Chapter 79 The Mother I Never Called

Chapter 79 The Mother I Never Called
“You’re truly cruel, Ariana! How'd you abandon your husband again?” Christian’s voice thundered, loud and unsteady. Even his cold laughter was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.
“Daddy, he’s drunk again.”
Sophia’s footsteps stopped in front of the slightly open door to her father’s study. She stiffened, holding her breath as she moved closer, peering through the narrow gap. “He’s doing it. He looks so miserable. He’s even still wearing last night’s shirt.” The sight was all too familiar, yet it still made her chest ache. “He’s completely fallen apart. He used to be so meticulous, and now he’s like he was when he thought Ariana was dead.”
Her father became someone else when he was like this. A stranger, frightening. His hand gripped a half empty bottle of alcohol as he pushed himself up from the sofa, staggering toward his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a framed photo of Ariana.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I love you, Ariana? But you never believe me. Does living in that stone house make you happy? No, it’s impossible. You can’t be happy,” he rambled, laughing again, his neck tense and rigid. “You’re getting more beautiful. It’s driving me insane. I love every single one of those scars. Why do you keep hiding them?”
In the corner of the room, Lorne quietly cleaned up the broken glass and the mess his master had made.
“You need to stop, sir,” Lorne said carefully. “Miss Sophia will be upset if she sees you like this.”
“Shut up! Do you think I can’t be a good father to my daughter?” he snapped, lifting the bottle again, liquor spilling at the corners of his lips.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Lorne lowered his head.
“Lorne, do you think I haven’t treated my wife and my son well enough?” Christian shouted again, his voice hoarse, full of pain. “Lucas is my son, not that bastard’s! But Ariana keeps calling that fake husband of hers a good man. Does she not see that I’ve always tried to change to be better? Damn it!”
He slammed the bottle onto the table. His body bent forward as he broke into a fit of coughing.
Sophia swallowed hard at the sight. “He keeps calling Lucas’s name, even in his sleep, even when we’re eating together. Does Dad really like him that much?” she murmured uneasily.
“Dad and Ariana must both love Lucas very much,” she added silently. “He must be a healthy child. Not like me.”
Sophia abandoned her intention to go in. She quickly turned away, her emotions in turmoil, avoiding Lorne as he began moving toward the door, but instead of heading to her own room, her feet carried her to the forbidden room of her biological mother, its door slightly ajar.
She stood before the large portrait of her mother. Tilting her head up, she stared at the painted face as tears began to stream down her pale cheeks.
“Do you already know that Dad married Ariana?” Sophia whispered softly. “Were you as shocked as I was? It turns out I've a brother too.”
A bitter smile tugged at her lips between sobs as she spoke to the portrait that seemed to be watching her, those green eyes fixed on her small, trembling frame. Her little hand wiped roughly at her wet cheeks.
“I’m okay, mom. These’re happy tears. Dad did it again today. He got drunk because of Ariana. But he always eats with me, so don’t worry. He still loves me very much.”
Her voice suddenly cut off as her ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps. Her heart began to pound. Christian had forbidden anyone from entering this room, including her, except for two trusted maids assigned to clean it and Ariana’s room.
Sophia hurried to the window and hid behind the heavy curtains. She crouched down. Her body tensed as the door opened. Two people entered, talking as they walked in. She recognized their voices, the longtime maids, Maria and Irenne.
“The situation's only getting worse,” Irenne complained as she switched on several lights in the dim room. “He thought he'd bring Ariana back after five years, after finding out she’s still alive. But look at him now. He failed completely.”
“Maybe Ariana has found a quieter life for herself,” Maria replied. The soft sound of fabric brushing could be heard as she wiped dust from the vanity.
Irenne scoffed, placing her hands on her hips, her face flushed with anger. “I think so too. I’m just grateful she’s still alive. It'd be better if she never came back to this mansion. Why return to a place that only ever hurt her?”
“But sir has realized his mistakes,” Maria said gently.
“Realized his mistakes?” Irenne’s voice turned sharper, more cynical. “That doesn’t come close to making up for what he did to Ariana. Do you remember when Ariana was pregnant with Miss Sophia?”
Maria nodded slowly, her movement faintly visible through the curtain. “I could never forget those difficult times.”
Behind the curtain, Sophia’s eyes widened. “What is Irenne saying? Ariana was pregnant with me?” her grip tightened on the fabric of her school uniform.
“No matter what, she’s still her mom,” Irenne continued boldly. “She carried the child of sir’s late wife, the one who died in that accident, yet sir never treated her like a human being, even after marrying her legally.”
“Sir was very cruel back then,” Maria murmured sadly.
“He was extremely cruel! He even forbade Miss Sophia from calling her ‘mother,’ even though Ariana risked her life to give birth to her prematurely because of Miss Amber’s wicked actions, that former fiancée of his!” Irenne snorted angrily, her emotions boiling over. “She was treated like nothing more than a child bearing machine, then discarded just like that. What woman would want to live with a man like him?”
Maria’s voice trembled as she replied, “Ariana deserves to be happy now. I hope she meets a man far better than Mr. Christian out there.”
The two maids continued their work in a suffocating silence. After making sure everything was clean, they turned off the lights, left the forbidden room. The sound of the door closing and locking rang sharply in Sophia’s ears.
Once everything was truly quiet, Sophia’s small body collapsed onto the cold floor. Her eyes were wet and glassy, her lips trembling violently before finally parting, her voice hoarse.
“Ariana gave birth to me,” she whispered again.
She suddenly remembered all the harsh words she had heard from Beatriz, who always called her an unfortunate child.
“I’m the one who made her suffer,” Sophia said again, hugging her knees tightly. Her sobs grew louder in the dark, silent room. “Would things have been different if Ariana hadn’t been pregnant with me? Am I really a curse, like Nana said? She suffered because she gave birth to me.”
Sophia buried her face in her arms. The image of Ariana, beautiful and gentle, now felt unbearably distant. Her chest tightened, filled with guilt toward the woman who had turned out to be her true mother.
“Ariana, I want to see you,” she cried.