The sneer that twisted Isaac's face was barely concealed, a flash of raw animosity that betrayed the depth of his resentment towards the Ashwood family. He clearly held a deepseated grudge, and Primrose sensed that his feelings ran far beyond mere professional disagreement.
"Here is their neighborhood," he said, sliding a tablet across the table displaying a satellite image of an opulent residential area nestled amongst rolling hills overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The houses were sprawling villas with manicured gardens, swimming pools, and private security gates – a testament to the Ashwood's considerable wealth and influence.
Primrose's expression remained impassive as she studied the image, but beneath her calm exterior, a subtle shift occurred. The simmering anger she'd suppressed for so long began to surface, fueled by the injustice of her past and the lingering bitterness of betrayal.
The decisive tone in Primrose's voice brooked no argument. The desire to confront her past, to finally lay the ghosts of the Ashwood family to rest, was palpable.
"Let's go now so we can get over it," she declared, rising from the table with a renewed sense of purpose.
She retreated to her bedroom, her movements swift and efficient. The sounds of running water echoed through the penthouse as she showered, washing away the lingering remnants of sleep and preparing herself for the day ahead.
Emerging from the bathroom, she swiftly dressed in a pair of comfortable jogger pants and a sleek red crop top – a practical yet stylish ensemble that reflected her understated confidence. A black baseball cap completed the look, shielding her eyes from the Sicilian sun and adding a touch of anonymity to her appearance.
She rejoined Isaac in the kitchen, her expression resolute.
The drive to the Mediterranean Sea neighborhood was silent, punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the occasional passing car. Primrose remained largely impassive, her gaze fixed on the unfolding landscape. She feigned disinterest in the opulent surroundings, but her senses were acutely attuned to every detail – the architectural style of the houses, the types of cars parked in driveways, the security measures in place.
As they pulled up to a particularly lavish estate – a sprawling villa with manicured gardens and a commanding view of the sea – Primrose's expression hardened slightly. This was it. The Ashwood's fortress.
"Wait in the car," she instructed Isaac, her voice clipped and devoid of emotion.
"It will only take a couple of minutes."
She stepped out of the car and surveyed her surroundings with a cool detachment.
The pristine perfection of the Ashwood's home was almost suffocating. The air hung heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and the hushed tones of polite conversation. Primrose wrinkled her nose, a silent snort escaping her lips. The forced elegance, the carefully curated atmosphere – it all felt utterly artificial.
She heard laughter – brittle, superficial laughter that grated on her nerves – and without hesitation, she kicked open the living room door, shattering the illusion of tranquility.
The scene that greeted her was a tableau of privilege and disdain. An elegant woman – Nova, her former adoptive mother – sat across from a vapidlooking teenage girl named Cora, engaged in what appeared to be a game of chess. A young man, presumably James, lounged nearby, radiating an air of entitled boredom.
Everyone's heads snapped towards her, their expressions frozen in a mixture of shock and outrage. The laughter died in their throats, replaced by a stunned silence. Their eyes widened, then paled as they registered the unexpected intrusion.
"Knock knock bitches, I am out," Primrose said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stepped further into the room and casually settled into a chair at the chessboard, deliberately disrupting the game.
"Primrose! What are you doing here! If you think…" Nova sputtered, her face reddening with anger. She started to launch into a tirade, but Primrose cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Noisy," Primrose said flatly, her gaze fixed on the chessboard. She remembered Cora – one year older than her – and the constant stream of petty grievances and malicious pranks she
had inflicted upon her during their time together. Cora had always been jealous of Primrose's intelligence and resourcefulness, and she'd made it her mission to make Primrose's life as difficult as possible.
"Sister, how is it…" Cora began, her voice laced with a saccharine sweetness that Primrose found particularly grating.
"What? Am I not allowed to come here? After all, I still do have the Ashwood last name?" Primrose retorted, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hehe? Anyway, I'm not here for trouble, just tell me: do you know anything about my birth family?"
James abruptly stood up, his face contorted with rage as he pointed an accusing finger at Primrose.
"You ungrateful! Walking in like you own the place!" he shouted.
"Is a dog barking?" Primrose countered, her voice cool and dismissive. She didn't even bother to look at him, her focus remaining fixed on the chessboard.
"You!" James sputtered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.
"Humph! Primrose! Your family are nothing! Dirt poor and homeless!" Nova interjected, her voice dripping with arrogance. She clearly relished the opportunity to belittle Primrose and assert her family's superiority.
Primrose finally lifted her gaze, her eyes locking with Nova's. A slow, predatory smile spread across her lips.
"So what?" she said, her voice dangerously low.
"Don't forget what I did for your precious real daughter, Selena."
The room fell silent once more, the air thick with tension.
"Primrose let me tell you this! Selena is a genius! She has a high academic record, pianist, and violinist, she is so talented yet you! Are good for nothing unlike Selena who is now pampered and protected you better get out of here!" Nova said. Primrose looked at Nova for a longtime. How troublesome this is annoying she let out a yawn.
"Primrose, I know you are jealous and you are upset but how did you even know we are in Italy?" Cora asked acting like a big sister. Primrose just looked straight at Cora before she looked out of the window.
"How I found you does it matter? What shocked most is the lies you did? Forget it, to me you guys aren't worth it," Primrose said.
"You better not bother Selena you worthless idiot!" Nova said.
"Yeah and we won't give you money," James said. In the Ashwood Family they are four sons and two girls James is now 24 years old, the oldest son Ricky is 23, the second son is 22 years old, and the fourth son is 21. Cora is also 21 years old. Now she thinks about it these people are so full of themselves.