Chapter 48 The Accusation

Chapter 48 The Accusation
Alina's POV 

Regina was quicker though. 

She grabbed his arm mid-swing, holding it firmly. “Frederick! What are you doing? Aren’t you trying to fix your relationship with Alina? Why are you making it worse?”

“Forget about fixing anything! She’s being so unreasonable,” Father growled, yanking his arm but not striking. “I don’t know what has gotten into her these past few days, but maybe a slap can fix it.”

Of course. Typical Frederick Sterling.

Before Regina could counter that, Mrs. Harrington stepped forward, voice icy like she's staging a performance. “This was not the girl promised to my son, Frederick. It’s either she fixes whatever is going on or the marriage is off.”

‘Yes!’ I screamed inside my head. Why would I want to marry Blake after seeing how obnoxious and arrogant he is?

“Hell no!” Blake spat, but at the same time I said, “Hell yes. Thank you, Mrs. Harrington. You took the words right out of my mouth. I have no interest in marrying your mannerless son.”

Father’s face turned a dangerous shade of red within seconds. At this point, he might as well be a cartoon character because how the hell does his face always get that red?

He yelled, veins standing out on his neck. “Ariella Sterling. Have you lost your mind?!”

I cut him off, voice steady despite the storm inside. “If you want this partnership so badly, then you should adopt a child and marry her off to Blake. Because I've decided that I won’t be marrying Blake Harrington. Not in this life, or the next!” I declared, stomping my feet.

“No!” Blake shouted, stepping closer. “You must marry me. Mother, take that back!” He said, turning to glare at his mother.

Father’s eyes bored into mine, leaving no room for argument. “It is already settled, Alina. Have you forgotten what I told you when I first mentioned this marriage?” 

My brows furrowed as I tried to remember what he's talking about. Then the memory slammed into me like ice water. 

The condition. 

The damn ultimatum he’d delivered in this very room months ago, voice calm as he explained the documents. ‘Marry Blake and inherit the Sterling Corporation. Refuse… and it all goes to Dorothy.’

My face tightened in anger. I could feel the weight of it pressing on my chest…the company my mother had poured her heart into, the legacy she built before everything fell apart. It was the one piece of her I had left. 

I couldn’t lose it to Dorothy. The thought made bile rise in my throat. I'll soon burn it all to ashes than ever let it fall into the hands of Dorothy.

I looked up at my father, searching his eyes for any hesitation…any warmth. He knows how much the Corporation means to me. Why would he use it as a collar around my neck?

I searched his face, but all I saw was this cold resolution staring back at me, unyielding, like a wall I’d never break. 

He meant every word. Damn it. The room felt smaller, the air thicker with unspoken threats and shattered expectations.

The weight of it pressed down on my chest, stealing my breath. The room spun slightly…the angry faces, the expensive art on the walls, the scent of polished wood and tension. My blood-stained hands clenched at my sides as everything I had been pushing back finally crashed over me.

Why would he do this to me? He knows I hate Dorothy…why would he dangle that clause in the first place?

Or…is there something I'm missing? 

The thought coiled in my gut like a living thing, cold and venomous. 

Around me, the room had frozen into a sea of shock and fury. Regina still had one hand hovering near Father’s arm, her face pale and tight with worry. 

Mrs. Harrington’s lips were pressed into a thin, disapproving line, her eyes gleaming with something close to irritation at the chaos. 

Blake looked between us like a spoiled child whose toy was being taken away, fists clenched at his sides. 

And Father… Father stood rigid, jaw locked, that dangerous red still flooding his cheeks.

I crossed my arms over my chest, locking my elbows, and stared straight at him. The silence stretched, heavy, until I let a small, sad laugh slip out…quiet at first, then sharper, bitter. 

A smirk twisted my mouth, but it felt wrong on my face, like it didn’t belong there.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Father?” I asked, voice low but carrying.

He looked taken aback, blinking once as if the words had physically struck him. “What are you talking about?”

I didn’t look away. My arms stayed folded, shoulders squared, chin lifted. Every pair of eyes in the room burned into me, but I only saw him. The man who used to carry me on his shoulders when my mother was alive. The man who now held my mother’s legacy hostage.

“You know,” I said, slower this time, tasting the words like poison, “I’ve always wondered why you favored Dorothy over me. Every. Single. Time.”

He opened his mouth…ready to object, to scold, to shut me down…but I cut him off before the first syllable could form.

“I’ve always wondered why you always let her get away with framing me for things I didn’t do. Why you let her walk all over me since my mother died!” 

My voice climbed higher with every word, the carefully held dam inside me cracking. “Could it really be what I think it is?”

The air left the room at that moment.

Father’s face darkened further, the red deepening until it looked almost purple. “What the hell are you talking about, young lady? And you will not raise your voice at me! I’m your father!”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He stared at me like I had grown a second head. Like the girl standing in front of him was a stranger wearing his daughter’s face.

I took a step closer. The polished floor felt cold beneath my feet. My heart hammered so hard I thought everyone must hear it.

“Are you sure I’m your only daughter?” The words left me sharp, deliberate. “Could it be that Dorothy is your daughter too? Wouldn’t that explain why you always favored her? Wouldn't that explain why you dared to add her as a clause…to threaten me…so your precious daughter gets to have my mother’s fortune?!”

I was shouting now…not even pretending to be graceful or holding back a little. I didn't care who heard… All I wanted was to get that feeling out of my chest. And I did. The accusation hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot.

The room fell into silence after my accusation. It was the kind of silence that presses against your eardrums. 

The kind that makes time feel broken. No one moved…no one breathed too loudly. Mr and Mrs. Harrington’s eyes had gone wide. Blake’s mouth hung open in shock while Regina looked like she might be sick.

And Father…

When I finally saw his face clearly, the regret hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.