Chapter 4 Never!
949 Words
Charles thought back to the encounter in the garden with Iris.
He could see from her eyes that she knew nothing. Yes, she knew nothing, and yet she got everything! Not just the Ortega family's wealth, but also his father's affection!
No, something was wrong! She was 21, just five years younger than him, and his mother died when he was six, meaning his father had been unfaithful before she passed...
Anger replaced the small pang of grievance, and Charles couldn't decide if it was from his jealousy of Iris or Randall's betrayal. He unconsciously clenched his fist and smashed it against the doorframe.
"Charles, is that you? Come in."
Of course, he had to go in. Charles clenched his jaw and pushed open the door, desperately hoping to learn the truth!
The study was filled with an intimate atmosphere. Randall sat in a leather chair behind the desk while Tessa, now in a form-fitting dress, leaned on the desk, smiling as she turned to look.
Charles hesitated, feeling like an intruder in a scene of bliss, the outcast in this family.
After a deep breath, Charles spoke calmly. "Father, I heard—"
Randall didn't give him a chance to ask, "Handle Iris' thesis, will you?"
"I know about it." He didn't comment on the thesis itself. Like every time before, it seemed to be another test of Charles' abilities. "Make sure Iris graduates, no matter what."
Charles wanted to ask his question, but he saw Tessa playing with Randall's fingers.
He felt isolated from their cozy exchange, like the only black-and-white figure in a colored photo.
Just forget it. He didn't want to make himself more pathetic by learning the truth.
Right now, he didn't want to stay there another second.
Meanwhile, Iris was lying on her bed, updating her Twitter.
That was her other domain.
Unlike her boring, bookish persona at school, she shared her music tastes and even posted some of her creations on this account.
And, of course, she would also share some of her daily feelings.
Epiphany: What a rough day! Met some rude, obnoxious people. Probably have to deal with them often. Ugh!
The next second, a new message notification popped up on her phone.
Iris held her phone above her face, counting down in her mind before opening her eyes. "Three, two, one!"
The familiar account appeared in the notification. "Of course, it's you again."
The first commenter on her posts was always Lsland001.
Iris hugged her phone, falling back into the soft bed.
Sometimes, she suspected she was on Mr. 001's special alert list because he always commented first with his well-tasted insights.
It made her look forward to his replies, even posting just to see his response.
She imagined him as a mature, financially stable middle-aged man.
Because once, he suggested adding a clarinet track to her new song, and when Iris said she couldn't find a clarinet track, he had his household staff record one and send it to her.
What a heartwarming cross-generational friendship!
Lsland001: Same here, worst day of my life.
Before Iris could reply, he sent another comment.
Lsland001: Any new songs? Need something to lift my spirits.
Having her work anticipated was a joy, and Iris felt her terrible mood brighten at his words.
The next morning, animal noises woke Iris. She rolled over, locking eyes with a squirrel on the windowsill, realizing yesterday wasn't a dream.
She asked a maid for her clothes but was led to a wardrobe full of outfits for young ladies.
At this moment, Iris once again realized her mom had indeed married a billionaire.
If she behaved, she'd have, or at least temporarily have, a huge soft bed, a garden with squirrels, and a whole wardrobe of clothes she couldn't possibly wear out.
Iris picked the simplest summer dress from the wardrobe and put it on.
She looked in the mirror, still seeing her messy curls and big black glasses...
Perfect. No one would believe this dress came from a billionaire's wardrobe.
Time for school, Cinderella.
Charles was already at the breakfast table when Iris came down, rolling bacon into bread.
"Nice dress." Charles glanced at her. "Thought you only liked plaid shirts."
"Nothing wrong with plaid shirts, but the owner of this mansion doesn't like them." Iris shrugged, grabbing milk and bread. "So I lost the right to wear them.
Seriously, how do you manage to bear with him?" She looked around, making sure the mansion's owner wouldn't suddenly appear behind her, and leaned closer to her stepbrother.
Clearly, she didn't hold a grudge from last night, even feeling a bit closer to Charles due to their shared "enemy" in Randall.
Charles watched Iris. Her innocence made his previous night of anger, jealousy, and confusion seem ridiculous.
He had barely slept, while she looked perfectly rested.
"I got used to it." Charles looked away, ending the topic.
"Usually, enduring leads to two outcomes—explosion or death," Iris joked, half-serious. "There's no 'getting used to it' option."
Charles felt unease at her perceptiveness. This girl was too sharp.
He didn't want to continue this topic, so he changed it casually. "Really? Interesting. I've got some good news. Want to hear it?"
"Unless it's about my thesis, I can't imagine what else could be good."
Iris didn't expect that after one night, they could sit together for breakfast, chatting like real siblings.
"Obviously, it's not the thesis." Charles put down his cutlery.
"Tonight, a charity auction will be held at Hamilton Estate. They... are on their honeymoon, so we need to represent the Ortegas."
The silverware reflected Iris' twisted expression.
"No! No way! There's no way I'm going!"
- Writer
