Old LILLIAN

LEXI

"You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Miss Jasmine Stephenson." One of the cops' voices echoed in my ears, causing me to blink incessantly. I thought I had a problem with my ears.

"What!" My brows creased and my face squished as I exclaimed. This isn't true. I must have heard wrong, right? I darted my stare over to Ryan, and I saw him standing by the door with no iota of guilt or conscience in his eyes. All I saw was hatred and the thirst for revenge.

"I didn't do it, Ryan. I didn't push her. She jumped into the pool herself. I haven't even touched her," I confessed, sauntering closer to him with my hands tightly cuffed. The last thing I wanted to believe was that my husband would arrest me because of his girlfriend.

"That girl is in critical condition right now because of you. She is battling with her life in the hospital right now. How can you be this wicked? I gave you an opportunity, and you misused it. Well, I don't expect less from a poor, covetous leech like you. Take her fucking ass away," he ordered, spitting into my face. My hands fell helplessly when I saw that there wasn't a bit of emotion for me in his eyes. He had made up his mind. He was going to get me arrested, and not even my pleas would waft into his ears.

"That bitch, Jasmine. How did someone who stuck her tongue out end up in a critical condition? I must have underestimated her skills, and that was the reason I fell into her trap. I was such a fool."

The tears I refused to shed in front of him at the cuisine streamed out uncontrollably. I was hurting inwardly, and it felt as if thousands of needles were being pierced into my heart. I felt a lump clogging my throat, and the struggle to cry out loud was adding to my misery.

"Ask Jasmine, Ryan. Ask her. She jumped into the pool herself. I didn't do that," I muttered in between my tears. My voice was raspy and croaky. Still, he refused to give me a listening ear. The cops promoted me to start moving.

While I was walking away, my eyes fell on Isabelle, who was sleeping peacefully, and I decided to use her against Ryan. He only hated me; he doesn't joke with his daughter.

"What about Isabelle? Who is going to take care of her while I am away? I promise you that nothing is going to happen to Jasmine. She will be fine. She's just pretending." I continued talking, hoping that it would work, but it was futile. The more he heard Jasmine's name, the angrier he became.

"She's my daughter. I will take care of my daughter. I don't want a desperate criminal like you beside my child," he let out with clenched teeth, seething with anger. "Get her out of here right now," he growled.

With harshness, the cops prodded me with their hands as we strolled down the stairs. They were also slowly losing their patience.

As expected, Emily and Mrs. Zoe were standing by the door with their arms folded. On their faces were mocking expressions. As soon as their eyes fell on me, they both erupted into peals of laughter.

"A murderer," Emily spurted out in between her laughter, clapping her hands.

"A desperate leech," Mrs. Zoe muttered as I walked closer to where they were standing. Just as I got to the door, she ordered in an authoritative tone, "Stop right there." My footsteps halted at the reverberation of her voice. Chuckling, she stood in front of me and leaned her head forward so that she could take a full glimpse of my face.

"Your face is so irritating and makes me nauseous. I hope you rot in there and never return. I don't even know why Mother chose you for my son, but I doubt she did that in her right sanity. You must have used something on mother," Mrs. Zoe accused; her voice was hoarse and filled with hatred. There was still something I failed to understand: why does everyone hate me in that house? Aside from my grandmother, who was the reason I married Ryan, nobody else loves me in that house, including my husband. Was it that bad to be poor? Are paupers not humans?

"Mrs. Zoe, you have to believe me. I didn't do it. She fell into the pool by herself." I stuttered in a croaky voice, blinking, and the tears rolling out of my eyes increased. I knew Mrs. Zoe wouldn't believe me, but I had no choice. Just maybe. Just maybe she could be the best mother-in-law.

She giggled and moved her mouth closer to my left ear, then she whispered, "Everyone knows that you didn't do it, but nobody wants you here. We all want you to rot in jail since you refused to get out of our lives." My body stiffened at her utterance, forcing me to glare into her eyes. My eyes had turned bloodshot due to excessive and uncontrollable cries. I was speechless. How much do these people really hate me? And there was nobody to support or help me. I had nobody.

Her lips formed into a sly smile, and she nodded her head. "I might be benevolent enough to bring your daughter to you tomorrow. We will not take care of the bastard you claim is my son's child. But I hope you will never step a foot into this house again." She said, patted me softly on the shoulder, and leaned her head backward. She flashed a fake, forced smile at me and waved her hands in my face.

"Take this filthy thing away," she ordered, her smile swiftly turning into a frown. "You will be in trouble if that innocent dies at the hospital," she shouted, her voice trailing me as I hopped on the cops' van and they drove away.

*

I was thrown into the cell without hearing my part of the story. I guessed that was the power of money and status in the country.

"You are the bitch who assaulted the fiancée of the Middleton, right?" The inspector in the police station asked, and I couldn't help but scoffed. "That's funny," I let out in a low voice, but the inspector could hear what I said clearly.

"I think you still have the mouth to talk back at me because you haven't been tortured. Let's see if you will be able to talk by morning." The inspector threatened in a cold voice, swaying an irritating gaze over me.

I smirked inwardly. My life was really a mess. My own husband called the cops on me over a crime I didn't commit, and some people still have the audacity to call Jasmine his fiancee in front of me.

"Phew... Your life sure sucks," I mumbled, blinking back the tears that were struggling to come out of my eyes. I was hurt. A lump of tears clogged my throat. If I had the power, I was going to leave the Middleton family, but I was powerless. I had nowhere to go.

Maybe it would have been easy if it was just me. Maybe I would have worked away if Isabelle, my daughter, wasn't in the picture, but hell no. I cannot leave my daughter alone. Ryan would take her away from me if I should succumb to his torture and sign the divorce papers like he wanted. I don't want to be away from my daughter. She is my life.

"Who gave you all the audacity to lock my daughter-in-law up?" The voice of Old Lillian, Ryan's grandmother, wafted into my ears, jerking me out of my myriad of pathetic thoughts. My eyes widened with renewed hope, and I sprang up, holding the cell gate, "Grandmother!" I shouted, tears lingering in my lids.

The inspector and the remaining cops in the room stood up when they sighted the old woman. Everyone knew her. Old Lillian is popular in the business world and outside of it.

"Old Lillian, excuse me, ma. Why have you...?" The inspector approached her with a smile. Before he could complete his statement, Old Lillian snapped at him rudely, "Are you the bastard who ordered them to lock my daughter-in-law up? Who are you? What's your name? What's your rank?" She questioned defensively, anger vivid in her eyes and rolling as fireballs.

The inspector was taken aback briefly.

"I... We.. Mr. Ryan reported her, and we only have to..." Again, she cut him short with her authoritative yell.

"Would you shut the crab? I just warned you not to talk when I'm talking. Do you have a death wish? Don't you love your job anymore? Do you wish to narrate a story with your job?" She spat in his face, causing the remaining cops to move back in fear. They knew the status of the woman in their office, and they would only be scheming their downfall if they tried to exchange words with her. Since the Inspector was unfortunately the scapegoat, they took steps backward cowardly and paid attention to the scene unfolding.

Beads of sweat broke over the inspector's forehead; he swallowed hard as he gaped into Old Lillian's terrifying eyes. "I..." He stuttered, scared to the bones.

"Are you a fool? You only have one assignment to do. Order her release immediately." The woman commanded with an unwavering gaze and stern tone.

"Ye... Ye... Yes. Release her right now," the inspector shouted.