Reborn From Oblivion -
Chapter 317
Greta and Cameron made their way back to the Brown family estate, and Patrick and Miranda couldn't have been more thrilled. Miranda even went the extra mile to freshen up Patrick, who was bedridden, making him look as lively as possible before settling him into his wheelchair and rolling him down to the grand hall.
When Patrick laid eyes on Greta, a strange smile spread across his gaunt face. With his muscles wasted away, his smile had taken on a sinister edge. Rather than showing the expected surprise, Greta wore a look of sheer awe. She even took a step back. Nathalie voiced what Greta was likely thinking. "Oh, Dad, what happened to you? Even Greta jumped when she saw you."
Patrick, hearing Nathalie's voice, turned to her with a look of horror. "What are you doing here?"
Nathalie had claimed the center spot on the sofa, a place Patrick had always reserved for himself. It was where he would lecture Nathalie with all the authority of a family patriarch. Nathalie imitated him, crossed her legs, and eyed Patrick sideways. "Dad, the doctor said you're in pretty bad shape. You have high blood pressure, diabetes, and heart disease. One wrong move, and you're in serious trouble. I didn't want to miss my chance to be the dutiful daughter, so I decided to move back and keep you company."
Patrick's face was a mask of terror. Memories of his time in prison flooded back, where he was tormented by the top dog, who said Nathalie had specifically asked him to 'look after' Patrick.
Look after him he did. Patrick became paralyzed in the end.
Nathalie was a devil incarnate.
"I don't need your care. Get out," Patrick bellowed, his voice echoing through the hall.
Nathalie, unruffled, replied, "I'm not going anywhere. This family owes me too much. Until I'm repaid, I'm staying put."
Greta turned white as a sheet.
Patrick erupted, "What does this family owe you?"
"Oh, where do I start?"
As realization hit, Patrick's face turned beet red. He barked at Miranda, "Just pretend she's not here. Don't make her any food. Let her fend for herself."
Nathalie chuckled. "I've always been self-sufficient. I don't need anyone waiting on me. Besides, this family has a mix of paralysis and incompetence. Who should be the one being taken care of?" Patrick could barely breathe, his anger suffocating him.
After she had said her piece,
Nathalie strolled into the kitchen. She whipped up a simple dish of
spaghettaglio e olio, picking the et
finest seafood and eggs from the fridge. She then crafted a sauce that sat atop her pasta, making it look absolutely irresistible.
Meanwhile, Greta and the others exchanged awkward glances.
Patrick was paralyzed and obviously couldn't handle any housework.
Miranda was partially paralyzed and could maneuver her wheelchair, but Nathalie had pampered her, so her kitchen skills had withered away. Asking her to cook for the whole family was indeed a stretch. Greta was delicate and lazy. She had never cooked a meal in her life.
Cameron was the typical idle rich kid who probably couldn't tell soy sauce from vinegar.
Finally, Patrick decreed, "Miranda, go make somethingt."
Miranda hesitated, her eyes betraying a hint of hurt and reluctance. But with no one to back her up, she trudged to the kitchen alone.
Nathalie watched Miranda and
smirked. "I used to treat you like royalty. I never let you do any housework. Now look at you. You're less than a servant without me You're half-paralyzed and can't even enjoy a meal cooked by your precious daughter."
Though Miranda's face remained stoic, inside, she felt the sting of disparity. "Greta's always been fragile..." she muttered in defense.
However, Nathalie joined this family with a sharp eye, and she wasn't going to let her get away with it.
"Oh, she's fragile, is she? We both
get by with just one healthy kidney. Yet I'm the one working and building a business while she spends her days doing nothing, flaunting her wealth and basking in her status as Mrs. Dawson. She's got the energy to show off but not to cook a meal for the parents who raised her?"
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