Chapter Eight
816 Words
Morning came too soon.
I had barely slept, tossing and turning with the memory of last night. The whispers, the fake claps, my stepsister’s smug smirk. But also Daniel’s calm voice beside me, the way he squeezed my hand under the table like he wasn’t just playing a part.
Still, I wasn’t ready for round two.
I was sipping weak coffee in the guest room when a knock rattled the door. Before I could answer, it creaked open and my father poked his head in.
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, almost nervously. “Can I… can we talk for a moment? Downstairs?”
Something in his tone made my stomach knot.
When I came down, I found not just my father but my stepmother, stepsister, and her husband already gathered in the sitting room. My father gestured for me to sit. Daniel was already there, calm and collected, as if he’d been waiting.
My stepmother poured tea with exaggerated grace, her smile sharp. “We were just curious about your… fiancé,” she said sweetly.
Venessa leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Yes, Daniel, tell us. How did you two meet? What do you do?”
The room was too quiet. All eyes are on him.
I wanted to speak, to save him from this trap, but Daniel answered before I could.
“I’m between jobs at the moment,” he said evenly, his tone casual. “Looking for something steady.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
Then my stepmother laughed, soft, cruel. “Oh, how… humble.”
My stepsister’s smirk widened. “So you’re telling me,” she said slowly, drawing out each word, “that my dear sister found herself another man with no prospects? How charming. Like mother, like daughter, hmm?”
I clenched my fists in my lap, nails digging into my skin.
Daniel didn’t flinch. He didn’t defend himself. He only leaned back, unbothered, as if their words slid right off him.
But I felt each one like a dagger.
My father cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “What matters is that she’s happy,” he said weakly, but his eyes didn’t quite meet mine.
The conversation dragged on, my stepmother sprinkling in little barbs about “stability” and “responsibility,” my stepsister patting her husband’s arm like she’d won the golden prize.
Through it all, Daniel stayed silent, sipping his tea with the composure of a man who owed no one an explanation.
When it was finally over and we were alone again, I turned to him, my chest burning.
“Why would you say that?” I whispered harshly.
“Why lie about not working?”
He looked at me, calm as ever, but his eyes softened for the briefest second.
“Because,” he said quietly, “sometimes it’s better to let people underestimate you.”
Then he walked away, leaving me shaken and more curious about him than ever.
******
On the third day, Daniel sat outside in the corridor, his phone in his hand, eyes down as he scrolled. He wasn’t calling anyone, just idly pressing at the screen.
That was when Venessa stepped outside. She noticed the watch glinting on his wrist–sleek, expensive, and definitely not the kind of thing a man “between jobs” should be wearing.
Her lips curled. “That watch looks… pricey,” she said lightly. “Strange for someone who claims he’s broke.”
Daniel lifted his eyes to hers, calm as ever. “It’s a replica. Cheaper version of the real thing,” he said.
She narrowed her gaze but forced a little laugh. “If you say so.”
She went back inside, suspicion gnawing at her.
That evening, while walking alone in the compound, Daniel finally took a call. His voice was low but firm, cutting through the quiet.
“If he can’t deliver the numbers by Friday, fire him. No excuses.”
Venessa, lingering at the corner, froze at the words. Fire him?
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing again, but before she could ask questions, Daniel ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. He didn’t even notice her watching, then he said ”Ohh, it's one of my domestic staff”
Domestic staff? For one who doesn't work?
Venessa cornered her husband in their room later on “You barely looked at me all dinner,” she accused, her voice sharp. “You’re always on that phone, never me.”
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I was working. A contract, okay? Something big.”
She laughed bitterly. “Don’t lie to me. You were sulking. You couldn’t even stand seeing your ex smiling with someone else.”
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
And upstairs, I remained in the dark, clueless about the silent battles unraveling beneath my father’s roof.
- Writer
