“Is that all?”
“You should call her and-“
The line cut off.
“What?! Ah!” Ryan scoffed, unbelieving. “This good-for-nothing punk, did he… just hang up on me? Woah! Unbelievable.” He gritted his teeth, feeling like seeing him at that moment and ripping his skull apart. But he wasn’t too bothered. His love language is coldness and brutality; his marriage can’t last,” he said, shaking his head before dropping the phone.
The thrilling sound of insects, the birds chittering and chirping, and the breeze gently blowing the grasses were the only sounds that could be heard between father and son, who sat on the lounge, enjoying the cool breeze on their faces.
Arthur gently placed the hot cup of tea beside him and exhaled slowly.
“I’ve given you my answer,” he said.
“Dad, you can’t do this to me! You know how much I’ve invested, how much effort I’ve put into the company, and how prosperous it has become. It would only be a reward if you give it to me now. Imagine the respect I’d have, and the greater things I could accomplish,” Victor pleaded.
“You still have a lot to learn,” Arthur replied, picking up his cup again to take a sip.
“A lot to learn?” Victor chuckled softly. “I’ve learned a lot. I did everything you asked of me. I even got married so I could gain your approval.”
“And where’s your wife now?”
“We… we’re divorced.” Victor hated where the conversation was heading. “You know what she did, and that’s why I had to divorce her.”
“Is that what you’ll do to the company when it doesn’t go the way you want? Ditch it?”
“No! I’d never. These are two different things. Dad, I really need this.”
“And do you think you’re worthy of it?”
“What?! S… sure?”
“You can’t even be honest with yourself. How can you be honest with the company? My father did a great job building it, and I did an even greater job. I won’t let you ruin it.”
“Dad…”
“Prove you’re worthy of the shares, and I’ll give you every support you need,” Arthur said. He knew how desperate Victor was and had seen what he was capable of, which only gave him more reason not to hand over his grandfather’s shares. With Victor’s attitude and reputation, if he handed over the company to him then you’ll have to kiss your efforts goodbye,” Arthur said. “I’m going to keep giving you tasks that you can’t fulfill, and even if you do, I’ll give you another.”
“How else do you want me to prove that I’m worthy?” Victor asked, raising his voice.
“Get married.”
“What?”
“I’ll know you’re worthy of maintaining the company and have my full support in everything if you can maintain a happy and successful marriage,” Arthur stated.
“What?! Are you serious, Dad?”
“What? You can’t do that?”
Victor ruffled his hair, looking frustrated and displeased. “I can,” he said, his tone full of determination. He could see his father’s nonchalant glare, telling him he couldn’t do it. But Victor wanted to prove him wrong, and he knew there was a way to do that: he’d get married… to Alice.
“I will get married,” he told him, looking unbothered by Arthur’s challenge, who smirked in mockery in response.
Walking into the room as quietly as possible, she made sure not to make the tiniest sound as she tiptoed towards Clarisse, who was sleeping soundly on the bed. She hovered above her slowly, trying not to wake her up, and looked down at her. Clarisse looked so fragile and innocent, but that only fueled the hatred and resentment in Sandra’s heart. She gripped the hot kettle tighter by the handle, straightened up, and began pouring the extremely hot water down on Clarisse’s face.
Clarisse sprang up, screaming at the top of her lungs as the pain was excruciating. But Sandra didn’t stop pouring the hot water, and as the scream grew louder, Sandra grabbed a pillow to…
“Sandra!” a maid shouted her name, causing Sandra to jump.
“What?” she shouted back angrily. “You startled me!”
“That’s not my fault. You’re the one who zoned out and didn’t realize the water was already boiling,” the maid said, eyeing her before walking away.
Sandra rolled her eyes wearily and switched off the light. She had been so immersed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard the maid calling her. Her mind was filled with murderous thoughts. She had pleasured herself the previous night, unable to get Christian’s bare chest off her mind-his deep, hoarse voice and piercing grey eyes that felt like they wanted to rip her clothes apart. The feeling fueled her hatred even more and deepened her desperation to have him before anyone else did.
She grabbed the hot kettle by the handle and headed towards Clarisse’s room, holding it along with a cup. Her eyes burned with a murderous glare, and her steps were filled with determination to put Clarisse in her place. She knocked roughly on the door.
“Who’s that?”
She heard the sweet, tiny voice that was annoyingly grating to her ears ask.
“It’s me, Sandra,” she said in a harsh tone.
“Oh, Sandra, come in,” Clarisse permitted. Sandra entered, and Clarisse added, “You don’t have to knock,” as she placed the pillows back on the bed, having just arranged it.
“Good morning,” Clarisse greeted her with a smile, but Sandra replied coldly,
“Good morning, ma’am.”
Clarisse’s face dropped upon hearing the tone filled with coldness. “I’m sorry,” she apologized before she could stop herself.
“What… are you apologizing for?” Sandra asked, looking at her properly. As she did, she realized Clarisse didn’t look sick or ill in any way. That’s not possible, Sandra thought, her eyes widening in bewilderment.
“For overworking you,” Clarisse said in a low tone.
“Are you okay… ma’am?” Sandra asked, confused as she looked at Clarisse, who appeared healthy and not sick.
“Yes, I am. I know…”
“I thought you were the one who was rushed to the hospital?”
“Me? No, it was Blue.”
“Why?” Sandra asked, almost raising her voice but quickly composing herself. She began to look suspicious, though Clarisse didn’t seem to notice her odd attitude.
“Why… is she at the hospital?”
“The doctor said she abused some medicine that caused side effects.”
“Um…” Sandra began to stammer, unable to comprehend what was going on. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if she had given Blue the tea meant for Clarisse.
“I know you’re worried about her. Don’t worry, the doctor assured me that she’ll be okay,” Clarisse said to Sandra, hoping it would make her feel better.
“Than… thank you,” Sandra stammered. “I was so worried,” she lied.
“It’s okay,” Clarisse said, patting her shoulder. “And I hope you take good care of yourself. I was so worried and scared… it was all my fault.”
Whose fault is it then, bitch? Sandra cursed in her mind. It’s all your fault, she thought angrily.
“If I do anything wrong, please don’t hesitate to tell me, and I will apologize.”
“Sure,” Sandra replied, trying so hard to conceal her rage and hatred, which kept increasing. “Let me serve you some warm water, ma’am. It is medicinal if taken before eating anything in the morning.”
“Sure,” Clarisse replied, quickly holding the cup for her. She was dressed in a pink short nightgown, and her hair was roughly packed into a ponytail. She stood barefooted before Sandra, holding the cup.
Slowly, Sandra began to pour the hot water into the cup, and suddenly, she purposely poured it on Clarisse’s hand, causing her to drop the cup as she let out a scream.
“Ahhh!” Clarisse screamed, jumping back as the cup fell and shattered. The hot water also splashed onto her leg.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m so sorry, ma’am. I deserve to die. I’m so sorry,” Sandra continuously apologized as Clarisse screamed in agony, clutching her hand.
Christian flung the door open and rushed inside. He had just been heading out of his room and was getting ready to go to work when he heard her scream.
“What’s wrong, Ari?” he asked, rushing in, looking extremely worried. When he saw the state she was in, he nearly lost his mind.
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.