Chapter 1 - A Battlefield Called Home

Letisha’s POV

I was walking into a lion’s den.

My hand trembled as it hovered above the doorknob, refusing to acknowledge my brain’s command to close over the cold metal. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless thrum that drowned out rational thought. I swallowed, but my throat was dry and tight. My palms were slick, the sweat cooling against my skin in the afternoon draft.

‘Just open the damn door, Leti!’ I mentally scolded myself. ‘This is your home.’

That’s what I tried to tell myself, but neither my body nor my heart believed the words.

Not anymore.

It used to be my home. It used to be a place filled with love and laughter. It used to be my happy place. But that seemed like such a long time ago, it might as well have been another lifetime.

I tried to ignore the influence of memories, lifting my hand to knock the door. Then my hand was frozen because the door was opened from inside. It was Gabriella, my stepmother, standing behind the door, showing me a kind smile that I had never seen before.

“It’s so gald to see you, Letisha,” She tried to hug me, “How have you been lately?”

I stepped back, avoding her hands.

It was not easy to stay together with Gabriella. Although she smiled at me, I would never guess what she was thinking about. When she just married my father a few years ago, I also thought she was a kind woman. I even expected to get along with her. But I was wrong. The truth was my relationship with my father got worse and worse, and I was pretty sure she played a great role in this result.

“You called me back. You said you had important things to tell me,” I said, “Now I’m here. Whatever you need to say, tell me now.”

Gabriella was stunned. She would never expect I would be so impolite to her. I swore I didn’t mean that. I just didn’t want to have any relationship with them.

“Why don’t you come in, and we’ll sit down and have a good talk?” Gabriella was very gentle, more than I imagined, “In fact, your father and I missed you very much.”

I didn’t believe even one word she said, especially the part about my father.

“I have a part-time job to do. If you refuse to talk, I should leave now.”

I turn around, ready to step out of here. This house was left by my mother, but my father took it. Now everything in it had changed, so there was no reason for me to stay here.

I heard Gabriella calling me, but I didn’t stop. When I passed by the swimming pool, someone rushed to me. I heard the footsteps, but it was too late to avoid. The next moment, I fell into the swimming pool, choked on a mouthful of water.

Fortunately, I had learned to swim. Although it was difficult, I still got out of the pool. What I saw was Fiona, my stepsister, standing by the pool, with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” She apologized to me, without any sincerity, “Look at you, how embarrassing. I think you need to change into some new clothes.”

Gabriella agreed with her daughter, “Come with me. I have your old clothes in your former room. I’ll get them for you.”

She knew Fiona did it on purpose, but she chose to ignore it. Apparently, she wanted me to stay, making me more and more confused.

Why did she need me? Was I so important to them?

I refused her offer to accompany me, and found my former room. It was totally different from my memory. Just like Gabriella, the way she lived in the house was a stark difference from how my mother used to be. She could outshine anyone when she chose to dress up, but when she was home, she always chose to dress for comfort.

‘If I can’t even be comfortable in my own home, what’s the point?’ she’d always say.

The diamonds and pearls currently draped across Fiona and her mother’s throats were anything but comfortable.

They were such a cliche as far as a step-family was concerned. Gorgeous and devious to the core.

When I changed clothes and stepped into the living room, Gabriella and Fiona were sitting on the sofa. I ignored my stepmother, who stood up and walked close to me, turning to the door.

“I should go.”

“Don’t go, Letisha, dear. You’ve…grown,” she smiled serenely, almost as if she had offered me a compliment despite the flicker of disapproval that shone in her gaze as they flickered over my jeans and t-shirt. And I hadn’t grown much at all. Not since I was about 16. My 5ft 3inch, slender frame hadn’t changed much since. I suppose my hair had gotten longer. The long, jet-black braid fell almost to my waist now.

But I guess that was the least criticizing word she could come up with.

“Thank you,” I muttered in response to her comment.

“Here!” Fiona interrupted excitedly, picking up a tray of lemon cookies. “Missy made them. They’re your favorites, right?”

Missy was our housekeeper and cook. She had been hired by my mother and had been more like a grandmother than household staff. She had adored my mother—much like anyone who had met her. She also disapproved of Gabriella and Fiona intensely, though she was too much of a professional to ever show it in their presence. A part of me had thought she had remained here after my mother’s passing to look after me, but maybe I’d been wrong. I hadn’t been back to this place for years, and she was still here.

I sighed, and despite the nostalgic feeling seeing those cookies gave me, I shook my head in rejection. “No, thank you.”

My stomach was in too much distress to eat anything right now.

“What about this? Mom ordered them from that store you used to be obsessed with,” Fiona said, reaching for another tray. This one was laden with familiar-looking treats.

My throat closed up with emotion.

‘That store I used to be obsessed with’ was my mother’s favorite candy store. We used to take leisurely walks to the quaint little shop to pick out our dessert every evening. My father used to grumble good-naturedly that so much sugar was bad for us.

I had been forbidden from going there after Gabriella learned of it. And subsequently been punished whenever I’d snuck out to go there anyway.

With a shaky hand, I reached for the chocolate caramel bar—my mother’s favorite. I simply held it, unable to bring it to my lips.

“Now then,” Gabriella cleared her throat. “How’s school going?”

I lifted my eyes from the candy in my hand to give Gabrialla a confused look, wariness stirring in my gut. She had no doubt been responsible for the cookies and candy treats. And now she was asking about my studies.

Her attentiveness could only spell trouble for me.

With my guard up, I relayed as little information as I could manage about school, glossing over my many accomplishments. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was outshining her beloved daughter.

I sighed in relief when she nodded once, seemingly unimpressed with the information I had relayed.

“What about Michael? How’s he doing these days?”

My eyes narrowed in suspicion at Fiona’s sudden question.

Michael was my boyfriend, much to Fiona’s disbelief. She never tried to hide the fact that she didn’t believe I was good enough for Michael. In her mind, I was too inconspicuous to be dating one of the most handsome guys at our school. Michael’s father was also the CEO of a very prosperous company, which meant he was also wealthy.

Most of all, Fiona simply didn’t understand why Michael had decided to pursue me instead of her. She had been this way since she was a child. Always unreasonably jealous. Even though my father never spared any expense to make her happy, she had always been fixated on taking my things—toys, clothes…and eventually my father and this house.

I knew she wanted Michael not only because of his looks and wealth but because he was mine.

Except, I was no longer that naive little girl who had simply let her have her way.

“He’s fine,” I responded succinctly.

“Haven’t you two broken up yet? Honestly, Letisha, there’s simply no accounting for taste, is there?” She said it with a friendly tone, but her meaning was clear.

I stood abruptly. “It’s been a long day, I’ll go upstairs to freshen up—”

“No need.” My father’s voice echoed into the living room as he stepped through the entrance. “I called you back here since there are important things we need to discuss.”

Shock pinged through me.

He was the one who had summoned me? I had simply assumed it was my stepmother since she had been the one to call me.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to my father in years.

My filial piety had been reduced to sending him gifts with my meager earnings on his birthday. I suppose I could have called, but I’d simply been too afraid of his rejection.

My feelings towards my father were a complicated mess. While I had eventually accepted Gabriella and Fiona’s treatment, I simply could not understand how my own father could have abandoned his only child.

I couldn’t reconcile the warm, caring father I had known as a child with this cold, unfeeling man standing before me.

So I hadn’t called. And neither had he.

John Sanchez had grown much older than I had expected. He’d maintained his jet-black hair into his forties. But now, his entire head of hair was white and thinning. Though his intimidating figure hadn’t dwindled, there was a slump to his shoulders that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him.

“Daddy! Welcome home!” Fiona ran to greet my father as she had done to me, leading him over to a high-back chair.

His eyes warmed as they looked at my stepsister before they hardened as they returned to me. I ignored the jagged wound in my chest that threatened to open up. I would not allow myself to be hurt by his indifference.

“Father,” I greeted, much as I had greeted his wife. I had stopped calling him ‘dad’ a long time ago. Much as it stung, there was no feeling of affection between us anymore, either.

I resumed my seat and waited patiently for whatever it was he had to say. I assumed it was important since he’d called me back here after so many years.

“I’ve recently come to the realization that I’ve been neglecting you, my child,” John said suddenly.

I stiffened in surprise. Whatever I had been expecting him to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I understand you’ve acquired several scholarships and taken on part-time work to supplement your living expenses.”

I said nothing. Pointing out that I’d only done so because the meager allowance he sent was barely enough to cover food, much less tuition, would only serve to prolong this conversation. Was that what this was about? Had he suddenly realized how ridiculous it was to pay for his stepdaughter’s education while leaving his firstborn to fend for herself?

Had he called me here to offer me money? While it didn’t make sense that he’d suddenly gained a conscience after so many years, I wasn’t about to allow pride to hinder me. Academic scholarships were extremely competitive to come by at my school. Working to keep my grades up while I worked several part-time jobs was an exhausting feat. If he wanted to make my life easier in that regard, I wasn’t going to reject his offer. But still…I couldn’t shake this feeling of uneasiness.

“That’s why I’ve decided it’s time for you to get married.”