Revenge Of The Jilted Bride (Ophelia)
Jilted Bride 2

Chapter 2 Disappointment

Later that day, Emily approached Ophelia, her smile as bright as ever, and led her toward the pool. They hadn't exchanged many words before it happened-Emily had "accidentally" slipped, reaching out to grab onto Ophelia for dear life.

Despite her swimming skills, Ophelia had found herself at the mercy of Emily's panicked strength. At that moment, the world had turned around Ophelia. Emily had pulled her down into the water, dragging her beneath the surface as if Ophelia were a lifeline. While it was Ophelia who had nearly drowned, it had been Emily who the family had fussed over.

"Mom, Dad, I'm fine. Don't worry so much, okay?" Emily's voice chimed sweetly from the hospital bed, reassuring her family, as if she were the one barely hanging on. "Harry, Nathan, you too. The doctor said it was just a scare, nothing serious." Her words were like honey, but Ophelia could taste the bitterness in the air.

"You silly girl, of course we're worried. How on earth did you end up falling into the pool?" Heather, her mother, hovered over Emily with a steaming bowl of soup. She blew gently on it to make sure that it wasn't too hot for her precious daughter.

Ophelia stood at the door, her chest tight. That small scene, the tenderness in Heather's gestures-it pierced her. She had once dreamed of being cared for like that by her mother.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she begged for scraps of affection, her efforts never amounted to anything. Emily, on the other hand, with just a single tear, could summon the world's sympathy.

It was as if right or wrong didn't matter when it came to Emily. The moment Emily cried, the family just assumed everything was Ophelia's fault and all their protective instincts flocked to Emily, just as they were doing now.

"Emily, did Ophelia push you?" Nathan, Emily's second brother, asked, his voice hard and full of certainty. "We checked the hotel's security cameras. It was just you and her by the pool."

"No, please don't blame Elia." Emily's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she feigned a look of understanding, her voice trembling just the right amount. "It was my fault. I slipped. Really."

But the more she denied it, the more the Hastings family believed her to be the victim. The way she played the part of the understanding, self-sacrificing sister only fueled their conviction that Ophelia was the villain in this story.

"You're too good for your own good. That's why Ophelia keeps taking advantage of you, Emily," Nathan muttered with a frown, his hands balling into fists, anger radiating off him. "Ophelia's been nothing but trouble since she came back six months ago. She's hurt you more than once, and you still defend her?"

Emily lowered her head, letting a tear fall on the white blanket. Her voice was soft, filled with guilt. "It's my fault. Elia's the ture heiress of our family. I've been taking her place all these years. If she resents me, I deserve it..."

It was a well-placed confession, one that practically sealed Ophelia's fate. It was a subtle but undeniable admission of guilt that Ophelia had indeed pushed her.

Harry, her eldest brother, instantly leaned down and stroked Emily's hair gently, his voice tender as he comforted her. "Don't be silly, Emily. I've told you before, you'll always be our little princess. No one can take that away from you. Don't ever let me hear you talk like that again. As for what anyone else thinks, you shouldn't let it bother you."

Emily nodded, and though her face was full of worry, there was a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes that vanished just as quickly as it appeared. "But what about Elia? Is she okay?" she asked, her voice dripping with false concern.

"Don't worry about that outsider. She's still breathing. Focus on yourself, alright? Seeing you like this is enough to break my heart." Harry's voice was dismissive, brushing Ophelia's existence aside like it were nothing. The word "outsider" settled in Ophelia's mind, bitter as poison. Her lips curled into a cold, ironic smile. That was exactly what she was in their eyes-an outsider.

No matter how hard she had tried to fit in, no matter how much she had longed for the family she had been deprived of for twenty years, she had never been one of them in her last life as well as this one.

But this time, things were going to be different. This time, she wasn't going to bend or break for them. The pain, the humiliation she had endured-it was all coming back. But not for her. It was their turn to taste it.

From the corner of the room, Owen, who had remained quiet until now, let out a heavy sigh. "Don't worry, Emily. I'll make sure justice is served," he said, his voice filled with quiet authority.

*****

The Hastings family stood as one of the elite powerhouses in Dellanex, with Sungate Entertainment shining as their crowning jewel.

Their residence Hastings Villa, an opulent estate, radiates grandeur with every blade of grass and meticulously curated plant speaking volumes of the wealth and prestige of its owners. The intricately carved front door, a bespoke marvel, could easily fetch a staggering sum, worth tens of thousands of dollars. Ophelia walked from the gate to the mansion on foot, her steps slow and steady, but the walk took nearly twenty minutes. Hastings Villa was that sprawling.

When she finally stepped into the main hall, she was greeted with the grand sight-ornate chandeliers hanging from vaulted ceilings, the crystal alone worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. In the middle of the living room sat the Hastings family, looking every bit as elite as the home they occupied. Nathan, lounging on the sofa, was the first to notice her. He looked at her with a mixture of boredom and annoyance, crossing his legs with an air of superiority. "You're finally back. Took you long enough. Why are you so late? We've all been waiting for you. Guess you think you're pretty special to make Mom and Dad wait for you."

Ophelia raised her icy gaze to meet his, her once doe-like eyes now glinting with an edge of defiance. For a second, they sharpened into something dangerous, something Nathan had never seen before.

From the moment she had been brought back to this family, it seemed Nathan had taken on the role of her biggest critic, his disdain palpable.

'If this were the old me,' she thought, I'd probably have apologized immediately when he scolded me. Bowed my head, swallowed my pride, and taken the blame.'

For twenty years, she'd lived in a slum, never once allowing herself to be walked over. Yet, after returning to this family, she had bent over backward to strip away every piece of herself just to fit in. Ironically, in doing so, she had left them believing her to be a pushover. 'That was my mistake. It won't happen again,' she vowed silently.

"Why am I late?" Her voice was icy but calm, devoid of emotion. "You should be asking yourselves that. While you all were leaving the hospital, I was still inside, dealing with my discharge papers. It's not easy to catch a cab outside that place and it took me forever to finally get one. So yeah, you had to wait. My bad."

Her tone was so even that it left the room silent for a second. But it was Heather who broke it, her face reddening with anger. "Are you blaming us now, Elia? Since the day you returned, tell me, when have we ever mistreated you?

"I've done my best to make sure you were taken care of. Just because I couldn't attend to you this one time, you come at me with this attitude?"

Ophelia laughed softly, a humorless sound that didn't reach her eyes. Her smile was strikingly beautiful, yet it held a chilling detachment that was unmistakable. "You're saying you've never mistreated me? Since I got here, I've been living in a cramped maid's room barely big enough to turn around in. Emily's bathroom is bigger than my entire space. That's what you call not mistreating me?"

Heather's throat tightened, but before she could respond, Nathan was already on his feet, his finger pointing straight at Ophelia's face. "You should be grateful. We took you out of the gutter, didn't we? That little maid's room is a palace compared to the shanty boat you used to live on in that slum."

Ophelia's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a smirk. "So what, I should be on my knees in gratitude? And tell me, am I or am I not the true heiress of the Hastings family?"

"You..." Nathan's face flushed with rage, his hand clenched into a fist, ready to explode.

Before he could get the words out, Emily piped up, her eyes wide and shimmering with fake guilt. "Elia, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I'll move out of my room right away, and I'll give you half of my allowance. You can buy whatever you want, really. It's me who hasn't been thoughtful enough. Please don't blame Mom and Dad."

Her voice cracked just enough, the edges of her eyes pink, brimming with the kind of tears that never failed to earn her sympathy. Heather's heart broke on the spot.

"Elia, you're the older sister. Can't you be the bigger person for once? Emily's lived in that room all her life. Does this really need to be such a big deal?" Heather's voice dripped with frustration, her maternal instincts flaring up as she gazed at her beloved daughter. Nathan sneered from the side, his voice dripping with contempt. "Mom, stop wasting your breath. She's got no heart. She's just a street rat. She's picked up every bad habit from those lowlifes in the slum. Why else would she push Emily into the pool on purpose?" "Enough." Owen's voice cut through the rising tension like a knife, cold and authoritative. He hadn't said a word since Ophelia walked in, but his face had been tense, frown lines cutting deep into his features.

His eyes, full of disappointment, turned to Ophelia. "Elia, I know Emily's not our biological daughter, but she's been with us for twenty years. She was there when you couldn't be, by our side, taking care of your mother and me. You don't have to thank her, but pushing her into the pool? How could you?"

Ophelia felt a bitter laugh bubble up in her throat. 'That is my father. Blaming me like I chose to miss out twenty years of my life. It wasn't my choice to be swapped at birth, but now I'm supposed to thank the person who stole my life from me?' "Dad, it wasn't Elia. I fell in by accident. Please don't blame Elia for this." Emily's voice wavered, her doe-eyed act on full display.

Owen sighed deeply, torn between the daughter he had raised with care for two decades-Emily, the obedient and understanding girl-and the one he felt had not changed at all, the stubborn Ophelia who showed no sign of remorse. "Look at your sister. Even now, she's defending you. And yet, you can't even apologize. I always thought you were a reasonable child, Elia, but you've disappointed us," he scolded.

The word "disappointed" felt like a bitter echo in Ophelia's mind. But it wasn't just him feeling it. They had all disappointed her first.

She knew what was coming and understood the purpose behind Owen's carefully chosen words. She could hear the thinly veiled ultimatum in his voice, the expectation looming behind his every word.