The Clark family squirmed, the air thick with awkward silence.
A
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Natasha was a porcupine in a fight–sharp and unyielding. Every argument ended in a blowout. This time, they’d sat down to talk, but an apology? Yeah, that wasn’t on their radar.
Still, she was right. They’d jumped to conclusions, and it made sense she felt screwed.
A quick “sorry” could smooth things over. No shame in that.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia blurted, jumping in first. “Natasha, I’m sorry for all of us. This mess started ‘cause
I got hurt, and everyone flipped out. It’s not Mom or Dad’s fault. Hate me if you want.”
“This isn’t on you. It’s that snake Alice stirring crap up,” Madeline snapped.
The family broke into a loud mess of voices, all coddling Olivia, forgetting Natasha existed.
Natasha didn’t blink. She was used to being ignored. Her eyes pinned Andrew, the one running the
show.
Andrew cleared his throat. “Alright, I messed up. I got you wrong. Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”
“Shares…” Natasha let it hang, smirking as their faces soured.
Then she scoffed. “Chill, you’d never hand them over.”
Truth was, every Clark kid got 5% of the company at eighteen. Natasha’s share? Already gifted to Olivia, no questions asked.
Because they thought Natasha supposedly owed Olivia for something bigger than cash.
To them, five percent? Nothing compared to Olivia’s mom’s life.
Andrew saw the contempt in her eyes, and it hit him like a punch.
“If you’re really sorry, give me Grandma’s house. Today.” Natasha went straight for the jugular.
The house wasn’t worth much, but its sentimental value? Priceless.
It wasn’t a big ask, but Andrew and Madeline shared a weird look.
Andrew dodged her stare. “We’ll talk about the house after you’re engaged.”
“I told you, I’m done with Lucas. No engagement.” Her voice was ice. “You said I could name anything, but you can’t even do this? That’s your apology?”
Andrew’s face reddened, shame turning to rage. He slammed the table. “You’re too damn
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Chapter 9
impulsive! An engagement’s not a game. No wedding, no house.”
“That house was Grandma’s gift to me. Why do you get to hold it over my head?”
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“Because I’m your dad. And it’s in your mom’s name now!” he barked. “You think you can ditch the engagement? You know how much business we’ve got with the Wrights?”
“So? Your business isn’t my problem.” She’d never taken a cent of their profits.
Andrew had nothing left, so he exploded. “If you won’t marry, maybe your sister will. We’ll give her the house. Grandma didn’t say it was yours.”
That lit the fuse. Natasha shot up and flipped the dining table with a furious shove. Plates, glasses, and hot soup flew, soaking everyone.
Screams filled the room.
Eyes blazing, Natasha glared at the drenched Clarks, snarling, “Give it to her? She doesn’t deserve
it.”
Madeline had shielded Olivia when the table went flying, but the soup still splashed Olivia’s head.
Olivia looked ready to sob. “Natasha, I get that you hate me, but she was my grandma too. Why say that?”
Noel spat out food, grumbling, “Ignore her. She’s nuts.”
“You little brat! Flipping tables in front of us? What’s next?” Andrew roared, shaking with fury.
“You little brat! Flipping tables in front of us? What’s next?” Andrew roared, shaking with fury.
A nervous maid loitered outside the restaurant, eyeing the chaos within–plates shattering, voices barking. They couldn’t tell if now was the time to slip in and clean up the mess.
Andrew wiped veggie juice off his face, his glare hard as he laid it on the line. “You want that house? Then play ball with the engagement. Get in line for this month’s shindig, or it’s gone.”
He wasn’t clueless–Lucas was nuts for Natasha. Twenty years as childhood besties? They didn’t just trade that out.
Natasha always kept the family at a distance, but her grandma was her Achilles‘ heel. Andrew was sure she’d buckle.
Natasha, battered by the family’s yelling, went dead calm. She looked at the man claiming to be her dad, but he felt like a stranger from another planet.
Maybe he’d forgotten when she was little, when he’d hoist her up, all smiles, swearing only the best guy could have his princess. Anyone who hurt her? He’d vowed to break their legs.
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Chapter 9
But Andrew didn’t get the explosion he expected.
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Natasha’s voice was ice–cold, dripping with venom. “Ignoring Grandma’s last wish? Not scared she’ll haunt your dreams, Mr. Clark? You and Mrs. Clark sleeping sound?”
Her creepy tone, wild hair, red eyes, and pale face made her look like a ghost ready to settle a score.
The Clarks froze, a chill running through them.
Natasha knew Andrew’s stubbornness too well–tonight was a bust. She turned to go, but not before grabbing a chair and smashing some prized junk–three old vases, a fancy painting, five pricey trinkets.
The Clarks‘ treasures weren’t hers anyway, so why care? Smash away.
Her wild, icy stare shut them up. They just watched her rampage, silent. Maybe they were too scared to budge, afraid of getting caught in her storm.
As she reached the door, Andrew bellowed, “Your grandma’s house-”
“Don’t want it.” She tossed the words back, not sparing a glance as she strode out.
Lucas was Olivia’s tainted trash–she wasn’t picking it up again.
If her grandma’s keepsake turned into a knife aimed at her heart, the old woman wouldn’t rest easy in heaven.
It betrayed everything her grandma wanted.
No way was Natasha letting a house chain her to them. Even though letting go felt like tearing her heart out.
Her steps were firm, her back ramrod straight, unbreakable. Only her misty eyes and trembling hands hinted at the cracks.
‘Keep going, Natasha,‘ she told herself. ‘No looking back. Just move,’
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