Chapter 94: HEIRESS'S SECOND CHANCE BILLIONAIRE
Chapter Ninety-Four “Sore Spots.”
Isabella Kingston.
“Go back to whichever hole you crawled out of. You are not welcomed here.” The words escaped my lips as I strolled into the now gloomy aired Montague mansion, with someone I want to be nowhere near strolling behind me casually, and way too held back might I add.
Meanwhile I am fuming inside. It took a lot from me to remain calm and round up the funeral without throwing a fit simply out of respect for my deceased father and the prying eyes I want to have no part in my life listening in.
All it took was Christian pulling me back slightly, then uttering a single statement that had me back on track. “There are people watching,” he reminded me. “Don’t do this here. Think of your father. Send him off properly.”
As much as I want to say that he has no right to have a say in this, given he pulled up a shitty disappearing act on me as well, which I fully intend to dive into later on, I could not deny the sense in his words. It is the same reason why I remained amicable with him regardless of what I am feeling inside.
To send my father off properly. So, I did that, and the moment we were done, I headed back to my car, only this time, Christian tagged along and so did that woman, in a separate car of course, ignoring the prying eyes that followed us everywhere, having recognized her as that famous artist that a lot would die for, but not as the woman whom I regretfully admit to be my mother.
“That is no way to speak to your mother, Cherie,” She rebuked slightly, that French accent making an appearance, heavily—testament of how many years she spent living there, living whichever life she chose after abandoning me.
I halted in my steps, barely long into stepping into the manse. Turning around, I was slightly gladdened to realize no one came in aside from us two, giving us much needed space. I am especially grateful Christian stayed outside because then I know he will try soothe me and that is the last thing I want.
Narrowing my eyes at the woman, I gritted out. “Never, and I repeat, never shall you address yourself as such in front of me.” She remained unwavering in her stance, her gaze holding mine, seeming unaffected by my words in the slightest. “And you have no right to step into this house. Not after the way you left.”
Her own face hardened. “I am still your father’s legal wife--”
“Was his wife, was,” I corrected through gritted teeth, my voice low for if I raise it any higher, there will be need for the others to storm in. Raising my hand, I pointed a finger at her, “Don’t you dare claim you are his wife.”
“We never submitted the divorce papers, and you know it.” That seems to be her triumph card, the one thing she is holding onto all this while to do whatever she wants. “It does not matter if that mistress of his is claiming to be his wife, we all know that he and I are still tied legally. Or would you rather she be his wife instead and a step mother?”
“At least she knew to stick to her children and not abandon them for another man!” I could not help it, I had to scream the words out, and I did not regret it. An emotion I could not quite decipher flashed across her orbs, but it disappeared as quick at it came. I continued regardless. “She may be a shitty woman, but she still cares and stuck with her children. She did not up, and abandon her seven year-old for a man she had an affair with!”
“Your father was no saint either,” She gritted back, seeming upset as well. “He had two kids with Josephine,”
“And that was even before you two met!” I am not trying to defend my father. No, screw it, I am because under no circumstance shall they be paired. He was a much better person than she is, or will ever be. “He had two sons with Josephine, then went on to marry you. If anyone here should be upset, it is she for she was betrayed by him,” And in no way am I trying to defend Josephine of all people.
She is a bitch, no doubt there. But, she is still a bit better than this woman is.
“He did not betray her,” This woman spat bitterly. “Throughout the eight year we were together, he still went to her every chance he gets. And what? I am the villain for doing the same thing he does?”
“He goes there for his children, and you can never compare yourself with him, believe me, it is evident right there.” How can she still not get the point here? “Whether Dad, or Josephine, they cared about their children more and I am so sorry that he makes time for his kids, something you clearly cannot do.”
She shook her head, her earlier smug expression nowhere to be found. “You cannot understand what I went through, not unless your own husband leaves you for some other woman in times you desperately need him!” I will not lie, she gritting those words out in this situation did struck right in the heart, for it is sore spot for me right now.
What if I do understand? What if something truly happened between Zara and Christian while he has been missing this past week? What if Christian turns out to be the same as James? What if he cheated on me as well?
How can I live with that broken heart? Not when I have opened up my heart to him and my heart has learned to love him.
What if I do end up in her shoes? Will I make the same choice as her? And will I be able to still hate her as much as I do right now?
She took a few steps closer to me, her expression determined and mixed with hurt, but anger blazed in her eyes as she continued. “You cannot, and do not have the right to make me the villain when you glorify your father and Josephine. You cannot make me the villain for choosing my peace and my mental health when I was losing myself because of those two.” Her voice dropped to a whisper when she added. “You do not have the right to judge me, Isabella. Not when I only did what I had to do.”
My lips slanted into a humorless, bitter smile as my eyes glossed. “Of course,” I whispered back. “Who am I to judge you? I am no one to you after all.”
Her expression softened almost immediately, something akin to regret swirling in her orbs. “Isabella…”
I blinked back my tears, releasing a couple of breaths to get my emotions in check before I met her gaze again. “You can stay in the mansion if you like,” I am surprised my tone came out cold, and composed when I am seconds away from a mental breakdown. “Sebastian and Josephine are here as well, so it is just you three.” Holding her gaze, I added. “Do whatever you want, but I ask of you to not show up where I am again, and if you have to, just ignore my existence as a whole. That is the only thing I ask of you. But, it should be easy for you, should it not? It won’t be your first rodeo after all.”
Not waiting for her response, because it seems as though she has something she wants to say, I side stepped her and stormed out, a single tears streaming down my face the moment I took the first few steps away—the first one since I cried my heart out upon hearing my father’s time of death being called out.
But, I know this is not the time to cry, so I wiped the tear away ferociously and walked out, putting on a strong font. Only, I could only get so much peace because the moment I stepped out, I was welcomed by the sight of Christian standing by the door, and judging from his expression, he may have caught whiff of what is going on.
Ignoring it, I kept my expression blank, then spoke up. “We have to talk, don’t we?” I arched a brow. “I believe you owe me a lot of explanation.”