Chapter 3

Dianna pressed her hands to her chest, taken aback by the unexpected tension. 

She opened the door to find Clinton standing there, still in his wedding suit. Their eyes briefly locked before his gaze dropped to her pajamas. 

“Why are you still awake? Is there something you need?” she asked, attempting to keep her voice steady. 

His eyes lingered on her outfit, and she noticed a flicker of a feeling—anger or maybe sorrow. “Why are you wearing your sister's clothes?” he questioned, his voice icy.

“Hey, please stop it. I’m not wearing her clothes,” Dianna quickly refuted, feeling a lump rise in her throat. 

His face set into a hard expression. “What do you mean? Do you think I'm dumb? First, you took her family, and now you’re taking her shirts?” The accusation hit hard, and tears began to form in her eyes. 

“What are you trying to say? The clothes are mine,” she shot back, raising her voice as she met his stare. For an instant, his eyes left the fabric, locking onto hers, revealing confusion and anger. “Daphne's belongings are still in your wardrobe,” she clarified. 

Before he could reply, Dianna slammed the door shut, leaning against it as the tears finally flowed. The heaviness of his words weighed on her, and she let the tears stream down her face, her shoulders trembling as she slid down to the floor. 

Waking up the following morning on the floor by the door left her body sore. Her eyes felt heavy and her face was swollen from crying. 

After a soothing bath and getting dressed, Dianna felt a spark of excitement; she was going to pick up Phillip from her mother. 

Stepping out of her room, she found the house silent. Not thinking much of it, she headed to the kitchen to make herself something. 

Finding nothing substantial to eat, she opted for a chilled Ice-cream and pop-corn, knowing she needed a boost. 

When she arrived at her mum's place, she discovered it was deserted. Pulling out her phone, she called her mother. After several rings, her mum finally answered. 

“Yes, who is on the line?.” Her mother replied, not bothering to check who was calling. 

“Mum, it's me. It’s Dianna. I came to get Phillip, but neither of you is here,” Dianna explained. 

“So sorry, an urgent work call came up. You can come to the office to get him,” her mother said. 

“Mum, you….” Dianna started to protest, but her mother interrupted her. 

“There is no more time for excuses, Dianna. You either come to the office for him, or I’ll have Clinton come pick him up.” Without pausing for a response, her mother hung up. 

With no choice left, Dianna knew she had to go to the company. Though she disliked the attention there, she had to obey. 

With a resigned sigh, she called a cab and gave the driver the address. 

As they traveled through the city, the Aaron's Crystal Corporation, its name boldly displayed on the facade, loomed large and elegant—a testament to her mum’s dedication and hard work. 

Dianna’s mind wandered to her father, the man whose wisdom she cherished. He had been her closest confidant and source of strength. His absence still hurts, creating a void in her heart. She missed him immensely and yearned to see him one last time. 

She gazed at the towering building with a bittersweet smile. “Your dreams really came true, Dad. I honestly wish you could see it,” she whispered gently, hoping he could hear her wherever he may be.

“Ma'am, we’ve finally reached our destination,” the driver’s voice interrupted her reverie. Blinking away tears, she hurriedly wiped her cheeks, reminding herself to pull herself together before entering the building.

“Okay, thank you,” she softly said, handing the driver his payment before stepping out of the cab. Taking a deep breath, she made her way into the building.

As Dianna walked into the lobby, her eyes roamed over the busy scene.

Individuals in sharp suits moved with intent, and the air was filled with the scent of coffee and fresh paper.

She went up to the receptionist. “Hello, good morning.” She said with a courteous smile. The receptionist looked up from her computer, her fingers pausing mid-typing as her gaze fell on Dianna.

Her eyes widened, as if she had seen a specter, a moment of confusion flitting across her face. “Ma’am Dap….Dap... Daphne?” she stammered.

“Dianna.” Dianna corrected her, though she wasn’t surprised by the response. It was easy to confuse her with her sister, especially since she seldom visited her mother’s workplace.

“Alright. I’m here to see my mum,” Dianna added, but the receptionist continued to look bewildered.

Rather than wait for her to gather her wits, Dianna walked toward the elevator.

She took the elevator up to the top floor, where her mother’s office was. The doors slid open, revealing Clinton standing tall in the hallway; Phillip was perched on one arm, cheerfully poking at Clinton’s face while listening to her mum.

As Dianna approached, Clinton's eyes flickered from her mother to her and lingered longer than she anticipated. She hadn’t expected to see him here. “Hello Mum,” she greeted and embraced her. “But you shouldn’t have called him; I was going to come collect Phillip,” she said.

“I needed to talk to you about something,” her mother responded, gesturing to her secretary, who was carrying Phillip.

They stepped into her mother’s office, which had a subtle scent of vanilla candles, and took a seat.

Her mother took an envelope and handed it to Clinton. “This is my wedding gift to you both.”

Clinton opened it, and his jaw tightened. “UH??? This isn’t really necessary, Lois,” he said sharply, not bothering to look at Dianna. “There’s too much work to do; it’s not the right moment for all these.”

“It is the right moment,” her mother insisted, disregarding Clinton’s tone. “You have more responsibilities now, and you haven’t spent any time with your new wife yet. Once you’re back from the honeymoon, you won’t have time for yourself.”

Honeymoon? With Clinton? That was the last thing Dianna needed right now. The thought made her stomach churn. They could barely be in the same room, let alone enjoy a romantic getaway.

Clinton tossed the envelope onto the desk, and Dianna picked it up. Inside were two tickets to Gobe Lounge. “Mum, Ohh Nooo!” she started, placing the tickets down, “you have really pushed too far and got things your way. But this...this is excessive.”

She felt Clinton’s gaze on her before he redirected it back to her mother, his expression becoming more severe.

“It’s what newlyweds do. They go on their honeymoon after their wedding.”

“I disagree! Dianna and I's wedding was different. It wasn’t for love, so there’s no need for a honeymoon,” he replied coldly as he rose and headed for the door.

Just before he exited, he turned back, his tone becoming more serious. “I'm still looking into the circumstances surrounding Daphne's death, and I can't have anything jeopardizing it.”

“Daphne...she died in an accident,” Dianna countered, her voice almost a whisper. That had always been the official verdict. It was all they knew.

“No, Daphne didn't die in an accident,” he countered, meeting her gaze. “She was killed.”