Chapter 2

EIGHT YEARS LATER

MADELYN’S POV

Wiggling my waist, I danced to the melodic voice of Chris Brown’s ‘Under the Influence’ booming through the speakers. Ria, Anastasia, and I were in the club, partying our asses out.

“Whoo-hoo!” I cheered, picking up a glass of tequila from the waiter and gulping the whole content down my throat.

Damn, I love my life!

Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I ignored it at first, but when it became incessant and disturbing, I delved my fingers into my pocket, aiming to switch off the phone. Thus, when I saw the caller ID, my pupils dilated in shock.

It was my father’s secretary, Mr. Ambrose. And for one thing, he didn’t call me unless the situation required urgency. Bile was starting to rise in my throat.

Swaying away from the crowd, I scrambled out of the club and went to a quiet, dark corner. With my heart in my hands, I slid it to the receiver’s end.

“How is everything going, Mr. Ambrose?”

My voice was met with silence. A wary feeling engulfed me, and I brought the phone to see if we were still connected. Alas, we were.

Placing the phone back on my ears, I asked again, “Are you going to say something? I’m pretty busy.”

If I didn’t know that Mr. Ambrose was always this way, I would have hung up earlier because I was not in the mood for mind games.

His voice cracked. “Miss Madelyn...” He sounded like he was sobbing, and my heart began to race fast. “I want you to be strong for this, please.”

My pulse quickened.

“Be strong for what, Mr. Ambrose?” I asked impatiently.

“With a somber heart, I would like to inform you that your father has passed away,” he bemoaned.

The color drained from my cheeks.

A piercing sound rang through my head, and I froze.

What did he just say?

My lips trembled, and tears filled my eyes as I brought myself to ask again. “W-ho p-passed away, Mr. Ambrose?”

I heard him sigh. “Your father,” he affirmed. And with a teary voice, he added. “Please be strong, Miss Madelyn. I know this must be hard for you, and I don’t want you to break down in tea-”

“No! No, no, no!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. All the tipsiness had worn off, and I was fully sober.

Impulsively, I tossed my phone to the floor and broke down in tears. “My father cannot die. Daddy, you can’t die. You promised to celebrate Thanksgiving with me. You promised to walk me down the aisle. How could you leave without a word?”

The fact that I spoke to him a few hours ago and he sounded fine and healthy made me disregard the news.

I shoved my fingers into my disheveled hair, hoping to pull off all my hair. My father cannot die now! “You can’t leave me in this wicked world, Dad. You are the only one I have!”

At this moment, it felt like I have lost the will to live. Various thoughts made my mind run amok. “No,” I muttered under my breath. “I refuse to believe you are dead, Father.”

Pressing my hands together, I prayed as tears cascaded down my cheeks. “Dear God, please let this news be false. Let me believe this was a wrong number, please, God.”

I clutched my chest in agony.

“Madelyn, are you okay?” Ria asked. But when Anastasia noticed my tear-stained cheeks, she called to Ria’s attention.

“I think she is crying.”

“What’s wrong?” Ria asked as she began to wipe off the tears with the back of her hand. Concern and curiosity were evident in her voice.

“Let’s take her back to the dorm, Ria,” Anastasia suggested. “Maybe then we will find out what is going on?”

“Wait, is that her phone?” Ria rushed to get my phone from the floor while I stood there, staring blankly into the dark. A sharp pain emanating from the back of my head.

All I could wish for at this very moment was for my father to be alive. I just hoped this rumor was false. That was the only way I’d survive.

Ria and Anastasia guided me to the busy highway. They boarded a taxi, and several minutes later, we were back at our dorm.

After they lowered me gently to the couch, Anastasia went to get a cold bottle of water from the fridge while Ria stayed with me, stroking my hair.

Tears shamelessly rolled down my cheeks. Unable to speak, I just kept staring at her with teary eyes.

Anastasia came back with the water, and I refused it.

“Please, I don’t need water. Just tell me my father isn’t dead. Please, I’m begging you, girls.”

Their eyes widened at me. Instantly, Ria’s face contorted into a puzzled expression, and the bottle of water slipped out of Anastasia’s hand to the floor.

“Please.” My lips trembled. “Mr. Ambrose called me earlier. You know him, right?”

“Yes, Your father’s secretary!” came their chorused response.

“He said my father is dead,” I chuckled dryly. “Can you believe that? Please, Ria. Anastasia. I just need you guys to tell me that the news isn’t true.” My hand clutched my chest. “My heart is breaking right now, and I just need you guys to reassure me that I heard wrong.”

Ria enveloped me in a warm hug, and Anastasia patted my back. “I am so sorry this happened to you, Maddie,” Anastasia chipped.

“May his soul rest in peace,” Ria followed.

“No!” I shrieked. “You guys aren’t saying what I want to hear! I want my father to be alright! I want him to smile at me, saying this is just fake news! I want to wake up from this terrible nightmare!” I shook my head. “Maybe it is the alcohol...I guess the tequila is taking a toll on me!”

“No, Maddie,” Ria cooed, rubbing my back. “You have to be strong. I know this must hurt, and we are here to support you through this.”

Pressing my lips into a grim line, I swallowed the bile at the base of my tongue. “Be strong? How can you tell me to be strong when I just lost the most important person in my life?!” I roared. “Do you know how painful this is? It is as if someone is shredding my heart into pieces,” I wailed.

“I know.” Ria broke into a series of tiny sobs. “I totally understand how you feel, Madelyn. No one would like to lose their loved one.”

Ria and Anastasia guided me to the bed. Curling into a fetal position, I brought my thumb to my lips, chewing on the nail vigorously as I cried myself to sleep.

THE NEXT DAY

I had woken up several hours ago, 6:39 AM, to be precise. Although, it took long enough before I could fall asleep.

Ria and Anastasia helped me pack a few of my things, guided me to the bathroom, and dressed me. Then, they escorted me to the airport.

The plane had taken off a few minutes ago. With a heavy heart, I stared at the pictures of my father and me on my phone. “You can’t be dead, Dad,” I stated in a whisper.

Before I knew it, the plane had landed in Los Angeles. Eventually, I arrived at our mansion.

Behold, my stepmother, Rachel, was wailing profusely in the lounge, so much that I had to forget my sorrow for a split second.

Stunned at her stupid but perfect act, I stared at her in shock. How dare she cry as if she loved him so much? From the beginning, I always knew she was after my father’s money.

That darn wench!

Cussing under my breath, I clenched my fist. The urge to walk over there and pull out all the hair on her head into shreds surged to the forefront of my brain. But I shoved it back down.

“Oh, Miss Madelyn is here!” the Catholic priest from our parish declared.

Everyone’s eyes shot up in my direction.

He trudged up to me with a forlorn expression. “You are just in time for your father’s funeral, dear,” he informed me, and I felt my world explode into tiny bits.