"And who the hell are you?" my mother snapped at him as he confidently strode into the room and walked towards her with his arm outstretched. "I'm Quentin Wynverston, your daughter's husband," he introduced himself like that was actually going to help me. If I was able to move around and had the strength to stand, I would’ve probably slapped him silly because this would do more harm than good. My mother would view this as a sign of disrespect. My mother snapped her head to the side, "is that so? So you're the silly English man who kidnapped my daughter and brainwashed her?" she stood from her chair and slapped his hand away, "are you not even the least bit ashamed of yourself?" she snapped at him, "this is my daughter, she's not even 21 years old yet-" He nodded, accepted her backlash, "I understand that you're very upset-" "Oh, I'm not upset Quentin, I'm pissed
Last Updated : 2021-03-11 Read more