looking at him with a pleading expression.
"What I an is, Leslie would have no power to pull her away from him. Roan was sitting right there, and he allowed his daughter to approach Christian so intimately! They’re clearly telling us that they’ll stop at nothing to take Christian away!"
"No, no, no!" Morgan gripped the sides of her head. Her tears caused her makeup to run down her face, making her look a bit frightening.
I was becoming more and more irritated listening to her shrill cries. The exhaustion and stress completely took it out of . I felt like I was ready to pass out any mont.
I need to end this farce and get so sleep.
"Father. Her na is Cherie Amato. When we spoke, she seed to show great interest in Morgan, even asking to co stay with us for a short period of ti. Her father was there, so I agreed to her request."
The room went silent. Everyone turned to look at my father, waiting for his reaction. He sat silently, with his eyes closed, for a few minutes.
"Good." He finally said, nodding his head, "Bringing her to stay with us will allow her to see how well suited Morgan is for Christian. We will finally show the Amato family that we are not beneath them!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)