Who, really, Deserves to be called Family?

Formally dressed, Drake pushes open the doors to the hospital, and behind him walks four other men excluding the secretary that walks right by his side. “Find what room she is currently admitted in from the nurses over there.” Drake orders and the secretary walks ahead, making inquiry as ordered. He rejoins them right by the elevator.

“She is admitted on the eighth floor, the seventh room to be precise. 8007. She is the only one there since its aa VVIP room.”

Drake does not respond, nodding him to press the elevator button, which he obliges without any words.

Up there, the secretary leads the way. Locating the room, he pulls open the door to the room, giving Drake and the four other men admittance.

Anastasia opens her eyes, sitting up to see who the visitors are. Even through the head splitting headache she is sporting; she is still able to make a face as soon as she sees who the august visitors are.

“We heard you were back and immediately came to see you.” Drake quips, examining her body and state from her head to her toe.

“How are you faring, ma’am?”

“I am doing quite well, thank you Directors for coming to see how I am doing. I am currently supposed to be on bed rest, so if you will excuse me…” Anastasia deliberately regards Drake as one of them, letting him know that he is in no way special. He is just an ordinary director since he never really acted as Paul’s brother anyway.

“Oh, sure. We will come back to check up on you when you are feeling a lot better.”

Drake scowls as he turns to leave with the other directors. Anastasia lays back down just as the door closes.

“Why was it not you who died instead?” Drake whispers right in front of the door.

Anastasia sits back up again, sees him standing there by the door, in the shadows, a look of hurt and anger on her face. “I thin the question is why are you here? Prime suspect in your own brother’s murder, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Drake walks back inside, letting the light in the room illuminate his face to see just how much hate is written in the lines of his face. “I might not have shown it in the public but I loved him enough to try to dissuade him from getting married to you back then.”

Anastasia takes a deep breath, willing herself to be strong. “I am the only family he had, his daughter too. It is only when you needed his help getting you out of trouble, or the times when you needed a favor that he was ever your brother. Calling him your brother, in fact, is something you don’t deserve, you’re just a human leech. You never acknowledged him more than that.”

Drake snickers. “So many things you don’t know about your brother. The day before, he had messaged me. Do you want to know what he said?”

Anastasia looks away.

“I’ll still tell you either way. He told me that he felt suffocated every time you were near, that you were a terrible wife and mother. Pushing your daughter into doing things that she did not want to, like getting married.”

“YOU ARE A LIAR!” Anastasia suddenly flares up, startling Drake who flinches very slightly. “How about you show me the message? Hm? You can’t because it’s not true.” Her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Don’t you ever try to paint my husband as a terrible person. He might have been slightly incapable a couple of times but I will still choose him no matter where I find myself. He is a million times better than you.”

Drake is not backing down though. “Say whatever the hell you want. I am talking to you as Drake Anderson, not your freaking stupid director of HRM, you are a damn wicked woman. Obsessed with perfection, obsessed with languages, obsessed with elegance. Hell, you won’t even let your daughter swear.” He scoffs drily. “If Paul had never married you, he would not be dead now. His death is your fault.”

“GET OUT OF HERE!” Bethany screams from the door, her hair falling all over her face. Neither of the sparring adults had seen or heard her open the door. Her eyes wet with tears and her face red with anger. “Can’t you see how bruised she is already? Can’t you see she is grieving? Are you too fucking blind to see that she lost her husband? Your own brother?” She half screams, stamping her feet with each sentence.

Anastasia is full blown weeping and Drake is standing there, his face ashen.

“You are the worst uncle in the world, and even the worst brother. Please, submit your resignation letter directly to me tomorrow.”

Drake goes white. “But…”

“It is unfair? Well, your brother is not here to help you any more and the wife he left behind who could help you, you made her cry.” Bethany’s eyes are wide open, staring on the border of being creepy and psychopathic.

“I will fine a case of unjust termination.”

“Go ahead. Go the fuck ahead. I will counter sue you for defamation and I have to plant things against you, I will. Get out of here. And until you can tell the world what you were up to on the night of his murder, and until you can explain to the world why you wanted to kick him out of his post, you will remain fired.”

“You are firing me?”

“Yes. I can and I am. I take back the resignation. You are fired without any bonuses. Now, get out before I call security on you.”

Drake leaves the room, swearing under his breath.

As he passes by her in the doorway, she comes inside, kneeling beside Ana who is still sobbing. “I’m sorry mum. Please stop crying.” She hugs her.

Both women, grieving, stay like that for the next five minutes, until Anastasia stops crying.

“I am fine now. Sorry you had to see me like that. His words…”

“You don’t have to apologize. His words were harsh on you. You should really get some rest; you look like you can pass out any moment.”

“I’ll be fine.” Ana reassures as she lays down on the bed. “You know, you should not fire him. He is still your uncle, no matter how shitty he is.”

Bethany pauses. “Fine. But I will not reinstate him until he is fully proven innocent. I don’t trust him one bit.”

“I will agree with you on that.”

“I’ll go get you the things you need. I will also inform the nurses to not let anyone in so you can sleep uninterrupted.”

“Okay. Bye.” Ana says from her bed before Beth closes the door out front.

Outside, Bethany leans on the wall, and slides down to the floor, terribly overwhelmed.

Shakily, she rearranges her hair with her hands, stands back up and makes for the elevator.

Outside the hospital, she walks over to where Mandall is waiting in his car.

As he sees her coming, he frowns in worry, exiting the car and meeting her halfway.

Reaching out, he holds her by the shoulder, she slumps against his body weakly, sniffling.

“Are you okay?” He asks, grabbing her and puling her off the ground, holding her against himself bridal style. He urgently begins to walk back to the hospital.

“Stop.” She whispers. Mandall screeches to a stop, immense worry written all over his features.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pains somewhere?”

“I am fine. I just had a harsh confrontation inside. I fired my uncle; he had been yelling at my mum. He had said some very hurtful things, she had been crying. I fired him. All the yelling made me just slightly dizzy. I am fine.”

Mandall sighs heavily and relief and turns around to the car. Opening the car door, he drops her inside carefully. Then he leans the chair to the back for her to rest a little bit. “I think we should grab a bite for you too. You haven’t had breakfast yet, am I right?”

She nods feebly.

Mandall gets in the car, turns off the radio and turns on the heater for a little bit against the chill weather.

Slowly, Bethany falls asleep right there in the car, and once again, under the peaceful tutelage of Mandall, under his watchful eyes.

In her bag at the backseat, her phone vibrates with a message from someone.

“You? You are getting married? There is a higher chance of me going to the moon tomorrow than you getting married in a couple of weeks. Who are you trying to fool? Or, by any chance, are you thinking of coming to beg me or something so I can marry you and then you’ll truly be the CEO? If that is your plan, well, it is feasible. I am willing to give you another chance to marry me after you blew the last one up.”

Then her phone’s interface t

urns off, just like the smile of the man who sent it.