Part 3The Fiancée Who Picked the Wrong Family

My words detonated the quiet atmosphere in the living room below.

I heard my grandmother let out a bark of laughter.

“Our Mia is right! Why should she give up her room? Sophia, if you’re not comfortable here, Ethan can get you a suite at the Four Seasons. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”

My dad lowered his newspaper and shot a look at Sophia. “The loft is Mia’s sanctuary. Nobody touches it.”

My mother’s voice, though still gentle, had an edge of steel. “Sophia, if there’s anything you need for the guest room, anything at all that’s not to your liking, you just tell me. Don’t hesitate. I’ll have it taken care of immediately. But Mia loves her loft, and that’s where she’ll stay.”

It was only then that Ethan seemed to catch on. He scratched his head, turning to Sophia. “I mean… I can ask Maria to swap out the mattress for a softer one? The loft is pretty old anyway. If Mia likes it, she should just stay here.”

Before he could finish, the door to the study creaked open.

My grandfather emerged, leaning on his cane, his face a thundercloud.

“Ethan! Are you deaf? What belongs to Mia is hers, and not even the President of the United States can take it away from her!”

“One more word out of you, and you can both go check into that hotel right now!”

Though his words were aimed at Ethan, every single one was a bullet aimed directly at Sophia.

The blood drained from her face, leaving it pale and waxy.

After a few seconds that stretched into an eternity, she managed to produce a smile that looked more painful than a grimace.

“Grandpa… please don’t be angry. I—I was just joking.”

“The loft is Mia’s, of course it is. I’m perfectly fine in the guest room, really…”

I watched her pathetic, backpedaling display and scoffed internally.

Joking? Who’s joking with you?

Trying to steal my things, in my own house.

You’ve got to get through my grandparents, my parents, and my brother first. Good luck with that.