I Would Love To Go With Grandpa

Morana's Point of View

The morning came faster than I'd expected. I barely slept, anticipation coursing through me like a live wire. By the time the doorbell rang, I was already dressed and waiting, perched on the edge of my bed like a coiled spring.

From the window, I watched my grandfather, step out of his sleek black car. He still had that commanding presence—broad shoulders, a steely gaze, and an aura that made you think twice before crossing him. I could almost hear the tension snapping into place as the butler opened the door to let him in.

I quickly left my room and descended the stairs, careful to appear composed. When I reached the foyer, my father, Edward, was already there, his face a mixture of surprise and nervousness. Isabella, of course, was right beside him, her expression carefully neutral but her eyes darting with unease.

"Father," Edward greeted stiffly. "What brings you here?"

Adam didn't even glance at him. His piercing eyes found me immediately, and he offered a rare, small smile. "Angel."

I returned the smile, my heart swelling at his acknowledgment. "Grandpa."

His attention then snapped to Edward, and the smile vanished. "I came to take Morana with me."

Edward blinked, clearly taken aback. "Take her? What do you mean?"

Adam folded his arms across his chest. "I mean exactly what I said. She'll be staying with me for a while."

Before Edward could respond, Isabella stepped forward, her voice sugary but firm. "Oh, no, Mr. Sinclair. Morana loves it here. This is her home."

Adam's eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. "You have no place to speak here, home wrecker."

The words hit like a whip, and I bit back a grin as Isabella's face flushed an angry red.

"Father," Edward interjected, his voice tight. "Please don't speak to my wife like that."

Adam scoffed, his gaze cold. "And if I do, what will you do about it?"

Edward opened his mouth to respond but seemed to think better of it. He looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

Isabella, however, wasn't so easily silenced. She turned to me, motioning sharply. "Morana, tell your grandfather you love it here."

Her eyes bored into mine, daring me to disobey. The old me would've flinched, would've stammered out the words she wanted to hear. But not anymore.

I leaned back slightly on the couch, crossing my legs and meeting her gaze with a serene smile. "I would love to go with Grandpa."

The room fell silent. For a moment, I thought Isabella might actually faint from the shock.

"What?!" she screeched, her voice shrill enough to make Edward wince.

I kept my tone light, almost cheerful. "I've missed him, and I think it'll be good for me to spend some time with him."

Isabella's face twisted with rage. "You ungrateful little—"

"Enough," Adam cut in sharply, his voice brooking no argument. "Angel, go get your bags. I'll wait here."

I stood gracefully, smoothing out my dress. "Thank you, Grandpa. I won't be long."

As I ascended the stairs, I heard Isabella whispering furiously to Edward, but Adam's deep, commanding voice quickly silenced her.

"This isn't up for discussion," he said firmly. "Morana is leaving with me, and that's final. If you've got a problem with that, take it up with someone who cares."

The corners of my lips twitched as I entered my room.

The moment I stepped back into the living room, all eyes turned to me. I carried my bag, one I had secretly packed the night before, slung over my shoulder. My heart thudded in my chest, but I kept my expression calm, collected, and just a little smug.

Adam's approving nod gave me strength. Isabella, however, looked like she was ready to claw my eyes out.

"Morana," she began, her voice trembling with faux sweetness as she stepped toward me. "Are you really going to leave us like this?"

I stared at her, unblinking, as she reached out and gripped my arm. Her nails dug into my skin, sharp and unyielding, but I didn't flinch. I didn't give her the satisfaction.

Instead, I smiled, a soft, almost mocking curve of my lips. "I know you'll miss me, Isabella. Don't worry, though. I'll miss you more."

Her grip tightened, her nails biting harder into my flesh, but I held her gaze, refusing to back down. Slowly, deliberately, I dragged my arm free from her grasp.

"Morana," Edward's voice cut through the tension. I turned to see him looking at me with what I assumed was his best attempt at sincerity. "You don't have to do this. Stay. We're your family. I'll miss you."

I scoffed lightly, the sound escaping before I could stop it. "Miss me? Since when, Father? Was it when you stopped looking at me after Mom died? Or maybe when you spent all her money on them?" I glanced pointedly at Isabella, watching as Edward's face reddened.

"Spare me the act."

"Morana," he started again, but I held up a hand, silencing him.

"I've made my decision," I said firmly. "I'm leaving."

Without another word, I turned to my grandfather, who was already watching the scene with a mixture of pride and disdain. "I'm ready, Grandpa."

He placed a protective hand on my shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. Together, we began walking toward the door.

Behind me, Isabella's shrill voice rang out. "Don't even think of coming back here!"

I paused mid-step, turning just enough to glance at her over my shoulder. My lips curled into a smirk. "No worries, Isabella. But when I return, I'll make sure to bring lots of gifts for you."

Her face twisted in rage, and I felt a surge of satisfaction wash over me.

Adam chuckled softly beside me. "Angel, you've got quite the tongue."

I smiled at him, a real one this time. "I get it from you, Grandpa."