Becoming Her

Chapter 2: LEGACY BRIDE

CHAPTER TWO: THE LEGACY BRIDE

Mr. Michaelson walked into the house, completely exhausted, Mrs. Margaret went over to him “welcome honey” she kissed him as she took of his suit coat, “welcome daddy” Michael said seeing him as he came out of his room to get a soda from the refrigerator in the kitchen “Thanks Michael, how is your college application coming along?” He asked as he tried to get his left arm out his jacket and handed it over to his wife “Good dad, I'll be mailing them soon” Michael said as he opened the can with a fizz sound and gulped down a mouthful, then headed back to his room. “Madison?” He looked at his wife “she went on a date and I don't think she'll be coming back today” “hmmmmm” he was displeased “and what about pleading for a re admission into college? Doesn't she care about her future? Prepare my bath and dinner, we'll have to discuss after that” he walked away. Arrya heard all the fuss from the kitchen as she did the dishes, he didn't ask about her, he never did. She shook her head sadly. Mrs. Margaret came into the kitchen, slammed her hands on the marble top on the kitchen table “You heard him, prepare his dinner” then she walked out

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“I won't have my daughter get married to some old fool because of the mistake your workers made!” Mrs. Margaret shouted at the top of her voice, Mr. Michaelson looked up at her “I wasn't asking” then he went back to his work, typing away on his computer. Mr. Michaelson’s study was huge, files and books were neatly arranged on the shelves at the far end of the room, a big table made of marblewood with a fine print sat at the middle of the room, a rotating office chair close behind it. The walls were painted beige and light grey, in perfect contrast to the brown shelves and table. “I won't have it Mike! She's going back to college not to play wife for a man twice your own age”

“what would you have me do Margaret? In less than a week, we'll be on the streets, the bank will take every single penny I've got, what then?” Mrs. Margaret's face turned pale, years and years of suffering, of trying to make a name for herself, of work, of trying to climb up the social ladder was going to go down the drain in a blink of an eye. She had tasted suffering and she’d rather die than suffer again. What would her friends say? Not far long a friend's husband went bankrupt and they tossed her away like a pile of trash and she swears amongst others that that could never happen to her. Was this karma? After all her efforts? After putting up with this disgusting man, No she won't give up her lifestyle for anything or anyone.

“ Give up arrya then” her eyes lit up, Mr. Michaelson slowly looked up contemplating “And what would he think if we gave him a sickly looking girl cause I'm damn sure you've been digging your ugly claws into her existence. Is this some sort of joke to you?” He asked, obviously irritated, “ she's not sickly, she's healthy and fine and your daughter, so she'll have to do it because if you think I'm going to let you destroy my only daughter's life then you have another thing coming! Think about it, it's either her or I take my children and leave!” She walked out, slamming the door behind her. If he wasn't going to agree to her terms she was going to start looking for a new fat pig to dig her claws in and she already had a few in mind.

Mr. Michaelson repeatedly struck his pen against the marblewood contemplating on what to do. He was going to visit the firm of the old man the next day to offer his daughter and he knew damn right after all these years that Margaret would leave him in the blink of an eye if his net worth reduced by a dollar and she found someone else. He couldn't lose Michael, his golden boy. Michael was a good athlete, smart and never gave him a headache, his sister was the exact opposite.

He pushed his chair back, stood up and went over to one of his shelves. He was looking for something but couldn't seem to find it, then he saw it. At the very far end of the shelf a very dusty picture album, he took it back to his desk and sat down, held the book up and blew instantly raising dust. He flipped some pages and then settled for a page, his fingers slightly caressing the transparent film used to protect the pictures from humidity. In that page there were four pictures, two on each side, one that showed him as he picked up little arrya and raised her in the air while her mother laughed behind them, another one was a solo picture of arrya finger painting on one of her school days. He smiled when he saw the solo picture of his late wife Elena, remembering how she was found dead in the pool of her own blood with a knife in hand.

The police could have called it a suicide but for the extra finger prints found on the murder weapon, resistance wounds on the arms of the victim and swollen marks on the neck. They had taken her for an autopsy and found out that she had been strangled to death and then the murderer tried to make it look like suicide, obviously he was’nt good at his job but nevertheless the police couldn't find anything because the prints didn't match with anyone from the state. They had sent the prints to surrounding states for further investigations and had not gotten any lead since then.

Mr. Michaelson had sworn to get his hands on the murderer. He was soo broken during that period he nearly lost his mind, that was when his wife, then secretary came to his rescue and pulled him from almost drowning in his lake of sorrows. With time he had trauma bonded with her and trauma bonds are really hard to snap out of. Since then he had seen her as his strength and feared if she left he'd sink back into pain and lose himself all over again. He remembered how sweet, caring and nurturing she had been to both him and his daughter before finally revealing that she had a child for him, who lived with her mother. He didn't believe it at first till she reminded him of the day the manager of a huge international wine company had come to invite him for their new wine launcher and had brought an exquisite wine for him, he had asked Margaret to send him a glass after they left as he wanted to taste it and he seemed to have liked it soo much that he took more.

He had high alcohol tolerance but that day, the wine seemed to knock him out almost immediately and suddenly Margaret was there completely naked. He had asked later on why she didn't tell him about it earlier and she said she was afraid he would fire her and after the DNA test was taken Michael was indeed his son. After falling in love with the kind, motherly Margaret he had married her but sooner than later her true nature started to surface.

His phone chimed and he came back to reality, he closed the photo album and took it back to the shelf where it sitted. He looked at his phone, then opened the last drawer on his table and took out a white long pill bottle, went over to the office refrigerator and took out a bottle of sparkling water then poured out some pills into his palm, took some water, threw the pills into his mouth and swallowed, on the bottle was a bold word ‘DOXORUBICIN’.