Chapter 11 - AUNT SIMONE'S WEAKNESS
Two days after the incident,
Aunt Simone attempted to visit us at our apartment,
her usual arrogance entirely replaced by desperation.
She didn't wear her expensive pearls this time,
opting for a plain coat to avoid being recognized by neighbors.
I opened the door only an inch,
blocking her entry into our safe space.
"What do you want,
Simone?"
I asked,
my voice dripping with deep disgust.
"Please,
we need to talk,"
she pleaded,
her hands shaking violently as she clutched her purse.
"Marcus is losing everything,
and it is affecting my personal trust fund,"
she admitted,
revealing her true,
selfish motivation.
"The bank is freezing our family assets because of the lawsuits,"
she whined,
looking at me with pathetic eyes.
"Just tell the lawyers to drop the personal claims against the estate,"
she begged,
reaching out to touch my arm.
I stepped back,
narrowing my eyes at the woman who had led my daughter to her exile.
"You watched her get kicked out into the snow,"
I reminded her,
my voice rising slightly.
"You told her she wasn't part of the real family,"
I added,
refusing to let her forget her cruelty.
"Now you want me to care about your luxury lifestyle?"
I asked,
letting out a sharp laugh.
"Get off my property before I call the police,"
I threatened,
slamming the heavy door in her face.
May you like
I heard her sobbing in the hallway,
realizing the family shield had completely shattered.
