Chapter 53 Fifty Three
AMELIA XAVIER
I felt my hands trembling as I held the phone to my ear. I waited for father to speak, but he said nothing for a while which added to my anxiety. My blood pumped faster than normal, making me gasp for air and I shut my eyes to calm the tension that threatened to consume my entirety.
He won't kill you, Amelia.
Will he?
“I saw the rumour… I believe it's a rumour, isn't it, sweetheart?” He asked, his deep voice resonating over the phone. I shuddered, but said nothing, until my brain realized that the ten seconds of silence between us meant I had to reply.
“A rumour? Which rumour, daddy. The only gossip I heard was the one about… about Owen and the great sea lord sir Phillipe,” I answered. Owen cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow in question. I gave him a pleading eyes and waited for father to speak.
“Ah! That, I put in a good word for him only because you're living with him.” It was my turn to glance at Owen. He shrugged carelessly.
“Oh, I came only to visit, I'll leave soon daddy, if it's about a rumour between Owen Winters and I then it's baseless,” I explained, clutching the phone tightly to my ear.
“I didn't say anything about the rumour, you did that yourself, basically spilled everything. So tell me Amelia, what do you think about it?” He asked sarcastically. I bit my lower lips knowing fully well beating father at his own game was null. No one could ever.
He was the real definition of eat your cake and have it.
I sighed, resigning my fate. Father knew about my relationship with Owen, but he still didn't know that I carried in me, the baby of the house of the Winters.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came, so I tried again.
‘Father I have something to say,’ I wanted to say, but instead I replied, “they're just baseless rumours daddy, and by the way, it was childhood infatuation. Owen Winters is definitely not my type.” I argued hoping he would take in the lie, and it worked because he sighed.
“Just be safe, sweetheart. This little brother of yours is bugging me…”
“Bye da…”
beep.
He gave me no chance to complete my statement and he hung up. My hands dropped to the side, and my blood pressure went back to normal. I wiped my hands at the back of my dress and stared up at Owen.
He looked rather disappointed. “What's wrong, Owen?” I asked so softly, it scared me. He shrugged, turning to leave.
“I'm not your type?” He scoffed, turning away from me.
“I said it so daddy would let me be. If I didn't say anything, he'd tell me to come back home. You're being petty, Owen Winters!” I bursted out, and immediately regretted what I did.
“I'll be in the study. I understand your point, Amelia. Goodnight,” he said in french and walked out without even a back glance at me.
I sprawled carelessly on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. Owen was vexed and I didn't know why. It was either because of what I had said or how my father scared me so much.
Why are you afraid of your father…
Owen's question the other night rang in my head. Suddenly, I felt something come up my throat, my head pounded hard and a nauseous feeling gnawed at my throat.
Fuck!
I rushed to the bathroom and let it all out.
“Fuck my night,” I cursed cleaning up.
OWEN WINTERS
The study was warmer than the rest of the house, books lined up in an arranged pattern on every shelf, and there were no spaces left for more books. Call it aesthetics or whatever you want, the things hidden behind them were my real aesthetic.
I stopped typing at my laptop and rested on the swivel chair.
I knew Amelia felt guilty for what she said, but she did nothing wrong.
I typed some more.
She tried to protect our little secret that if let out, would destroy every single thing we worked for. The fact, my sweetheart was afraid of her father, Dylan Xavier — too afraid of him, she denied the fear.
“Maybe I was too hard on her, and the baby…” I muttered standing to go check up on her.
As soon as I reached the door of my study, my phone rang, and I knew exactly who it was. My expression changed and I turned swiftly to answer the phone.
“Father…”
“The Russian bratva huh? Seems like you have a lot to learn while dealing with things like this, Owen,” father interrupted, his voice reverberating through the phone that I pushed it far from my ear.
“About that… Well, they're demanding too much and I heard they want to use it to take down our ally. When they find out that we sold ammunition to them, you know the rest,” I explained, not regretting what I did.
Father said nothing for a while, then sighed. I could tell he was pulling a strand from his hair — something he did subconsciously.
“We have to discuss this in detail, Owen, you don't just act rashly. Dylan called…” I knew what he was about to say.
“You took down the rumour, how reasonable of you, but you know how Mr Xavier favours that daughter of his. I was surprised when he mentioned how she decided to join the business and he sent her to Paris,” he said, his words bland although it held seriousness.
“So… what are you trying to say?” I asked boredom consuming me.
“You'll be pretty busy, you'll stay away from her. She can live wherever it is that you're staying, but most importantly… don't have sex with her-”
Oh shit! She already has my baby growing in her.
I rolled my eyes, but I knew what was at stake. Though Dylan Xavier had a deep relationship with us, he could destroy us in one go if it concerned Amy.
“-except we're looking for trouble, then yes, keep toying with her, fuck the life out of her and get her pregnant,” he continued adding a little bit of drama.
Dylan mustn't know.
“I understand, father.”