Charmed by the Villain

Chapter Two: I WILL FACE HIM

She got outside and realized it was their neighbor, Mrs. Clinton.

"Hi. Mrs. Clinton," Margaret greeted, trying to wear a smile; maybe it might at least calm her down. But Mrs. Clinton ignored her gestures and instead gave her a disgusted look.

Margaret shifted her gaze away from her and faced her sister.

"What's the problem, Elena?"

"I don't understand. She came here ranting and calling our father's names, saying he set up her husband for an accident." Elena answered despaired.

"What?!" Margaret uttered, dismayed.

"Did you just say I am ranting?, Well, you are not only children of a murderer, but you are also badly trained!" Mrs. Clinton blurted.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Clinton, do not speak about our father like that!". Margaret warned, taking quick steps towards where she stood.

"You surely know this isn't a lie! He is a murderer! He murdered one of ELIZA'S finest men, and this same man who is your father attempted to murder my husband too because he owes him money. He didn't die but is now at the hospital with a broken leg. He can't walk, and this is all your father's fault. He planned that accident!"

Margaret could not believe her ears: "What proof do you have that my father is responsible for the accident? And why would he even want to do that?!"

"Because he is owing my husband so much money. My husband asked him for his money two months ago, and they got involved in an argument. He threatened to sue him, and that's why he planned an accident for him to die!"

Margaret stared at her unbelievably. "Can you even listen to yourself, Mrs. Clinton? Did my father drive your husband's car when he had the accident?"

"He didn't, but he was smart enough to have tampered with the brakes of his car!" ️

Margaret shook her head in disbelief, and she wondered where this woman was getting her assumptions from.

"My father already told me he paid half of the money to your husband, and he promised to pay the other half in two weeks. He demanded for the other half that same day, which is what caused their argument. You need to stop jumping to conclusions with that and tagging my father as a killer!"

"He is a bloody killer. He killed Stefan Smith, that wealthy man?! How much more, my husband! Your father's face actually looks like a killer. I was such a fool not to have noticed. Walking around with those ugly unshaved beards like a thug!" She uttered, rolling her eyes with disdain.

"Mrs. Clinton!" Elena yelled, cautioning her with a Stern look.

Mrs. Clinton moved closer to the two sisters, giving them a dead stare. "Now, listen, you low-life ladies, I want my husband's money paid in three days; otherwise, you ladies would follow your miserable and evil father to jail, and in that jail your father is, I will personally make sure he suffers in there. Nonsense!" She uttered and dashed out of their presence, closing their gate with a loud bang.

Tears rolled down Elena's cheek, and Margaret just had to pull her closer and embrace her. Margaret also got emotional. She tried so hard to control her tears but she couldn't. Both of them ended up sniffing.

"Just look at how he talked about our father, Maggie!" Elena, a twenty-two-year-old lady, uttered bitterly and devastated.

"Pay no attention to her. To any of them," Margaret replied, still embracing her.

"Dad is truly innocent, right?" Elena asked.

Margaret freed herself from their warm embrace and looked into her sister's eyes, shocked.

"Elena, Are you reading meaning to Mrs. Clinton's words? She is just ignorant and speaking out of emotions she should have controlled.”

"I am sorry," Elena said remorsefully. "But...how are we going to get her money? You heard her; she said she was going to arrest us," Elena said worriedly.

"I won't let her. I will run around for some cash. Come on in now. Let's order some pizza and eat. Been long we ate that," Margaret said, trying to lighten up the mood. They walked back into the house.

Margaret was awake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. She sat by her dressing table, ruminating deeply. She remembered Mrs. Clinton's words, the headlines accusing her father of being a murderer, and how the people his father worked with at ELIZA rubbed his name in the mud. She needed to clear her father's name.

"Dad swore on our mother's grave. He never does that in vain," Margaret muttered to herself, wiping away her tears.

She snuck into her father's room, looking at the awards he had gotten for integrity and loyalty. His words echoed in her memory.

"Maggie, if I killed that man, I would not lie to you. I would have lied to anybody else, but you. You're my first child, a reflection of me. I'm already in prison, so why would I lie? I have nothing to lose; I didn't kill that man. I don't even know how to use a gun."

Margaret abruptly rose up with determination. "If Eliza is involved in the conspiracy, they will pay! Every person involved will pay! Including that ill mannered Jerk that calls himself the MD!" She remembered how Percival ordered security to rough-handle her and throw her out; she formed her hands into fists. She concluded she would secure ajob at Eliza to vindicate her father and dig out the dark secrets behind his conviction, even if it meant being mistreated again. She was ready to endure anything to erase the stain attached to her father and their family. She decided she would execute her plan in three days, on Monday.

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"Make yourself useful, Percival! else your mother will get lashes from me this night for giving me a dummy as a son! Do it! Do itttt! Do iiiiit!!!" The voices of people in the room echoed in Percival's ears. All eyes were on him, and it seemed like any sign of disapproval from him would bring him the biggest doom. He screamed and woke up. He had been dreaming. The same dream always. He was sweating profusely despite sleeping in an air-conditioned room.

"Zzzzzzr!" The alarm sounded beside him. He ignored it and further rolled on his king-sized bed, "Zzzzzzr!!" It sounded again.

"Oh, shut up!" Percival yelled, swinging it away from his ears. It was beginning to sound like a menace. He finally sat up on his bed, picking up his phone beside him, then he heard repeated knocks on the door. It turned out the person had been knocking even while he was still in the dreamland.

"Come in, Alfred! Do not frustrate me with noise on a Monday morning!"

Alfred, his personal housekeeper, entered with towels folded in layers. "Morning Sir. I realized you are not awake yet, and I am here to remind you about your meeting at 7am this morning," he uttered with absolute courtesy.

"Thanks Alfred. I am awake now, as you can see," Percival said, still engrossed with his phone.

"Should I prepare your bath water now?" Alfred asked, and Percival just nodded.

"Very warm?"

"Warm. 60 degrees Celsius," he answered.

Alfred nodded immediately, reaching into his bathroom. He must prepare that water at exactly 60 degrees, confirming it with the thermometer; otherwise, he risks Percival's morning wrath.

Percival was still surfing his phone when a notification popped up with the headline "A high school named after the late influential businessman, Stefan Smith," and that made him remember Arthur Roberts and then his silly daughter that came to cause a scene at his workplace a few days ago.

"The nerves of that ugly-looking girl!" Percival scoffed under his breath. If she showed up again to his territory, he would deal with her.

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Meanwhile, Margaret was ready for her first day at work. The first step she would take to vindicate her father was if she needed to act like a fool, she would do it.

"You look good to go. Maggie!" Elena commended her sister. "Oh. Goodness, if Tyler sees you now, he would regret ever breaking up with you!"

"I have to make a good impression..." Margaret uttered, standing in front of the mirror and blending her lipstick. "Oh, and by the way," he glanced back at Elena, "he didn't break up with me; I did."

"Yeah, right!" Elena muttered, fully recollecting what had happened.

"I need to get going." Margaret sprayed more of the perfume right beside her.

"Wish you luck!" Elena said, smiling brightly, watching her sister leave the house.