All Chapters of Love And Tales: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Alana's PovHearing the news that my dad has finalized his plans of updating his will really put a damper on my mood. Now, I found out that Raymond knows that I am carrying his child. I strode hastily to my bedroom to give my mom a ring because I couldn't get the hang of what was about to happen. “Elena can't be included in the will; she is no one. I am the rightful heir to my dad’s wealth,” I pitched while taking shallow breaths as I dialed my mom's number.“Alana!!” My mother retorted firmly, causing me to jump slightly, startling the heck out of me as I completely missed the fact that she had answered my call."Yes, mom,” I responded with my face all scrunched up.“You called and you weren't responding; what has gotten you this worried, hun? Talk to me, baby.” If my mother was in front of me right now, she would come closer and lift my head with her fingers. Keep a stern look on her face with her eyebrows scrunched up together. “Did you hear about Dad's update? I asked, my tone

Elena's point of viewThe afternoon sun streamed down the window, casting warm glows on the floor.My hand grasped the baking pan as I carefully grazed butter on it, humming my favorite song ‘Bad Guy by Billie Eilish.’ It was Hope's birthday; he just turned six, and we decided to throw a little party. I had chosen not to allow my dad's condition to take a toll on me for now.The scent of freshly baked chocolate cake wafted through the atmosphere, perching on my nostrils. I stood erect as my eyes scanned the kitchen for any other thing that needed to be done; thankfully there was none.Quickly, I dropped everything I was holding and walked into the shower cubicle to wash away the day's exhaustion and grimness. As the cool liquid ran down my spine, I felt a sigh of relief engulf me. Seconds stretched into minutes, and I was done with my bath. Just as I was about to select a gown from the vast collection of clothing in my wardrobe, my eyes rested on the CD, which stayed lazily on the n

Alana's point of viewMy eyes were weary as I stared on a pillar, trying to avoid everyone's attention from my direction. The hot, steamy chocolate coffee enveloped the air. I reached out and took a sip, my eyes still fixated on the pillars. It wasn't easy acting like I was grieving my mother; well, I was good at what I did. It was obvious I was better than I had given myself credit for.Raymond stared at me from a distance as he played with Hope. I wasn't a telepath, but I was sure whatever was going on in his mind was clearly not good. The news felt unbelievable in his ears. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't convinced that my mother died so fast, even after he demanded an autopsy.I got up from the couch, walked over to the table, and dropped the coffee cup. I could notice his gaze trailing behind me as I walked out sobbing. I had requested an emergency burial for mom; the authorities had their doubts, but I seventy had my way after so many pleadings from my lawyer and my surna

Alana's Point of ViewThe distant hum of machines could be heard, the strong scent of antiseptic evident in the air. I tossed and turned on the bed, pain coursing down my abdomen. I was at the hospital; even without opening my eyes, I knew it.The low, distant chatter of patients and doctors added to my unease, and I had no other option but to let my eyes open.“Damn it,” I cursed, sitting upright. Sweat raced down my forehead as I stared at the doctors and nurses running around me.“She is awake, Doctor,” one of the nurses said, signaling the attention of Doctor Lucas.Maintaining his friendly demeanor, he walked over to me, a smile spreading across his lips.“Alana, welcome on board,” he teased, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. Honestly, his sense of humor sucked. I couldn't believe that I had come to the hospital after being pushed down by Elena.“How do you feel?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.“Better,” I grumbled. To be honest, I felt that he should shut up and

Raymond's point of viewThe sitting room was filled with laughter and sift clinging of glasses, particularly from my friends. I had invited only a few friends; we didn't want to make it known to avoid the prying eyes of the journalists.My father sat on the stool like a king with a warm smile, watching my friends drink to their satisfaction; it was his birthday.“Where is the baker?” I asked, my mom's eyes scanning the room as I searched for her. Just then, she walked in with the cake cradled in her hand. Her face was covered with a veil; she was an Indian, and maybe she was respecting her culture. I knew little about Indian culture. She had tattoos on her hand, which I observed as she slowly dropped the cake on the table.“I should be taking my leave,” she whispered, her voice tiny.“So early?” Elena asked, walking up to her.“Yeah, I've got some unfinished business to attend to,” she replied, her voice firm.Elena tried protesting, but I stopped her just in time with a kiss, which