Chapter 87

Chapter 87

 Sara’s Point of View

The room was heavy with a silence that bordered on suffocating. The air felt stagnant, a mixture of anger and frustration that seemed to press down on me like an invisible weight. I sat on the edge of the couch, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

Max had walked out not too long ago, leaving my mother and me with the faintest hint of hope that we had planted the seeds of doubt in his mind. Yet, his hesitation still stung. He should have believed us outright trusted us. But no, he had to think it over, and that was unacceptable.

“This isn’t over,” my mother muttered, her tone sharp as she paced in front of me. “Maximilian is just being stubborn. He’ll come around. He has to.”

I nodded stiffly, though my mind was elsewhere. My chest burned with a mix of fury and humiliation. That woman Eva always had a way of turning people against me. Why couldn’t Max see it? Why couldn’t anyone see it?

Before I could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. My head snapped toward the door just as it swung open, revealing my father, William Brown. His face was as hard as stone, his eyes filled with a cold fury that made my stomach churn.

“Dad,” I started, standing quickly, trying to gauge his mood. But the look he gave me stopped me in my tracks.

His gaze flicked to my mother, who had also frozen mid-step. “So this is what it’s come to,” he said, his voice low and biting.

“What are you talking about?” my mother asked, though her tone lacked its usual confidence.

He stepped further into the room, the door clicking shut behind him with an ominous finality. “Don’t play dumb with me, Emelia. The articles, the headlines—they’re everywhere. Do you have any idea what kind of damage this is doing to the family name?”

I bristled at his tone, feeling a spark of defiance rise within me. “Those articles are fake, Dad!” I said quickly, stepping forward. “They’re just another one of Eva’s schemes to ruin me. She...”

“Enough!” His voice boomed, cutting me off. The room fell silent again, the weight of his anger pressing down on me.

I swallowed hard, my words dying on my tongue as his cold gaze locked onto mine.

“Do you really think I’m stupid, Sara?” he asked, his tone quieter now but no less harsh. “Do you think I don’t know the kind of games you and your mother play? Don't you dear blame Eva for this because she is nothing like you.”

“Dad, it’s not like that...”

“It’s exactly like that,” he interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve always been the same, Sara. Always looking for someone else to blame, always trying to manipulate your way out of the consequences of your actions.”

I flinched at his words, a wave of shame washing over me despite my growing anger. “That’s not fair,” I muttered, my voice trembling.

“Fair?” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You think life is supposed to be fair? Look around you, Sara. Everything you’ve built is crumbling because of your own choices. And now you want to point fingers at Eva? Again?”

“She’s the one causing all this!” I burst out, unable to hold back any longer. “She’s the one who came back and started stirring up trouble. You don’t understand”

“I understand perfectly,” he snapped, his voice like ice. “I understand that you’re reaping what you sowed.”

His words hit me like a slap to the face, leaving me momentarily stunned. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. My mother stepped forward, her hand outstretched as if to calm him.

“William, don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Sara’s been under a lot of pressure lately. She....”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, holding up a hand to silence her. “Don’t try to defend her, Emelia. You’re just as much to blame for this mess as she is.”

Her face hardened at his words, her usual composure slipping as anger flashed in her eyes. But she didn’t respond, perhaps sensing that arguing with him would be futile.

I took a shaky breath, my chest tightening as I struggled to regain my footing. “Dad, please. Just listen to me,” I pleaded, my voice trembling. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Those articles...”

“Are a reflection of who you’ve become,” he cut me off, his tone cold and unyielding. His sharp words sliced through me like a blade. “And no amount of excuses or denial is going to change that.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I fought to keep them from falling. I couldn’t let him see how much his words hurt me. “You’re supposed to believe me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “You’re my father. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

His face hardened, his expression as distant as a stranger’s. “I’m on the side of truth,” he said firmly. “And the truth is, you’ve disgraced this family. You’ve brought shame on us, and that’s on you. No one else.”

I felt my knees weaken under the weight of his condemnation. “That’s not fair!” I cried, desperation creeping into my voice. “You don’t even know the whole story. You’re just believing what they’re saying. You don’t trust me?”

“You’ve given me no reason to trust you!” he snapped, his voice rising for the first time. His words were like a slap across the face, each one sharper than the last. “Everything I’ve worked for everything this family has stood for you’ve tarnished it with your selfishness.”

The lump in my throat grew, making it hard to breathe. “Selfish?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You think I wanted this? That I asked for this humiliation? I’m your daughter!”

“You stopped being my daughter the moment you decided to ruin this family’s name,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing. “And I’ll be damned if I let you drag the rest of us down with you.”

His words left me stunned, my mind spinning with disbelief. I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. The tears I had fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over, streaking down my cheeks.

With that, he turned and headed for the door, his back straight and his steps purposeful

“William!” my mother’s voice rang out, desperate and angry. “You can’t just walk away from this! She’s your daughter!”

But he didn’t even glance back. “She made her bed,” he said without looking at us. “Now she can lie in it.”

The sound of the door slamming shut behind him felt like the final blow. It echoed in the silence, a stark reminder of how easily he had turned his back on me.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest and my mind reeling. The man who was supposed to protect me, to fight for me, had abandoned me without hesitation.

My mother’s face was twisted with fury, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. “That man,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. “After everything I’ve done for him, for this family, he has the audacity to treat us like this? To speak to us as if we’re beneath him?”

I didn’t respond. My eyes were locked on the door, my body stiff with anger and pain. My father’s words echoed in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

“You reap what you sow.”

The bitterness in his voice, the complete lack of understanding or sympathy it was more than I could handle. My hands balled into fists at my sides, my nails digging painfully into my palms as I struggled to keep my emotions from boiling over.

“This isn’t over,” I said through gritted teeth, my voice low but filled with fiery determination. “I’ll make him regret this.”

My mother turned to me, her eyes blazing with a fury that matched my own. “You’re damn right it’s not over,” she spat. “He thinks he can just walk away? He’ll see what happens when he underestimates us.”

Her words lit a fire within me, and for the first time, my tears dried, replaced by cold, hard resolve. Together, we turned to watch his retreating figure through the window.

The silence between us wasn’t empty, it was charged with shared anger, with a burning need for vengeance. My father’s betrayal had ignited something in me I didn’t even know existed.

My father might have thought he’d won this round, that his pathetic innocence little Eva was more better than me but he was wrong.

He had no idea what was coming.