Revenge Of The Jilted Bride (Ophelia) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Severing Ties

Owen sat for a moment, his expression softening, as if preparing for what he was about to say. "I know life hasn't been easy for you out there," he began, his voice heavy with faux sympathy. "We owe you for those lost years.

"To make it right, your mother and I have found a good family for you. They may not be a prestigious lineage, but they can ensure you a comfortable life."

His tone was dismissive and condescending, like he were offering charity to a beggar.

In her last life, when Owen had said those words, Ophelia had begged and pleaded. She hadn't wanted to be forced into a marriage when she'd been reunited with her family.

But now, she only wanted to cut herself free from this so-called "family" and never look back.

"Dad, are you seriously going to marry Ophelia off to the owner of Rosewood Manor?" The voice came from the doorway, a youthful but indignant tone. It was Scott Hastings, Owen's youngest son. He was a freshman in high school and the only person in the house who treated Ophelia like a family member.

"You little brat, stay out of this," Owen snapped, his face darkening with irritation. He didn't take kindly to being challenged, least of all by his teenage son.

Scott wasn't having it, though. "I'm not a kid anymore. Is she really your daughter? I've heard about that old man living in Rosewood Manor. He's not just old. He's mentally unstable and disabled. You're sending her there to live as a widow in all but name."

"Shut your mouth." Owen's voice thundered through the room, a command that silenced the air around them. In this house, Owen's authority was law, and no one dared defy him.

Nathan strolled up behind Scott and threw an arm around his younger brother's neck, shushing him mockingly. "Hush, Scott. Mom and Dad are talking. You don't get a say in this."

He shot Ophelia a smug, sideways glance, thinking, 'Good riddance. She's finally gonna get lost. This chick from the slums is the reason why I've been the laughing stock among my rich friends for six whole months. They all think I might catch some disease from her.'

Scott tried to fight back and say something, but Nathan was much stronger, dragging the boy up the stairs, his hand clamped over Scott's mouth. Despite his protests, Scott was still just a teenager and couldn't compete with Nathan's muscular build.

Now that Scott had pointed out the ugly, glaring truth, Owen decided to drop the pretense. Emily, the daughter he had raised with such care and attention, was meant for a grand marriage alliance with the prestigious Lewis family.

As for the marriage to Rosewood Manor's owner, it was an old arrangement left behind by Owen's father, Lennon Hastings. At first, Owen had dismissed it as unimportant. But now, with the estate offering 30 million dollars to secure a bride, Owen wasn't about to turn that kind of money down.

"This marriage is part of your grandfather's legacy," Owen said, his tone firm. "Emily's health isn't suited for it, and as our biological daughter, it's only right that you marry the owner of Rosewood Manor. If you refuse—"

"I'll marry him."Ophelia's words were quick and sharp, leaving no room for argument.

Owen blinked, caught off guard. He hadn't expected her to agree so easily. In fact, he'd been ready to wield the ultimate threat—to cut her off from the family if she refused. But now, with her sudden compliance, he swallowed back the words, unsure of what to say next.

A grin slowly spread across his face, trying to mask his surprise. "I knew you'd be reasonable. Our family won't forget this, Ophelia. If you have any requests, just ask. I'll do my best to fulfill them."

His sudden shift to warmth made her stomach turn. She wasn't used to his smiles—they were always laced with hidden motives. "I only have one request," she said, her voice steady but with a cold edge that even Owen couldn't ignore.

"Go ahead," he replied, still smiling.

Ophelia's lips curved into something resembling a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "My identity papers. They were never corrected after my return."

"Oh, that's all?" Owen chuckled, relieved. "I'll have someone take care of it on Monday. Don't worry." He reached out, intending to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but Ophelia stepped back before he could touch her.

Her expression hardened, all traces of a smile vanishing. "There's no need. As of today, I'm formally cutting ties with the Hastings family. From this moment on, I, Ophelia, have nothing to do with any of you."

Oddly enough, as those words left her lips, Ophelia felt a sharp stab of pain in her heart. Yet, it didn't matter anymore; she believed that true strength came from a place of indifference.

Owen's expression darkened, the brief flicker of softness vanishing as his brows knit together in anger. "What do you mean by that?" His voice had a dangerous edge to it now.

"Exactly what I said," Ophelia replied calmly, her gaze unwavering.

Nathan, always the opportunist, sauntered down the stairs, his lips curling into a sneer. "You sure about this, Ophelia? You're really going to give up all the wealth and comfort that comes with being part of this family?" His tone dripped with disbelief. He didn't think she had it in her.