"Was this done deliberately to offend me?"
He thought silently, staring at his daughter. Both mother and daughter. He had always feared a day like this would come — the day Vanessa repeated the same mistake her mother had made. That fear was the very reason he had been so strict, so cold toward her all these years. He had used her mother's mistakes as a warning, a reference point, thinking it would keep her on the right path.
It clearly hadn't worked.
"Dad..." Vanessa stepped forward, remorseful. "It wasn't intentional," she said quietly, trying to explain herself.
"What is he doing?" Katrina muttered to her daughter, dissatisfied with how the scene was unfolding. "Why is he suddenly going soft?" She had planned this perfectly — she wanted to watch father and daughter fall into a full blown cold war, not whatever this was turning into. Katelyn stepped forward carefully behind her mother, not wanting to look like the obvious troublemaker she was.
"Victor." Katrina's voice cut across the room. "What do you think you're doing? Don't tell me you're just going to let her off the hook that easily." She spread her hands wide. "Do you have any idea how much shame and disgrace she has brought on this family? The same family you worked so tirelessly to build? You're fine with her getting pregnant out of wedlock? You—"
"Silence!" Mr. Victor's eyes snapped to her. "Watch your tongue and how you speak to me." His voice was cold and measured. "She is my daughter. I'll be the one to handle this."
"What nonsense!" Katrina protested, suddenly wrapping herself in the costume of a concerned mother. "She's my daughter too!"
Vanessa had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing out loud.
Is she serious right now? Since when? When has she ever once treated me like a daughter? She stared at Katrina. Is this her way of painting herself as the caring mother in front of Dad? How pathetic.
"Dad, Mom's right," Katelyn chimed in, sensing the perfect opportunity to dig the knife in deeper. "If it were me, you wouldn't have let it go this easily."
That was all it took to light the match.
The brief quiet that had settled over the room vanished instantly. Katrina and Katelyn fed off each other, taking turns hurling insults, calling Vanessa names she didn't deserve, and working themselves into a frenzy. Katrina — who had been waiting for exactly a moment like this — didn't hold back. She drew back her hand and landed a hard slap across Vanessa's cheek. Then another.
Vanessa felt her lip split. She tasted blood.
But she didn't move.
She didn't flinch, didn't cry, didn't give them the satisfaction. She stood completely still while they raved. She already knew this about them — they were only truly happy when she was in tears. Moments like this were entertainment to them.
BANG.
Mr. Victor fired a single shot into the air from his pistol.
The room went dead silent.
Pupils contracting...
Eyes shut. Open.
"Ah—!" Vanessa gasped, snapping back to the present.
The dish slipped from her hands before she could catch it. It hit the kitchen floor and shattered — sharp pieces scattering across the tiles in every direction.
"Hey — what was that sound from the kitchen?" Stella called out to Vigil, a house staff who was walking past balancing a tray carefully loaded with four courses of food.
"I have no idea," Vigil answered quickly.
But that was a lie. Deep down, she already knew. Vanessa. She always knew when something involved that girl.
Poor thing, she thought, her chest tightening with sympathy. Why was Vanessa always the one stuck doing dishes? Why not anything else? It's pure mistreatment.
But then her sympathy shifted slightly into mild frustration. She's so clumsy though. She really needs to stop breaking things. That's not going to help her case at all.
Before Vigil could even finish that thought, the sound of sharp, purposeful footsteps cut through the hallway. The madam was already moving toward the kitchen — fast and furious.
"Oh no," Vigil whispered, her stomach dropping. She was almost in tears just thinking about what awaited Vanessa in there. It was no secret that the madam had no love for that girl. Vigil had once heard her call Vanessa a "green-eyed creature" — cruel, unnecessary words that had stuck with Vigil ever since. She still couldn't believe a woman of that standing, with that kind of status and influence, could stoop so low over something so petty.
Some people, Vigil shook her head slowly, really aren't worth the titles they carry.