Chapter 7

Melisa stood at the top of the staircase, her gaze cold and unreadable as she watched her so-called parents chatting with Aunt Eleanor and Uncle George, their laughter ringing through the room as if no betrayal had ever taken place.

Camilla shifted uncomfortably under her daughter's piercing stare, a flicker of unease crossing her composed expression.

"Melisa," she called softly, her voice carrying a forced gentleness.

Without a word, Melisa descended the stairs, her steps slow and deliberate. She took a seat beside Aunt Eleanor, her posture poised yet distant, before offering her mother a brief nod—nothing more.

"Melisa, how have you been?" Camilla tried again, her voice low and gentle.

Melisa's gaze flickered toward her mother. Unlike before, when she would lower her head in quiet submission, she now met her with a calm yet distant expression.

"I've been well," she replied evenly.

She narrowed her eyes as she studied Camilla ,her mother. She wasn't sure what she was searching for in her mother's eyes—worry, regret, perhaps even guilt. But she knew better. She would never find those emotions there.

Robert , her father cleared his throat, his tone unnaturally cheerful. "We were worried you might not be adjusting well. And Olivia… she wanted to apologize."

"So?" Melisa's tone was flat as she looked at Olivia, who sat beside their mother with her head lowered, feigning shame.

But Melisa wasn't fooled. She had long grown tired of Olivia's games.

Her indifferent response seemed to catch them off guard. Her parents exchanged a quick glance, and Olivia's fingers clenched against the fabric of her dress.

"Aunt Eleanor, can you persuade Sister? I truly regret everything," Olivia said, her voice trembling as she turned to Eleanor with misty eyes.

But behind that fragile act, her thoughts burned with resentment. She should be grateful to me. If not for me, how could she have married Leonard?

She bit her lip, keeping her mask in place. I have to get him back.

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped Melisa's lips. "Shouldn't you be apologizing to me?"

Olivia's eyes widened slightly before she lowered her head further, her voice soft and pitiful. "Sister…" she murmured, as if she were the one being wronged.

Melisa's gaze flickered around the room. Aunt Eleanor didn't seem fooled, but her parents? Their expressions darkened with anger.

"Melisa!" her father snapped, gritting his teeth. If they weren't in someone else's house, she knew he wouldn't hesitate to raise his hand.

"Melisa, your sister has already apologized. Must you create trouble over this?" Camilla scolded, her voice laced with frustration as she gently massaged her husband's arm, trying to calm him down.

"Should I forgive just because she apologized?!" Melisa's voice rang out, sharp and unyielding. "This isn't about a broken toy anymore—it's my life!"

Her outburst left the room in stunned silence. Even Olivia, who had been putting on her usual act, flinched slightly at the raw emotion in Melisa's voice.

Aunt Eleanor remained composed, her keen eyes observing the situation, while Uncle George set down his teacup with a quiet clink, his expression unreadable.

Camilla's lips parted in shock, her carefully maintained poise slipping. Robert's face darkened further, his fingers curling into a fist against his knee.

Olivia, for once, had no words. The usual misty-eyed, wronged expression faltered.

Melisa took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she willed herself to stay in control. This time, she wouldn't let them twist things in their favor.

The silence in the room was suffocating as Melisa exhaled slowly, reigning in her emotions. Aunt Eleanor's warm hand enclosed hers, a silent gesture of support.

"You should leave," Melisa said, her voice now steady.

Her parents hesitated, their gazes flickering toward Mr. Soveir. Melisa could clearly see their thoughts.

Mr. Soveir, who had quietly observed the exchange, set his coffee cup down with a soft clink. His sharp gaze swept over his business partners, his expression unreadable.

"You heard Melisa," he said firmly. "This is her home now. If she asks you to leave, I expect you to respect her choice."

Her father inhaled sharply, his frustration evident in the tight clench of his jaw.

"We'll talk later," he said, his gaze cold as he looked at the daughter who had once been so obedient—now making him a fool in front of others.

"Melisa, we only came to see you. You've always been a sweet child—why are you throwing a tantrum?" her mother said, her voice softly.

Olivia, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Sis, I know I was wrong. It's my fault. But please, don't be angry at Mom and Dad." Her voice was soft, laced with just the right amount of guilt and vulnerability.

Melisa ignored Olivia, her gaze fixed on her mother. She had often heard people say that no matter how distant a mother seemed, she would always love her children. But those people had clearly never met someone like her family.

"Mother, I know exactly why you're here," Melisa said, her voice steady, her smile sharp and void of warmth. "Leave now—unless you want me to make this even uglier."

Her mother hesitated, while Melisa caught the flicker of malice in Olivia's eyes—quickly masked by a pitiful expression.

"Sister, you should consider joining the entertainment industry. Your talent seems to align more with acting," Melisa said with a bright smile, her words laced with mockery.

Olivia's tear-filled eyes widened before she turned and ran out of the room, sobbing dramatically.

"Olivia…" Her mother called after her, then cast Melisa a sharp glance before following her daughter and husband out.

As the door clicked shut, silence settled over the room, thick with unspoken emotions.

"I'm sorry for turning this into a spectacle," Melisa murmured, lowering her gaze.

Aunt Eleanor pulled her into a gentle embrace. "You did the right thing, dear."

At her words, Melisa let out a shaky breath, silent tears slipping down her cheeks before she quickly wiped them away.

When she looked at Uncle George, he gave her a reassuring smile.

Their quiet moment was suddenly interrupted by hurried footsteps.

"Sir, Madam…" The butler stopped abruptly at the entrance, his gaze flickering toward Melisa with hesitation.