05
1124 Words
For the first time, I wished my parents’ mansion was in another country.
But no, 'lucky' me, it was fifteen minutes away.
Still in the car, I decided to take Vance's call. He'd been calling non-stop after I texted him asking for Marshall's contact. Even before then he'd been calling like everyone else.
"Solayne, thank God you finally answered. I'm on my way to your place." His voice was taut with worry.
"I'm not home."
"Where are you?"
"My parents." I dragged my fingers through my hair. "You haven't sent the number, Vance."
"Because I don't have it. He changes his number too frequently. I don't have the current one, unless I ask my mum."
Fucking hell.
"Give me his address, then. Or is he at your parents?"
"Solayne, I need to know what's going on. What is that video all about?"
"Well, I don't know either!" My voice rose a notch. I forced in a breath, pressed a hand to my temple, and softened my tone. "I'm sorry, Vance. M—My head is a mess right now. Everyone's been calling. My dad wants to see me. I don't know what to do."
He was quiet.
"I'll explain everything to you once I'm done here. For now, just give me his address. Please."
"Fine. But I'm following you there. Let me know when you're going."
"Sure, thanks."
When the call ended, I set the phone beside me and gripped the steering wheel with both hands, took a really deep breath and said a prayer for myself.
Then, I stepped out of the car, ready to face a nightmare.
Brielle was the first person I saw. Of course she was. The universe had a sick sense of humor. She was perched on the couch in the downstairs living room, laughing into her phone. Her eyes met mine mid-laugh.
"She's here," she said sweetly to whoever was on the other end before hanging up.
"Wow. Marshall's New Slut." She rose slowly, crossing her arms like she’d been rehearsing this moment all morning.
My hand tightened around my bag strap.
"Who would've thought, Solayne, that you'd fall for one brother same night you were rejected by the younger one?"
"I hope this doesn't hurt your feelings, but you're the least of my problems," I told her, my eyes moving to the staircase as I wondered where I'd find dad.
She laughed, not looking a bit affected. How would she when she knew I was the only one hurting here?
I made for the stairs.
"Why don't you tell me how good it was? Are the rumours true? Is he really a monster in bed? Like, a real monster?"
I shook my head, not sparing her a look.
"You know this is worse than a scandal, right? You’ve brought shame to the family’s perfect little image. Better start saying goodbye to that company."
"You wish." I stopped on the third step, turning to glare at her. "The world could burn for all I care; you'll never take what is mine, Brielle. I'll never allow it."
Her brows lifted, a spark of challenge igniting in her eyes. "Then, dear sister, I'd like to see how you crawl out of this mess."
We locked eyes a moment longer before I turned and headed up.
Mum was waiting in the second living room, pacing. The moment she saw me, her expression hardened. The look she gave me as she rose to her feet was enough to make me take a step back.
She opened her mouth, fire already forming on her tongue, when Dad appeared in the doorway.
If Mum’s anger burned hot, Dad’s was ice-cold. It was the kind of look kids saw and ran under their beds.
"To my office. Now."
Mum went after him while I followed last. I'd already rehearsed everything in my head on my way here. Hopefully, I'd do a good performance.
Mum sat on the couch while Dad took his seat behind his desk. And me? I stood before him with my fingers fiddling with my bag strap like some prodigal daughter on trial.
For a while, no word was said. Then, tap. Tap. Tap.
Dad began drumming his pen against the desk.
My father was intimidating by default. He was large and had this permanent scowl. Growing up, I often wondered how two women ever fought over a man whose face looked allergic to smiling.
"You better start talking, Solayne. Because trust me, you don’t want me to be the first to open my mouth."
My palms became too sweaty. s**t. Get it together.
"I—I honestly don't know how the video leaked. I'm sorry, dad. Sorry if it—"
"Who cares about how the damn video leaked? I’m talking about you being wrapped around some playboy who uses and dumps women like garbage. People are calling you his slut. His slut, Solayne. How can the future CEO of Krestel Holdings carry that label? When did you become a w***e?"
"I'm not a w***e," I said too quickly. My eyes found the floor. "Marshall and I... we're dating. And last night, we were just saying our goodbyes. I don't know which enemy recorded and released that video."
His brows shot up. Slowly. "Did you say you and Marshall Domayne are in a relationship? That boy doesn't do relationships. Everyone knows that."
"Well, we have been in one for a long time now. We were just keeping it private until the right moment. I never intended for it to be revealed this way."
He looked confused as hell. He passed a glance at mum before looking back at me again. "I thought he just got back? How have you been in a relationship for a long time?"
"We've been... communicating on phone. Plus a couple of times now, I've flown over to see him. We've been cool, Dad."
God help my soul, I didn't even have the guy's number. I sincerely hoped this conversation would die in this office.
"Hm." He tapped his pen. "I see. Marshall Domayne. He's a good one. Quite successful. A name like that would bring good boost to the company's image."
My heartbeat relocated to my ears. What was he saying?
"Well, Solayne, I hope he loves you enough to get married to you. Henceforth, the people needs to think you two are engaged. I'll talk to the PR team and see how we can achieve that."
"Dad—"
"It's to help with the scandal. It'll erase the narrative of you being his latest slut or whatever." He dropped the pen, picking up his phone as if finalizing a business deal.
"Tell him I want to see him tonight. I need him here for dinner."
- Writer
