SHATTERED TRUST

Chapter2

Three days had elapsed since my father passed away, and unsurprisingly, Bia had made no appearance since then. His funeral service was being held today. Although I had told Mrs. Anga she could take the day off, she refused to leave and insisted on attending the ceremony.

“From the moment your father’s health started declining, I made a vow to myself that I would remain by his side until his final breath. If you ask me to go now, Mrs. Bella, I would be breaking that commitment to him.”

Looking at the elderly woman, a melancholy smile formed on my lips. This was what genuine gratitude looked like—staying through thick and thin. My father had placed his trust in her loyalty before she even had a chance to demonstrate it, and she had never let him down. But then there was Bia. She was perhaps the greatest regret my father had ever made.

“Alright then. I’m grateful you were with him when I couldn’t be,” I said, my voice becoming quieter and my gaze dropping to the floor.

“Mrs. Bella, please understand that you’re not carrying this burden of guilt by yourself,” she began, and I felt my brow furrow in confusion. “Earlier, Miss Bia phoned me requesting that I retrieve something from the business office. She made it sound incredibly pressing and time-sensitive, so I agreed and left right away. When I returned as fast as I could, the entire house was filled with thick, dark smoke. I immediately called emergency services, and when we finally managed to break through his locked bedroom door, he had already lost consciousness. The door had been secured from the inside.”

“How is that even possible?” I asked, struggling to comprehend what she was telling me.

“I’m uncertain, Mrs. Bella. What I do know is that by the time we forced the door open, he was no longer conscious. It’s impossible to say whether someone deliberately tried to harm him, given that I wasn’t there to witness what actually happened. Please, don’t shoulder all this guilt by yourself.”

Her words were heavy with genuine remorse, though part of me found it almost impossible to believe that anyone would intentionally harm my father within his own home. The idea seemed almost absurdly dark, and I had to push it far back into my mind so I wouldn’t lose my grip on sanity.

The preparations were nearly finished, and I departed with Mrs. Anga to attend the church service. Throughout the reception afterward, I waited for Bia to show her face, but she never did—not until I had practically given up hope that she would arrive at all.

“Where is the attorney?” she demanded, her head held high and her tone completely detached, as if nothing significant had occurred.

“It’s your father’s funeral service today, and you’re clearly not here to pay your respects, so perhaps you should return another time,” I replied, my energy completely drained from dealing with drama.

I had witnessed enough chaos when my husband decided to betray me with my stepsister on the very day we were supposed to be celebrating our marriage. The previous three days, when I desperately needed his support, he was off somewhere with Bia, presumably in a state of undress. I had resolved that I would try to have a conversation with him afterward and attempt to salvage our relationship, but his repeated actions made it increasingly clear how pointless that effort would be.

“Well, you’re absolutely right, big sister,” she said with a smile that suggested she regarded me as insignificant. “I have zero interest in being here to mourn. After all, during his lifetime, you were his sole focus, and I owe his death nothing. However,” she drew out her words deliberately, as though performing powerful lyrics, “he certainly owes me something.”

“Are you honestly here just to cause trouble?” I demanded, flinging my handbag onto the sofa and stepping toward her with determination.

“Just tell me where that damn lawyer is,” she hissed.

The sound of someone clearing his throat caused both of us to turn around. Mr. Miller, my father’s legal representative, was approaching us from across the room.

“Well, there you are,” she said with a self-satisfied smirk.

I had always been aware that Bia had a wild streak, but her recent conduct had become increasingly erratic and unpredictable. In all honesty, I was almost relieved that Mr. Miller appeared at this moment because I genuinely didn’t want to be taken aback by whatever Bia might do next.

“Mr. Miller,” I acknowledged his arrival, swallowing with difficulty.

He held a manila envelope and gestured for us to move into my father’s study.

“Your father’s explicit instructions were that these documents be read on the day of his funeral. I hope you’ll allow me to honor his final wishes,” he said, shifting his gaze between me and Bia, who was nervously biting her lower lip.

“Go ahead,” I said quietly, lacking any real enthusiasm.

He gave one envelope to me and then handed the significantly larger one to Bia. The expression of anticipation on Bia’s face made dread settle into my stomach. Whatever was good news for her would undoubtedly be catastrophic for me. The fact that we were about to learn the contents of the will only intensified my internal trembling. My hope was that my father wouldn’t repeat the same error by showing Bia such undeserved favor a second time.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Bia shrieked as she rushed over and threw her arms around Adam in celebration, her face beaming with elation.

After witnessing her reaction, I mentally prepared myself for devastating news. I finally tore open my sealed envelope. As I read through the document’s contents, my jaw went slack. By the time I finished reading, my body became completely limp, and I collapsed to the floor with a thud.

Adam swiftly grabbed the will from my grip while Bia hurled the property documentation directly into my face.

“They’re all mine! They’re all mine!” Bia hollered with unbridled excitement.

Adam’s expression became wild with intensity as he confirmed which beneficiary my father had designated to receive the majority of his assets. This couldn’t be happening. Including the business enterprise that I had personally invested countless hours into building while she spent her time going to parties. No. This cannot possibly be real.

“Perhaps he understood from the beginning that you were nothing but a disappointment,” Adam said with a contemptuous grin.

“There must be some kind of error or misinterpretation, but—” I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth as fresh tears welled up in my eyes.

“But here’s the reality—you’re shocked that the cherished, hardworking daughter inherited absolutely nothing from her own father, isn’t that right?” Bia said mockingly while Adam examined the property transfer documents that bore her signature. Listed were the primary residence, a secondary property, and a fifty-million-dollar monetary sum.

I was rendered speechless. I simply remained seated on the floor, completely overwhelmed with numbness and anguish, unable to respond to their cruel mockery.

“And here is your final present, Miss Bella Reed,” Adam said with venom, as if my very name tasted like poison, before throwing a black folder in my direction. “I trust you understand exactly what needs to be done with those divorce documents. Make sure you complete them and deliver them back to my residence first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, my darling Adam,” Bia cooed as she gently ran her fingers along his jawline. “I truly despise her, but regrettably she is related to me by blood. Honestly, I think she might literally perish if you abandon her right now. If you’re interested, I could share you with her temporarily. After all, it’s quite obvious that I’m the one you actually care about,” she said, winking at him suggestively.

“Why would you do this to me, Adam? You know that I love you with all my heart. I have made every conceivable effort to make you happy, and you were content with me until she came into our lives. How could you let her destroy what we had so effortlessly?” I spoke each word while drowning in anguish, but the man standing before me was now completely unrecognizable to me. He had become a stranger—someone I had always secretly feared I might one day meet.

“I anticipate those documents being signed and returned to me by tomorrow. And trust me, you really don’t want to test my patience on this matter.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​