Married to My Father-in-law

I Want Power

Emilia’s POV

I sat on the bed, my eyes glued to the screen, the scene replaying.

“Hahahaha.” A cruel laugh tore from my throat.

It all had to be a joke, but the truth was staring me in the face. The man I invested my time, efforts, and emotions in was f*****g my sister behind my back.

Three years of courtship and two years of marriage, all wasted.

How could I not have noticed? They always came together. He bought her things he would never buy for me. She knew of his habits and his whereabouts.

But then, who could I blame if not myself? I saw it coming. The signs were all over. They had not bothered hiding it. I was just too trusting and blind to think my sister would never hurt me in such a cruel way.

My legs trailed to the balcony. The starry night was a witness to my pain, the wind howling around me like a comfort blanket. The mansion was cold and quiet, just like me. Maybe his death was for the better.

However, I needed answers. I had questions only Amalia could provide clarity for, and without a second thought, I dashed out of my room, still in the flourished white gown I had worn to the National Bureau, the fabric trailing on the floor.

But before I could reach the front door, I felt cold steel trace around my throat.

My breath hitched. I stopped. My body stiffened, and my eyes dared not blink.

“You are not allowed to leave without express orders from the Don,” a cold voice echoed from behind.

“Please... I promise to be back. I won’t run away,” I begged desperately, but the voice remained cold, the dagger still aimed at my throat.

The room was dim, with so little light, and silence engulfed us.

“Fine.” I chuckled bitterly. “So this is my cage.” Realization dawned on me like heavenly punishment.

I should have known. He would never allow me to leave. But I couldn’t pass the night without confronting Amalia. I took a step backward, and the knife was drawn away. But when I lashed forward, my hand was caught and my body swiftly overturned.

“Don’t make me,” the cold voice added fiercely.

They say obedience, love, and trust are the virtues of a good person. I trusted them and loved them, even when our parents would only ever take Amalia’s side and show up for her. I gave them the benefit of the doubt.

They had lost a son, and Amalia was no son, but she did have the same shiny blond hair as our brother, unlike me, cursed with deep black hair.

For ten years, I had listened to one excuse after another. Not even when I graduated or had my first promotion did they show up. My birthdays were never remembered. And hers were lavish parties attended by everyone, even my supposed husband.

I could feel the rage building up, my fists clenching as memories flowed of how they had played me and taken me for granted. I was naïve. I believed every word. And now... my lips curled.

I needed the truth.

I walked back to my room, but not without a plan. The back of the mansion harbored a dog entry, a place I had once used to surprise him for his birthday, only to painfully find my sister with him, eating cake. And what excuse did they give? None. I had made excuses for them, even when they didn’t need it.

Hahahaha… pathetic.

I had no time to waste, nor to change. I picked up my purse from the nightstand and some extra cash. I made my way through the back, and with little effort, I was out of the mansion.

The breeze blew my hair as I reached the open clearing, the moon guiding my path like a mother watching over her child. I hailed the first cab I saw and sat in silence, watching the city lights blur behind the glass.

The cab soon pulled over. I stepped down, paid, and made my way to the duplex I built.

The house needed no guards, not when it had a code. I simply typed it in, and the gate opened as cheers and laughter spilled out. The house shimmered with decorations and lights.

Were they celebrating my fallout? The death of my husband? Perhaps my entrapment with Don Adrian?

Whatever it was, my heart ached. How could they smile and laugh so loudly while I swallowed in agony and anguish?

I stepped closer. The cheers grew louder. Standing before the door, my hands trembled as I reached for the knob. I braced myself for what was to come, closing my eyes and drawing in a long breath.

Then, a soft chuckle echoed.

My body stiffened. Then another laugh, followed by giggles.

A rush of cold swept through me. My breath hitched, my eyes widened, and my ears stood sharp like antennas.

“That voice... no, it couldn’t be.” I staggered behind.

But then it came again.

“Emilia is such a fool,” the voice muttered arrogantly. “Marrying her was the only way I could get my hands on the inheritance. And now I can have the woman I love.”

My guts twisted.

“And the house—she stupidly signed it over to Father. Now she has nowhere to go,” Amalia added.

I felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over my head.

It was all a game. Five years of my life, a well-thought-out scheme with perfect players.

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips.

“Dante, now we can get married and have our baby.”

Cheers followed with more laughter.

I didn’t hang around. I didn’t confront them. Dante had faked his death just so he could get everything. Now it made sense; his father couldn’t trust him with money, not when he had almost bankrupted the company. It was my skills, my efforts, and my time.

And even the house, the only asset in my name, was gone.

This may be good. This family may be better off without me.

As I stepped onto the street, the heavens opened and poured so hard that the raindrops felt like beatings. I couldn’t cry. No, I was done crying. There was nothing left to shed.

Curious eyes stared at me as I strolled away, drenched, ruined, and broken. Every step I took on the hard tar was a reminder of the pain they caused me.

I walked for minutes, maybe hours; I had stopped counting. But then he came.

The car pulled over. He stepped out, carrying me inside without a word.

The ride was quiet. I just sat and watched as he helped me dry my hair, his hands surprisingly tender. Yet his gaze remained cold, too cold I could feel shivers run down my spine.

We pulled up to the mansion, and he scooped me into his arms, carrying me up to my room like I weighed nothing. I didn’t resist.

I didn’t have the strength, not when I expected a full lash-out. But staring at the room, the prison I let myself fall back to, was a joke. I felt like a joke.

Still Adrian was quiet, his gaze never leaving me, not even when two servants came in and helped me change into warm, comfortable clothes. I watched him rub my hands tenderly, as if I would break at the slightest force.

He stayed, silent, watchful.

I closed my eyes, unable to face it. But then, he did something unexpected... He kissed my forehead, muttering two words:

“Goodnight, Lia.”

Slowly, I held his hand back. He turned, staring at me with a thousand questions, yet he uttered none. This was my only chance; I dared not miss it.

“I want power,” I whispered, staring into those cold grey eyes.

He leaned forward, folding my hands within his.

“Would you help me?”