Becoming strangers again (Lily and Ryan)

Chapter 101

STEPHANIE

“Did you sell it?” I asked my father the moment he stepped into the living room.

My parents house isn’t somewhere I frequent so often because this place brings notthig but bad memories. It reminds of how much I am not loved. NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

How ironic, I am not loved by my husband, nor am I loved by my parents. How great is my life.

“Yes, I did.” He replied, moving over to the other end of the sofa. “it was sold last night.” He replied and when I didn’t give a response, he lifted his head to me. “it was sold for five

hundred thousand.”

I arched a brow. “Really?” I was really expecting more. “when am I getting my money?” he didn’t respond and I leaned forward. “when am I getting my money? I paid for half of that Lambo and I want my money back.”

“I was thinking we could keep the money apart and use it as part of that—” My father began, his tone suggesting he was trying to reason with me.

“I want you to stop thinking and return my money to me,” I snapped, cutting him off abruptly. “That money was from my savings, and it’s going back there. So you better give it back to me before I lose my patience with you.”

My father’s jaw clenched angrily at my defiance. “How can you be worried about your savings?” he challenged incredulously

“Why shouldn’t I?” I shot back, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “I worked hard for it, so of course I should be worried about it! Why should I constantly worry about a mess you created?”

Just then, my mother entered the living room, a cup of tea in hand. “Can you both stop it?” she chastised, her tone firm as she glared at both of us. “Just give her back her money, Waper. It isn’t even going to go halfway in clearing a debt that you created.”

For once, I felt a surge of relief that my mother was taking my side in this argument.

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“Once all this is settled,” my mother continued, her voice firm, “you are going to step down and let Stephanie handle the firm.” My father’s glare intensified, but my mother stood her ground, jutting her chin out defiantly. “What? Do you have any objection?”

“I’m not ready to retire,” my father responded stubbornly.

“And you think I care?” my mother retorted, her tone laced with frustration. “Do you want to keep running that company until you run it into the ground? Until you jeopardize everything for us?” She pointed her painted finger at me. “She is willing to sacrifice herself to help clear this mess, and the least you can do is show your gratitude and ensure this doesn’t happen again.”

“It wasn’t willing,” I interjected flatly, unable to contain my frustration. “You both, along with that bastard, literally forced me into this.”

“Enough,” my father gritted out, his patience wearing thin. “When we get to that bridge of me retiring, we will cross it.” With a heavy sigh, he removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “Now that you’re married to Ryan, what’s the next move? Are you making any progress?”

Sometimes, I find myself questioning why I went through with the marriage, knowing deep down that I wouldn’t be getting what I truly wanted. Perhaps it’s because marrying Ryan feels like the safest option for me right now. I can tolerate his hurtful remarks and the fact that he prefers another woman over me, as long as it means I’m safe and protected.

“I don’t think we’ll be making progress anytime soon,” I replied wearily. “I signed a prenuptial agreement before the marriage, which you’re well aware of. He would have to cheat for me to have any access to his properties.”

“Which is why you have to get pregnant, give him an heir, file for divorce, and then demand child support,” my father spat out bitterly, his frustration evident.

I glanced at my mother, silently seeking her support, but she shook her head in disapproval. With a heavy sigh, I chose to remain silent, unwilling to engage further in my father’s unsettling suggestions.

“Or better still, set him up,” my father continued, his voice dripping with bitterness. “Get him drugged, lure him into a compromising situation with another woman, snap some pictures, and file for a divorce.” He licked his lips angrily, his impatience palpable. “We don’t have all the time in the world.”

III

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“And you think it’s easy to drug Ryan?” I interjected flatly, incredulous at the absurdity of his plan. “Even if you manage to drug him, how do you propose to get him into a room with another woman to take pictures? What do you think his security will do while you attempt such a reckless scheme?” I rolled my eyes at the sheer impracticality of his suggestion. “Please, let’s think of something else.”

“Then get pregnant,” he retorted callously, his tone unyielding. “I think you’ve mourned the loss of that thing enough. Seduce him, get him into bed, and make him have sex with you.”

“I won’t be getting much either, even if I have a child,” my father frowned, his frustration evident. “Sure, I’ll receive something, but I doubt it’ll be enough to pay off your debt.”

“What do you mean you won’t be getting enough?” He inquired, and I tried to mask my amusement at his disappointment.

Shrugging nonchalantly, I couldn’t help but suppress a smile at the expression of dismay on his face. “He’s already made it clear that his properties and companies will be transferred to his sons and Lily.”

“What the hell?” my father erupted, leaping to his feet in outrage. “Why on earth did you agree to terms like this?”

I rolled my shoulders indifferently. “It was either that or he wouldn’t agree to the marriage,” I explained calmly, opting for the option that seemed to benefit everyone involved.

“At this point, I fail to see the purpose of this marriage!” my father exclaimed, his frustration boiling over.

How dare he undermine my efforts? Did he have any idea of the humiliation and insults I endure from Ryan? “Do you want me to file for divorce?” I challenged, my patience wearing thin.

He shot me a menacing glare, his frustration evident in his eyes. “Shut the hell up!” he spat out angrily, and I scoffed, turning my gaze away to avoid further confrontation.

“We should have gone with my suggestion,” my mother chimed in, her voice laced with regret. “We should have blackmailed him with the video, demanded the money we need, and put all this behind us.

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“You think Ryan would fork over that kind of money for a woman?” my father scoffed incredulously. “He’s not that foolish”

“Yes, he is,” I argued, frustration seeping into my voice. They didn’t seem to understand the depth of Ryan’s love for Lily. “Do you honestly believe that a man who willingly sacrificed his freedom for a woman wouldn’t be willing to part with a significant sum of money for her?”

“Even if he is willing to give up the money, do you think his father won’t catch wind of it?” my father countered, his skepticism apparent. “Richard Williams will undoubtedly interfere, and nothing will work in our favor. We’re only willing to go this far because he’s on our side by agreeing to this marriage.”

“I didn’t come here today for all this talk. I just want my money, that’s all,” I interjected.

“Does anyone have a better idea?” my mother queried, her tone pleading. “I truly want to put this behind us.”

“What happens when there are no children and no ex–wife?” my father posed the question, causing me to squint in confusion.

“What kind of question is that?” I hissed, feeling a surge of unease at the implications behind his words. “You better erase that thought from your mind.”

“Then his properties would go to his wife and legitimate children,” my mother filled in, her voice steady.

I glared at her incredulously. “You can’t seriously be considering harming another human being.”

“Why not?” my father retorted sharply. “It’s either her or our entire family. Which would you prefer?”

“She didn’t ask you to take such risks,” I yelled, my eyes burning with frustration. “Why should she have to suffer for a mistake you made?”

“Don’t bother yourself with that,” my father mused dismissively. “I’ll handle Lily and her little riff–raffs while you focus on getting pregnant with Ryan.”

“He won’t touch me,” I asserted firmly.

“Don’t worry about that,” Mum interjected, her tone unsettlingly calm. “When a man is consumed by grief, he can act irrationally. Once he starts mourning his

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loss, use it to your advantage.”