Came Back For Revenge, Stuck With My Ex's Brother

Darling Daughter

Lena's Pov

“Lena!”

“Lena Ha…”

A lady with a black veil covering her face sat in the back of a limousine, legs crossed and eyes closed as she leaned into her seat, trying everything in her head to block the noises coming from the paparazzi… Me? The lady was really me.

Three years ago, I used to crave this attention. Now I was tired of it—my hand itching for something else, something that gnawed deep into my guts. I was hungry, not for food. My stomach growled for one thing, revenge. I was tired of lying, tired of being someone else, tired of living her life!

“Do you know what my old man wants from me, Caleb?” My cherry red lips parted lightly beneath the veil of my hat. People like to describe me as sophistication beneath a bodice gown, black gloves and mask… the cold ice princess of France and heart of Paris, as they like to call me—her father's perfect heiress who had built his empire to the brim.

“I have no idea, Ms. Hart,” Caleb, my chauffeur, said in that thick French accent I was also forced to learn, as he drove into the large gate of a mansion, finally getting away from the paparazzi who didn’t seem ready to leave the front gate.

Immediately, the car came to a halt.

My eyes fluttered open slowly.

The car door was pulled open from both sides, a long red carpet spread on the floor before me as maids formed a line to the entrance of my father’s billion dollar mansion.

“Welcome back home, Ms. Hart.”

Behind the mask, my face was devoid of any emotion as I stepped onto the carpet… my steps trained and poised like Lena Hart, what a woman she is… the corner of my lips raised in a half smile, and a few minutes later I found myself in his favorite patio, patiently waiting on the other side of a coffee table. Only in his presence can I let go of this act of mine.

I pulled the suffocating hat off my face, placed it down on the table, pushed my hand into my hair and let the bond go, letting my brunetter hair fall freely across my face.

“Darling daughter.”

“Father dearest.” I mimicked the old man's playful tone as I watched him take his seat across from me, his hooded eyes coming to stay on mine beneath those round glasses, those eyes full of pretense, holding nothing but false pity.

“Sometimes I do blame myself for turning you into this cold-looking woman,” he said.

“Why did you call me, Mr. Hart?” I went back to being formal, dropping the cup of coffee back on the table, bu… A feminine giggle of a child had my heart skip a beat. I scrambled up to my feet, the coffee cup tumbling down the table, not caring about the heat seeping through my feet as I tried to trace the voice—and there she was, her back to me, playing with a puppy.

“Elise,” I couldn't contain my joy as I fell to my knees, arms spread, seeing the same joy in the kid’s eyes as she ran to me, her blonde hair packed in pigtails swaying furiously in the air before she threw herself into my arms.

“Mama,” she called with a broken sob, and I hugged her tightly, too selfish to break the hug, as I ran my hand across her silky hair.

The scent of her felt like a painkiller, relieving me of whatever was eating me up for the past eight months since I last saw her. He had deprived me of seeing my daughter for that long just to punish me, and today he was letting me hold her.

“Did you leave me because you don't love me again?” My heart sank hearing her broken voice as I pulled away to find her eyes, crystal with tears.

“Did your grandpa tell you that?” I asked, pushing the strands of hair that had fallen on her face behind her ear as she shook her head. I knew Mr. Hart would never do that. I believe he held a lot of affection towards Elise like she was his biological grandchild. He got her everything she wanted, and he would never want to break her heart by making her feel unloved.

“I love you…” I peppered ticklish kisses on her cheeks, neck, hands, and feet until she became a giggling mess. “I love you, mon amour.”

“Mama sto… hahaha.” I caught her in my arms in a princess style that she used to love, stopping my tickling fit on her. “Now, do you believe I love you more than anything in this world?” I asked, chuckling as she nodded back quickly.

“Now, you make me feel like the villain.”

I heard Mr. Hart’s aged voice behind me, his walking stick tapping softly on the floor. I got up, turning to him, watching my daughter run to him as he picked her into his arms “Elise Hart.” He called softly.

“I would like a proper conversation with you without Elise here.”

“Is that how you talk to your father, Lena?” He frowned, before he signaled to a maid who came to get Elise. “Let's go back to get some fresh air at the patio, your old man is tired of this sick air conditioning.” He said, taking the lead back to the patio. The coffee cup I had spilled was no longer there but was replaced with a new cup on the table.

“You made a sick move eight months ago, and that's why I took her from you,” he said with a straight face, and I tried to control my anger, remembering why he had taken her. “You had gone rashly to intervene in your past life without my permission.”

“I don't need your permission to get revenge, Simon.” I called him by his name, done with the play, done with the fake titles of ‘Father’ and ‘Dad’ in public.

“How reckless of you, Alaina.” He used that name on purpose to remind me of how weak I used to be, a loser I was and would be without the name ‘Lena Hart.’ Just that name, and blood from old wounds gushed out, and no amount of gauze, bandages, or ointment would be able to make it heal. “Without me, you would be dead. Without the name of my dead daughter, your bones would be scattered in the damn sea, long dead and forgotten!”

I watched how his hand trembled, trying to control his anger, and every anger in me vanished into thin air.

“Without me, Alaina, Elise wouldn't be born…”

“I am sorry,” I whispered, remembering seven years ago when I had learned I was with child after waking up from a four-month coma, a beautiful reminder of my past life, a bitter but sweet mistake of my past, and how stupid I had been… to let myself get used by those wretched people and made a w***e who had slept with both brothers within two days, not knowing who Elise’s father is… I don’t care whoever it turns out to be between them, Elise was mine.

Simon Hart had fought for mine and Elise’s survival, and I owe him, but I hated that he was not giving me what I want. He thinks I should be satisfied with this wealth, which was supposed to be for his dead daughter. I had been playing as Lena’s replacement for six years, waiting for Simon’s perfect time to let me strike.

“Always sorry…” he mumbled. “But I have good news for you if you promise to be good…”

I assumed it to be him signing another company under ‘Lena Hart’ name, and I shrugged.

“I won't keep you away from your daughter, and I won't hold you back from getting your revenge any longer…” he paused, and I waited patiently, “…only if you promise to keep the act on and get engaged to Julien Beaumont.”