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CHAP 4

It's been two years. I'm not sure if time actually passes swiftly or if I just don't forget things easily. I just shook my head and wore my glasses before looking back at the big house in front of me.

"Welcome back, Atasha," I said to myself, then started walking into the yard.

Nothing's changed. The mansion's interior and exterior still share the same aesthetic. My heels made noise every time I stepped on the marble floor. I couldn't help but become serious when my memories progressively brought me back to what happened two years ago.

I smiled bitterly. Family. They said, abandon everything except your family because they are the only ones you can count on until the end. But that's not the case for me.

How can I appreciate my family if they are the ones who destroyed me?

"What are you doing here?"

I smirked when I heard Eunice's voice. I stopped in the middle of the large living room of the house and then raised my eyes to her. She was walking down the stairs, and next to her was my stepmother, who was looking at me intently.

Tss. Like mother, like daughter.

Just by look she's giving at me, I knew that Eunice had already told her what I had done. I gently removed my shades and dramatically opened my arms. Grinning.

"What? Am I not welcome in our house anymore?"

Her nose almost released a cloud of smoke from what I did. She quickly got down the stairs and was about to attack me, but her mother stopped her. She walked first towards me, and just as I expected, I got a slap on the cheek from her.

"You're such a thick-faced person to show up here after what you did to your sister," she said, fuming mad.

I fixed my hair in front of my face so that it fell slightly on my cheek and then looked at her. "What a wonderful welcome, aunt," I said sarcastically.

"You are no longer ashamed. You even wanted to fornicate with Eunice's future husband!" she snorted at me.

I burst out laughing. "As for you, aunty, it's like you didn't go through being a mistres—" She slapped me again.

"You're a really rude kid! You forget that I'm your father's legal wife!" Her veins almost burst with anger as she killed me with a sharp look.

My lips curled into a smirk. I looked at her without emotion and smiled slightly.

"Because you stole it," I stated.

Now she is the one who sneers and laughs. "I didn't steal anything, Atasha. Your father voluntarily chose me, Eunice, and our family. It's not my fault if he only wanted your mother's body and made a mistake," she said.

I just shrugged my shoulders lazily and walked towards the lounge area. "Well, that's your story. What else can I do?" I chuckled and made myself comfortable on the couch.

"What are you doing here, Atasha? I thought you didn't care about this family since you left." Eunice replied and walked towards me.

My lips slightly pouted. "I never said that I cared about this family."

"Then why in hell are you here?" she asked again.

I dramatically heaved a deep breath. "You guys are too eager to drive me away," I mumbled and looked at my wrist watch. "Well, since my class is almost starting and Daddy doesn't seem to be here, I'll just give you guys my welcome gifts."

I artfully put on my shades and then stood up. I walked closer to Eunice and smiled sweetly at her.

"I forgot to give you something two years ago." In a swift move, my palm landed strongly on her cheek.

I heard the loud gasp of my evil stepmother at the same time that Eunice fell to the floor.

"You really are shameless!" She was about to attack me, but I quickly stopped her hand and slapped her with my empty palm.

She and Eunice are now both on the floor. I took off my glasses and glared at them. I let them felt my intense anger towards them.

"If you think I've forgotten everything you've done, you're wrong." I focused my eyes on Eunice. "After you killed my baby—" I said tremblingly and emphatically, then looked at her mother. "—and after you made everyone believed that I miscarried my own child." I smirked evilly. "You will die begging me to stop torturing your lives."

Eunice let out an insulting laugh before standing up while her mother supported her. "You're overestimating yourself, Atasha," she said, mockingly. "What can you do? Stop my wedding with Zachary? Sorry to burst your bubble, but our upcoming wedding is still going. Zachary loves me."

Really?

I couldn't help but smile while looking at her. "You are too proud of yourself, Eunice. Maybe later you will be surprised... no marriage will take place." I shrugged my shoulders and turned them away gently.

"Do you think I will let that?" her mother interrupted when I was about to exit the door.

I looked at her and then laughed. "I will make that happen," I said, leaving them annoyed at my appearance.

MY SIDE lip curled upward as I walked through the hallway. I am now inside a school after visiting the mansion. I know I'm late for my first class, but I don't care. I didn't really plan to come in early today.

I came to a stop in front of a door and took a position there. My chest soon filled with excitement as I heard his familiar voice coming from where I was. Before carefully turning the door lock, I took a moment to fix my spectacles and the bag that was dangling from my arm.

His voice was echoing all over the room. He took his teaching seriously. He just stopped talking when I finally went inside.

I dramatically took off my glasses. "Good morning, sir," I said with a smug smile and glanced at the man who was standing in front of the class.

Our eyes met. The rapid tension of his jaw did not escape my sight. I secretly laughed in the back of my mind because of how he was trying to calm himself even though he was clearly angry with me.

Zachary Villareal, a professor and doctor, was now giving me his death glare.

I made a small smirk as I moved toward a vacant chair. He didn't say anything and just kept staring at me. Some students were whispering, but neither of us cared.

I met his gaze once more when I finally sat down, and despite the raging anger in my heart, I remained emotionless in my grin.

Beg at me, professor, as you serve my wrath.

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