Heather made her way into the house as she usually did, doubting that anyone had missed her last night when she did not come home. In her family, indifference and ignorance were household values. However, panic gripped her as soon as she stepped past the threshold, for she saw a couple standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of her, assessing her with stern looks on their faces—the couple was none other than her parents themselves.
Thinking that they were probably furious about last night, she grew flustered. Nonetheless, she quickly composed herself and tried to brush past them nonchalantly, but was halted in her tracks when her father pulled her by the elbow.
She frowned at this. She was not used to physical contact with her parents, much less being treated with such hostility. There was a clear aggravation in the way they handled her that she couldn’t help but bristle at the gesture.
“Is there something wrong, Father?” Heather’s expression was stony and the good mood she had been in was completely ruined. She could feel her arm throbbing from where Stephen’s fingers dug into her flesh as he gripped her elbow.
“Bold of you to come home after last night!” Stephen thundered and it was a sharp contrast to his usual cheery demeanor. Heather could hear alarm bells ringing in her head as she registered his rage and she instinctively knew that something bad had happened.
Standing next to him, Camille tugged on his sleeve and said urgently, “We’ll talk about it when we’re inside, Stephen. The doorstep is no place for lectures.”
Feeling irritated, Heather shrugged off his hand and said icily, “I’m going to need an explanation, Father.” She had never been man-handled like this before and her pride was her besetting sin. There was no way she would not retaliate after he had embarrassed her like that.
“Heather, you’re in big trouble,” Camille explained with her brows drawn together, which only made Heather even more bewildered.
“What in the world are you talking about?” she demanded, her tone full of annoyance. Her family rarely interfered in her personal affairs and that had been the case ever since she attained independence from them. She liked to think of it as the glorious age of her rebellion.
Besides, her grandfather—Robert—often sang praises of her to everyone else. Knowing that he would always be there to stand up for her, Heather slowly grew liberal and acted on her own whim and fancy. There was nothing her parents could do or say about her.
“Let’s talk inside,” Stephen said now through gritted teeth as he shot her a dark look. He made it sound as if she had committed some unforgivable crime.
Heather scoffed and did not so much as spare them a glance. “How ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath. Then, she turned on her heel to leave, not wanting to waste another second with them.
In reality, there was nothing surprising about her apathy toward them. Despite her outstanding achievements, Stephen had always been resentful of the fact that she was not a son, and he blamed Camille for her inability to produce a male heir for him.
He held some unresolved grudge against Heather, as though her existence was the sole reason for his lack of authority in the Langston Family. He was also deeply envious of his elder brother, who had two sons and thus had all the authority in the family.
Camille, on the other hand, was soft by nature. She habitually deferred to her husband and was constantly terrified that she would be abandoned by him if she did not please him in any way. Naturally, her yearning for acknowledgement had driven a wedge between her and her daughter.
As for Heather, her personality and temper were wrought by her parents’ lack of affirmation of her. If her grandfather did not mind the fact that she was born a daughter, she did not see why her parents should. At some point, her tolerance toward them began to wither away.
Presently, she sauntered into the living room and saw that Robert was seated in his armchair. “Grandpa,” she called out sweetly. She knew that the only person she had to please was her grandfather.
Robert’s taste and preferences had changed after he had had his heart broken all those years ago, which accounted for the Langston Family’s indulgence in over-the-top, opulent aesthetics.
Nevertheless, he was a man with real knowledge and innate talent. His words and decisions carried the most weight in the family and he had vast experience in the business world. It was no surprise at all that Heather looked up to him as a role model.
Nowadays, Robert was no longer interested in material comforts and grandeur. In what could only be described as a much-welcomed change of style, he began to favor plain and neutral tones that were reminiscent of his good old days. As such, he was delighted to see that Heather, too, dressed in pastel hues, which were part of her wardrobe staples. It only made him like her even more.
“Come here, Heather. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about,” Robert commented heavily. Upon hearing the sullen tone in his voice, Heather couldn’t help but panic.
Meanwhile, after following her into the living room, Stephen chided accusingly, “You ungrateful girl—how dare you disrespect me like this?” Camille, on the other hand, fell in step behind him, looking wary as she kept silent.
Knowing that she was surrounded, Heather did not bother looking over her shoulder as she smiled and said, “What is it that you want to talk to me about, Grandpa?” As far as she was concerned, the only person in the family to whom she respected was Robert.
Robert had to admit that he had been overly-indulgent with her. She had a fiery personality that was similar to Lisa’s—she stood for nobody’s nonsense and she acted however she liked, which he deemed were endearing traits.
While the girl was addressing her grandfather, Stephen bristled at her blatant show of disrespect. He was enraged by how she had deliberately ignored him and grew resentful at the thought of how Robert berated him more than he did Heather.
Unable to contain his anger, he marched forward and brought his hand down on her, intending to slap her across the face. Thankfully, Heather was in a much better state and she managed to dodge in time.
She was enraged at her father’s actions and so was Robert. Stephen had as good as doomed himself now.
“Father,” she said in a warning tone as she tightened her grip on his wrist. Years of training had resulted in her having enough strength to make men break into cold sweat.
“You ingrate!” Stephen bit out, trying to resist the pain as he lifted his free hand and attempted to strike her once more.
Upon seeing this, Heather shoved him away and snapped, “Don’t embarrass yourself in front of Grandpa.” Not wanting to appear unruly in front of Robert, she held herself back.
“Don’t humiliate yourself here, Stephen,” Robert barked. In all honesty, he wondered how he ended up with a son like him. While his first son did not have the brightest of minds, he was still much better than Stephen, who was hopelessly incompetent.
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third class script,don't waste your time on it....