Page 51 of The Substitute Fiancée

Damn. What a woman.

“You are going to stop this farce right now, do you hear me?” Arthur shouts. “And you will apologize to your sister and pray she agrees to forgive you!”

Her hand trembles slightly in mine. I tighten my grip, letting her know I’m here.

“Or what, Dad?” Sam asks, her voice dangerously calm.

“Stop this childish nonsense! You’re going to deny these so-called engagements immediately, or I’ll make you regret it.”

“That’s not happening,” Sam fires back without hesitation. “I won’t let Kristel blackmail Alexander. My decision is final. I’m not changing my mind.”

My heart swells in my chest. She’s fighting for me. She’s standing up to her father for me.

“You’re nothing but an ungrateful little brat! If you don’t change your attitude, you can forget about us.”

I feel Sam take the hit. Her breathing stutters for a fraction of a second. In the kitchen, I hear Emelyne choke back an indignant exclamation.

“Was I ever really part of this family?” Sam asks, and her voice cracks slightly on the last word.

“I have never been so disappointed in anyone in my entire life,” Arthur declares, his coldness sending a chill through me.

Sam straightens her shoulders. Something hardens in her gaze.

“The feeling is mutual.”

And she hangs up.

The silence that follows is deafening. Sam remains motionless, phone still in hand, eyes fixed on the black screen. I see her throat tighten as she swallows with difficulty.

I’m in shock. I never would have believed Arthur could treat his own daughter that way, nor imagined a father could be so cruel, so unjust.

Without a word, I pull her into my arms. She doesn’t resist and sinks against me, her forehead coming to rest on my shoulder. I feel her trembling, her entire body racked with shivers she’s desperately trying to control.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I never should have dragged you into this.”

“It was my choice,” she whispers in a muffled voice. “Don’t take that away from me.”

Her hand clenches in my T-shirt, as if anchoring herself to something solid. I tighten my embrace, wanting her to understand that she can lean on me as much as she needs.

I nod against her hair. Yes, it was her choice. And the fact that she made it for me, despite everything it cost her, shakes me more than I want to admit.

Until today, I had no idea she carried such strength within her. Watching her stand up to her father, defend me when she had everything to lose… it stirs something deep inside me.

Something I’m afraid to name.

Little by little, Sam regains control of her emotions. She gently pulls away, wipes her eyes with a quick gesture, then straightens her shoulders. That mask of strength she puts back on breaks my heart.

“Well,” she says with a smile that fools no one. “Shall we eat?”

We help Mara set the table while Emelyne pulls her dish out of the oven. The smell of quiche Lorraine fills the apartment, comforting. The four of us sit around the small table, and despite the lingering tension in the air, we do our best to make the evening as pleasant as possible for Sam.

It’s Sam, however, who ends up lifting our spirits.

“Oh, by the way, I didn’t tell you,” she says between bites of salad. “I had a meeting this afternoon with an art gallery. The owner agreed to take three of my paintings on consignment.”

“That’s amazing!” Emelyne exclaims, nearly jumping out of her chair.

“Wow,” Mara says with a broad smile. “That’s fantastic news!”