Chapter 3

Marcus's POV

I saw fear in her eyes, the glimmer of terror reflecting at me.

Tears cascaded down her face, each droplet a testament to her anguish.

She stood frozen in place, lost and disoriented amidst the chaos.

As I approached her, her eyes remained fixated on mine, searching for answers or perhaps seeking solace.

Kneeling on one knee, I gently held her chin, studying her face intently, trying to decipher the turmoil within.

"Why are you crying?" I asked, a hint of amusement dancing in my eyes as if I found her distress somewhat entertaining.

Lillian swallowed hard, her gaze never wavering from my face.

"Are you going to tell Dad?" she asked, her voice filled with fear as if her entire fate depended on my response.

A chuckle escaped my lips, amused by the desperation in her voice.

Lillian hung onto my every word, as if it were a lifeline, desperately hoping I would spare her from her father's wrath.

Using my thumb, I brushed away the tears that had fallen onto her cheeks, momentarily soothing her anguish.

Studying her face once more, I leaned in closer, my voice low and measured.

"I'll think about it, Lillian," I said, maintaining my gaze upon her, prolonging her torment.

Fear etched itself deeper into her expression, her voice barely a whisper.

"No... please," she begged, her eyes pleading with me, but I only smiled and stood up.

I was about to turn away when she knelt on the ground, disregarding the discomfort of grass and stones against her knees.

I furrowed my brow, taken aback by the sight of the mighty Lillian Hawthorne humbling herself before me.

I had never expected her to sink so low, to plead in such a manner.

"Don't tell Dad, please," she pleaded, fresh tears streaming down her face.

"I'll do anything you want, just don't tell Dad," she continued, rubbing her palms together anxiously.

She appeared completely different from the Lillian I once knew, no longer the perfect president's daughter.

Exhaling deeply, I reached out and gently took her elbow, helping her stand.

Bending down, I wiped away the dust and dirt from her knees, guilt tugging at me as I saw the redness caused by her kneeling.

Straightening up, I faced her, a weighty silence settling between us.

"You'll do anything?" I asked, my eyes locked with hers.

Lillian nodded without hesitation, her determination clear.

"What are you doing here, Lillian?"

Lillian flinched at the sound of her father's voice, and when I turned, I saw Gabriel and my mother standing there.

"What are you two doing here?" my mother inquired, her gaze shifting between me and Lillian.

"I just wanted to get some fresh air, Mom," I replied, maintaining my focus on Lillian.

"But I happened to see something interesting in your pool, Dad," I said, holding Lillian's gaze.

Her eyes widened, silently begging me to stop, but I merely smiled and turned to Gabriel, who wore a puzzled expression.

"You have a majestic view of the moon from the pool area," I blurted out, causing Gabriel to burst into laughter, taken aback by my unexpected comment.

Gabriel turned his gaze toward the moon and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I agree, son," he said, his laughter subsiding.

"Let's go inside," he suggested his attention now on Lillian.

"Lillian, we need to talk," he added, his tone tinged with tension and anger.

Lillian swallowed hard, nodding in response.

"Yes, Dad," she replied nervously.

As we made our way into the house, an air of unease enveloped us.

Once in the living room, we settled on the couch, with my mother and Gabriel seated together while Lillian and I sat across from them, keeping a distance.

"Why didn't you join us for dinner?" Gabriel inquired, his gaze fixed on Lillian, his effort to suppress his anger palpable.

My mother gently held his hand, attempting to calm him down.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Lillian replied, her head bowed in submission.

My eyes remained fixed on her, aware of the fear emanating from her every pore.

"What is happening to you, Lillian?" Gabriel pressed, his frustration evident.

Lillian shook her head, keeping her gaze lowered, avoiding her father's eyes.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Gabriel demanded, his voice reverberating through the room, causing Lillian to flinch.

"Gabriel," my mother interjected, trying to soothe his anger, but he was too furious to be soothed.

Lillian looked up at her father, tears streaming down her face, struggling to find her voice.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she managed to say, her words laden with a mix of guilt and desperation.

Gabriel sighed deeply, his gaze locked onto his daughter's face.

"I don't want this to happen again, do you understand me, Lillian?" he asked sternly.

Lillian obediently nodded, her fear still evident in her tone.

"Yes, Dad," she replied politely, her voice tinged with fear.

"Go to your room," Gabriel commanded, his anger simmering.

Lillian nodded without a word, no questions asked, and made her way to her room.

Once she was gone, Gabriel turned to me, his expression apologetic.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that. Lillian isn't always like this. Perhaps she's having a difficult time accepting the way things have turned out, but I'll talk to her," he said, his eyes still filled with remorse.

I simply nodded, accepting his apology.

"It's fine," I responded, signalling an end to the conversation.

"I have to go," I added, preparing to leave, but my mother spoke up.

"It's already late. You should spend the night here, Marcus," she suggested, her eyes filled with hope.

I glanced at her, realizing she held onto the idea that we could be one happy family. Yet, I couldn't accept the thought of calling that corrupt official my family.

Gabriel chimed in, urging me to stay.

"Your mom is right. It's too dangerous to drive at this hour. You should sleep here," he insisted, leaving me no choice but to agree.

"Okay," I said, and upon hearing my agreement, a smile graced my mother's lips.

"Martha," Gabriel called, and a woman appeared after a moment.

"Yes, sir?" she politely inquired.

"Prepare Marcus' room," he instructed, and Martha nodded.

"Good night, then," I bid them farewell, standing up.

"Good night, son," Gabriel replied, and my mother approached, kissing me on the cheek.

"Good night, Marcus," she said, her smile unwavering.

I simply nodded and followed Martha as she led the way.

After a few minutes of walking, we reached a door at the end of the right-wing. Martha stopped and turned to me, her face filled with politeness.

"This will be your room, sir," she said, opening the grand white door.

Stepping inside, I scanned the room, taking in its cleanliness and simplicity.

"It looks clean. I'm fine with it," I stated, content with the arrangement.

"Are you sure, sir?" Martha asked, seeking confirmation.

"Just call me if you need anything," she offered.

"Just call me Marcus," I corrected her, desiring a more familiar address.

Martha smiled, nodding in understanding, and was about to leave when a lingering question escaped from my lips.

"Alexander Montgomery," I uttered, perplexing Martha.

"How long has he known Lillian?" I asked, seeking clarity.

Martha appeared confused by the question.

"He has known Lillian since the day she was born. Alexander is like a second father to her," she revealed.

"Is that all?" I probed, unsatisfied with her answer.

"Lillian isn't perfect, despite what they claim. She makes mistakes and poor decisions at times. She's only human, after all. We all have our skeletons in the closet, don't we?" Martha mused, her gaze fixed on me.

So, she knew?