A ONE NIGHT STAND

Chapter 7- A web of deception. Janet Part 1

After a draining day at work, battling with two demanding and unbearable workmates who seemed determined to make my life miserable, my dad and I finally arrived home. I had fallen asleep in the car and didn't even realize we had stopped, my dad had to wake me up from my short slumber.

Groggily, I looked around to get my bearings, and he said, "Emma, we're home."

I turned my head slightly in his direction, made a faint humming sound, and managed a weak "Thanks, Dad."

We got out of the car together, but I was too exhausted to initiate conversation or even walk beside him. My dad followed closely behind, his expression a mix of understanding and slight hurt. I could tell he was trying not to take my silence personally.

As soon as i reached my room, I collapsed onto my bed, letting the softness envelop me. Sleep was my escape from the torture and drama I was in, but it was short-lived. My phone's piercing ringtone jolted me awake, and I reached for it irritably, intending to decline the call. But then I saw Jessica's name on the screen, and my annoyance turned to excitement.

'She finally called,' I thought, my energy renewed.

I answered the call, and Jessica spoke first. "Hello, Emma, I'm so sorry I haven't reached you in a while. How have you been?"

There was a pause as I gathered my thoughts, and then I began to pour out my frustrations to her. I let out a painful giggle... "Nothing's fine, Jessica. I lost Mom," I said, my voice cracking with emotions.

"What!!" she screamed over the phone. Her voice urgent, "When?"

"A few weeks back," I replied, and told her how my life had been miserable since I came to stay with my father, who had abandoned my mom and me. "f**k!!"

Jessica fumed over the phone, "No way, this is so terrible! You shouldn't let them treat you like this, Emma. How dare that little brat and her bitchy mom do this to you? Who the f**k are they?"

"My stepmom and stepsister," I replied sarcastically.

"Oh, spare me, Emma! You can't accept them as your stepmom and stepsister. So pathetic! You know what? I'll be coming back home soon, got transferred, and it's the most exciting s**t in my life right now. We'll see each other often, and I'll definitely teach that bitchy stepmom and her ducking slut of a daughter a big lesson," Jessica said, and I laughed lightly.

"I can endure it, Jessy. It's temporary, and you don't have to worry. No one can break me down," I replied.

"Okay, Emma, I love you, and be strong for yourself and your mom, okay? I'll check up on you later. Duty calls, have to go. Bye," she said, and I replied before the call ended.

I sighed heavily before standing up to get some fresh air outside the house. I wrapped myself in my blanket, bracing against the chilly night air. As I stood outside, the night breeze enveloped me, but my tranquility was disrupted by a surprising sight. Brittany was also outside, and to my dismay, she was smoking.

I thought to myself, 'Is this allowed? Does Dad have a single idea about this?'

I hesitated, weighing whether to confront her or not. Eventually, I approached her, calling out, "Brittany."

She swiftly turned her head, discarded her weed, and pretended nothing had happened.

I feigned ignorance, asking, "Why aren't you asleep at this hour? Just needed some fresh air, right?"

Brittany's response was laced with annoyance and irritation. She had come out to smoke due to her own issues and hadn't expected to run into me. With a sneer, she retorted, "I could ask you the same question. What are you doing out here so late? Planning to rob us blind, you poor little thing?"

She took a step closer, her tone harsh. "You should be grateful to have the privilege of living here. Now, get inside and don't ever ask me stupid questions from that irritating mouth of yours again. Get out of my sight, punk. I need to be left alone."

I felt a surge of anger and hurt but remained calm, knowing that engaging with her would only lead to more conflict.

"I'm curious, Brittany, what fuels your hatred towards me?" I asked, my voice steady. "We were strangers until I entered this house. What debt do you think I owe you?"

Brittany's sneer was venomous. " That's the problem Emma, You should have never set foot in this house. You should have died alongside your mother."

My anger ignited, and I slapped her face, the sound echoing through the night. Brittany's eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her cheek.

"How dare you, you illegitimate child!" she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

I stood tall, my gaze piercing. "Silence, Brittany! You may insult me, call me names, or push me to the wall, but mention my mother again, and you'll regret it."

My warning was laced with a fierce intensity. "Remember, Brittany, I don't fear your wrath or your schemes."

As I turned to leave, Brittany's face contorted in anger, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Next time, smoke in secret, lest someone discovers your dirty habit," I said, my parting shot.

Brittany's response was a venomous hiss. "f**k you, Emma! You'll pay for this affront! You'll suffer for slapping me." She ruffled her hair in frustration and slammed her hands against the wall.

The next day, we gathered in the dining room for breakfast, but Brittany was nowhere to be found.

"Where's Brittany?" Dad asked, and Amelia responded, "I was about to ask the same question. Emma, go call your sister."

I turned to Amelia and said, "Why should I do that? Brittany's legs aren't broken, and she's healthy and fine. Why should I get up from the table to go call her? She's probably busy in her room, doing everything possible to look good. We all know models need to look fit." I sneered.

Dad intervened, "Emma, please go call your sister." He begged, and I sighed heavily before standing up. But Brittany interrupted, "There's no need for that, don't stress, Emma."

We all turned to look at her, and Amelia was the first to speak as she pushed her chair and walked over to her. "What happened to your face, Brittany? Which cream or what did you apply to make it so swollen?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

Brittany looked at her mom, held her hands, and shed crocodile tears. "Mom, it wasn't any product that did this to my face. You know I'm a model, and my face is my top priority. But now it's ruined because of Emma." Brittany's fake tears fell, and Dad and Amelia turned to look at me, their anger palpable.

Amelia was so enraged that she came forward and slapped me twice on the face, once on each cheek. I didn't react, standing there unfazed and unmoved, enduring the pain.

"My dad thundered, ''Amelia!!'' but she spun around, her eyes blazing. ''Not today, honey! I've had enough of Emma's insolence! She's refused my attempts at kindness, and now she's attacked my daughter! How dare you, Emma? What gives you the right to slap Brittany, you ungrateful child?''

Amelia's voice was a tempest, and Dad tried to intervene. ''Enough, Amelia!'' He strode over, his face stern. ''Emma, explain yourself! What drove you to this?''

The room was silent, the tension palpable. I stood frozen, my gaze fixed on the floor. Amelia's anger erupted again. ''Speak up, Emma! What do you have to say for yourself?''

Brittany tried to calm her mother down, ''Mom, please...'' but Amelia was beyond reason. ''Don't tell me to calm down. How can I calm down when my daughter's face is bruised and swollen? You've gone too far, Emma! What happened, Brittany? Tell me everything!''

Brittany coughed and replied, her voice laced with feigned emotion, "I went out to get some fresh air yesterday and was surprised to see Emma. I approached her, trying to be friendly, but she shoved me away. I saw her smoking and cautioned her, but instead of repenting, she got angry and slapped me hard. Now, my face is swollen, Mom." Brittany broke down in tears, and Amelia comforted her, "Oh darling, stop crying."

I sneered inwardly, thinking, 'Didn't expect much anyway. Time to watch the drama unfold.'

Dad's disappointed gaze fell on me, "You smoke, Emma? Were you not raised better? How can you smoke in my house? You're frustrated, but that doesn't justify smoking. And when corrected, you slapped your sister. That's vicious!" Dad yelled.

"Leave this house immediately! I thought you were ideal, but you're despicable. You're a fool. I should have slapped you harder!" Amelia spat.

I sighed heavily and sat down tired of the numerous talks and accusations. All eyes were on me.

"Are you done? Have you finished saying whatever you wanted to say?" I asked.

Dad began to speak, but I interrupted, "Dad, it's my turn to talk without interruption. I didn't interrupt any of you, so do the same."

"I went out for fresh air because I couldn't sleep, but since she wants to reveal all, I'll come clean. I didn't smoke, Dad, Brittany did," I said.

Amelia yelled, "Shut up, you liar! You've been caught red-handed and now you're shifting the blame to my daughter. How despicable can you be?"

I replied, "That question should be directed at your daughter, not me. I admit I slapped her because she spoke ill of my mom, and I won't stand by and watch your daughter disparage my deceased mother. It's fine if she calls me illegitimate, but mentioning my mom won't end well. As for the smoke, we would know who smoked and who didn't between me and Brittany."

I turned to face my dad, who looked displeased. "Dad, I ask a favor. Have your personal doctor run a DNA test on the cigarette butt to determine who smoked it, I'm sure you have one." I smirked at him.

Brittany interrupted, "Emma, let go, you've been caught and exposed for who you are. Stop suggesting trash!" She walked over to Dad, holding his hands. "Dad, I wouldn't lie to you. I got a hard slap from her because I tried to correct her, and now my face is swollen. How can I work in the industry with my face like this? Dad, justice must be made for me. You need to punish Emma."

Amelia chimed in, "Yes, honey, Emma must be punished severely. Look at your daughter's face, it's so bad."

Dad's gaze turned stern, and I looked him in the eye, refusing to back down.

"If you want to punish me, that's okay. I'm a nobody in this house anyway. But before that, do as I say, and if I'm guilty, I promise to lick the feet of your daughter and wife."

Dad looked at me, his expression curious and hardened. He picked up his phone and Brittany tried to stop him but he raised his hand to silence her and called his doctor.

After the call ended, he looked at Brittany and said, "Let us get the results from the doc first to confirm who's telling the truth, and who isn't."

"That's a good idea dad." I said, smiling excitedly at them.

Amelia approached Brittany, noticing her daughter's sweating and frightened expression.

"Brittany, what's going on? Something's not right, is it?" she asked softly. Brittany's face contorted in fear, and Amelia's expression turned stern. "Damn you, Brittany! Why didn't you tell me about this before you went ahead with your plan? You're in big trouble, and your father won't take this lightly. Did you dispose of the cigarette butt properly?" Brittany shook her head, and Amelia sighed, "When will you learn to be smart like me, Brittany?"

I observed the exchange between Brittany and her mother, a smug smile spreading across my face.

"While we wait for the doctor, why don't I show you were the cigarette butt is?" I suggested, my eyes fixed on Brittany's terrified expression.

Dad agreed, and Amelia tried to excuse herself, but I insisted, "No way, you're coming with us. This is a family matter, and we all need to be there. You must be eager to find out if I smoked, aren't you, stepmom?" I held her hand, along with Brittany's, and whispered, "You won't get away with this today, dear stepmom and stepsister." I turned my gaze to each of them, as they gave me a piercing look but I couldn't care less.