Not even Laura could get into her room now.
“Whitney really doesn’t like anyone going into her room. How about we wait until she’s back and let her show you herself?” Lama suggested, trying to play it off lightly.
Patricia didn’t say anything more and simply waved her off. “Alright, go on upstairs. I’m tired. I’ll head to bed.”
Whitney arrived home around 10 PM, only to find April still awake.
“Grandma’s back?” Whitney asked, her heart racing.
April nodded calmly. “Yes, Mrs. Patricia Moore came home tonight. She’s already gone to bed.”
Whitney seethed internally, both furious and bitter.
Her grandmother was already 70, and they had dragged her back from the nursing home so late at night.
“Samuel is so intent on keeping me in line that he doesn’t even care about Grandma’s health anymore,” she thought, anger burning in her chest. “Where’s Dad? Is he still awake?”
April nodded. “He just got home; he probably hasn’t gone to bed yet.”
April glanced at Whitney, sensing the storm brewing in her eyes and worried she might stir up trouble tonight.
“Ma’am, maybe you should wait until tomorrow to deal with it,” April suggested softly.
Whitney’s eyes flashed with anger, but she nodded in agreement. “Fine.”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m settling every score,” Whitney promised herself, determination surging within her.
The night was long and restless for Whitney, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that refused to settle. As dawn broke and the clock struck six, she found herself wide awake, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders.
With a sense of urgency, she sent a quick message to her boss requesting the day off. After hitting send, she made her way to the kitchen, her heart racing as she filled a bucket with water. The task ahead was daunting, but she felt a surge of determination as she hoisted the bucket and trudged up the stairs.
When April spotted her, her eyes widened in astonishment. “Ma’am, what on earth are you doing?” she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern.
Whitney paused, her brow furrowing as she asked, “Is Grandma awake?”
April hesitated for a moment, weighing her words carefully before responding, “Yes, she’s awake. She’s taking her medicine.”
Whitney nodded, a mix of relief and anxiety washing over her. “I’m going to check on Grandma.”
As she entered the room, Patricia was just getting out of bed. Upon seeing Whitney’s distressed face, she furrowed her brow. “Whit, did you get back last night?” she inquired, her voice tinged with worry.
The redness around Whitney’s eyes told a story of sleepless nights and emotional turmoil. “Grandma, did he force you to come back?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.
Patricia felt a pang of sympathy for her granddaughter and motioned for Whitney to sit beside her. “Whit, he didn’t force me to do anything. I wanted to come back. Your dad’s not that heartless. He just has his priorities messed up, too obsessed with money.”
Whitney listened intently, her heart heavy. “I’ve been feeling pretty good these past few years, so it’s nice to be back here. Besides, those nursing home fees are sky-high. It’d be way too much for you to handle on your salary. I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”
“You said you didn’t want to get married, right? Well, I’m with you all the way, Whit. I promise I won’t ever be the one to hold you back.” Patricia’s eyes softened as she spoke, trying to reassure Whitney.
Whitney felt a sting in her chest. “Grandma, I can’t just let this go. No matter what happens upstairs, please stay down here, okay?” she insisted. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m not his puppet. He can’t push me around.”
Patricia wanted to intervene, to protect her granddaughter from the inevitable storm brewing, but she knew she had to let Whitney stand her ground. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she thought, ‘As long as Whitney is standing up for herself, I’ll support her. No matter what trouble she stirs up, I’ll always have her back.’
*****
Whitney wiped her tears away, determination flooding her as she approached her father and stepmother’s bedroom. Her heart raced as she banged on the door, the sound echoing through the hallway.
Samuel had just returned home from a late-night business dinner, exhaustion etched across his face. The noise jolted him awake, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Who is it?” he snapped, rolling over in annoyance.
Laura stirred beside him, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Who the hell has the guts to wake us up this early?” she muttered under her breath.
When Laura finally opened the door, her expression shifted from groggy to furious. But before she could unleash her wrath, Whitney doused her with the bucket of water, soaking her from head to toe.
“Ahh!” Laura shrieked, shock coursing through her as she blinked, trying to comprehend the scene before her. It was Whitney, standing defiantly at the door.
“Whitney, have you lost your mind?” Laura snapped, her voice laced with disbelief.
Whitney scoffed, her anger propelling her forward. She hurled the remaining water straight at her father, who was still groggy in bed. “I’m not the crazy one here, but you two are,” she shot back. “I said I’d pay for Grandma’s nursing home fees. So what was the point of sneaking her back behind my back? Did you think you could threaten me?”
The icy water shocked Samuel awake, leaving him soaked and shivering, disbelief etched on his face. He couldn’t fathom that his eldest daughter would dare to confront him like this.
His expression darkened, fury igniting within him. “Whitney, do you even realize what you’re doing?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Whitney lifted her chin defiantly, her voice steady. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m here to knock some sense into you, you ungrateful and shameless bastards.”
Samuel shot up from the bed, rage fueling his movements as he stormed toward her, ready to retaliate. But Whitney was prepared; she snatched a vase from the side table and raised it high above her head. “Lay a finger on me, and your precious vase will be gone,” she warned, her eyes blazing with determination.
Samuel’s gaze locked onto the vase, his veins bulging with anger. “Whitney, what the hell do you think you’re doing? If you dare smash that vase, you’re out of the house for good.”
Whitney laughed mockingly, the sound echoing off the walls. “Oh yeah? Then go ahead and write that letter cutting me off. If you don’t, I’ll just think you’re all talk.”
With that, she brought the vase crashing down at Samuel’s feet, the shards scattering across the floor like broken dreams.
For a fleeting moment, Samuel felt as if his heart had stopped. “You… well, well, you really think you can do whatever you want now, huh?” he roared, his voice filled with disbelief and fury.
Whitney smirked, her lips curling in defiance. “Is this another one of your precious treasures?”
Samuel clutched his chest, agony etched on his face. “Don’t break it.”
Before he could even finish his plea, Whitney slammed the vase down hard at Laura’s feet, the sound reverberating through the room.
“Let me make this clear: I’m taking Grandma with me today. Try to stop me, and every antique you own is getting smashed until there’s nothing left,” Whitney warned, her expression fierce.
With a smirk, she added, “Want to call me a brat, huh? Sorry, I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”
Samuel stared at the shattered pieces on the floor, his heart aching. He didn’t even register that his clothes were still dripping wet.
“She’s crazy. Totally crazy,” Laura muttered, her mind racing as she tried to process the chaos unfolding before her.
“Samuel, your daughter’s gone crazy. Did you see her eyes just now? She looked like she was ready to tear us apart,” Laura shrieked, her panic evident.
“No way, Whitney can’t ever come back here. And you, you need to send your mother packing too. Neither of them is ever setting foot in this house again,” Laura demanded, her voice rising in desperation.
“What if next time she’s got a knife in her hand instead of a vase?” Laura blurted out, still shaken to her core by Whitney’s intensity.
Samuel’s face flushed with anger and then turned pale, while outside, a few nervous servants gathered, exchanging bewildered glances as they witnessed the chaos from a distance.
Samuel choked on his fury. “What are you all standing around for? Get in here and clean this mess up!” he barked, his voice echoing through the house.
*****
Whitney strolled downstairs, an air of confidence surrounding her as she helped her grandma prepare for breakfast.
Patricia had heard the commotion upstairs, the sounds of chaos reverberating through the house, but she chose to remain calm. She turned to April, a knowing smile on her face. “Did Whit come out on top?”
April shot Patricia a look of disbelief, her eyes wide. “Pretty much, yeah.”
A sigh of relief escaped Patricia’s lips as she settled into her breakfast, not probing further into the situation.
When Samuel and Laura finally descended the stairs, they exchanged cautious glances with Whitney, a newfound wariness evident in their expressions.
“Mom, Whitney’s always been scared of you. Aren’t you going to do something about her?” Samuel snapped, his face contorted with rage.
If circumstances had been different, he might have slapped her right then and there, but the impending wedding into the Harris family restrained him.
Patricia took a measured sip of her porridge, her demeanor calm. “If I can’t even keep my own son in line, what makes you think I can control my granddaughter?” she replied, her words cutting through the tension.
Samuel was left speechless, completely thrown off by her response.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.