Chapter 5 This Girl Is Something Else

Michelle's heart clenched as she glimpsed the red mark on her beloved daughter's cheek. Unable to contain her admonishment, she blurted out, "Fernanda, how could you be so violent to your sister? Remember, we're not out in the countryside. This is your home, where such conduct is unacceptable."

Fernanda sneered at Michelle's critique, which insinuated that her rural roots equated to a lack of civility.

Robert, whose modest upbringing was rooted in similar soil, always felt a sting when he heard rural backgrounds spoken of with disdain. That was why he was especially irked by rustic, uncouth conduct.

His features tightened, a cloud of frustration settling over him at Michelle's remark.

"Erika tossed something deeply precious to me into the trash, and in my anger, I lashed out," Fernanda admitted, her voice strained.

Erika countered loudly, her voice tinged with irritation, "It's just a photo! What's the big deal? I got rid of it because it looked creepy. How could I possibly know it was important to you?"

"That photo was of a man named Hiram Hammond, who was like a grandfather to me," Fernanda explained, turning to face Robert with earnest eyes. "I cherish those who have shown me kindness-I never forget them. Don't you agree, Dad?"

Fernanda's face mirrored that of her late mother so vividly that for Robert, looking at her was like peering through a window to the past, tightening a knot of unease in his chest.

Her words resonated deeply, leaving Robert unsettled and filled with discomfort.

The surge of sympathy and anger that Robert had harbored for Erika just moments before had disappeared entirely. Now, a deep sense of guilt began to swell within him. He felt sorry for Fernanda.

Lowering his tone, Robert spoke with a gentle warmth. "Fernanda, I know you're upset, but lashing out isn't the answer. Let's try to approach this more calmly next time, okay?"

Michelle and Erika shared a stunned glance, their eyes wide with disbelief. How could Robert's voice turn so soft and tender toward Fernanda after she had just slapped Erika?

Wasn't Robert the one who never hesitated to denounce unacceptable behavior?

"Dad..."

Before Erika could continue, Robert cut her off, his voice icy as he turned his stern gaze to her. "And you," he snapped. "What were you doing snooping around in your sister's things? From this moment on, her room is off-limits unless she allows it. Is that clear?"

It was rare for Robert to speak so harshly to Erika. A flicker of fear crossed her face, and she instinctively drew closer to Michelle, seeking comfort.

She had been the victim of a hit, and yet Robert seemed to dismiss her plight with a mere few words. As she dwelled on the incident, a sense of injustice grew within Erika, and tears threatened to spill once more.

In her mind, she blamed Fernanda. Ever since Fernanda's return, Robert's attitude towards her had changed drastically.

"By the way," Fernanda began, inserting a thoughtful pause. "If the photo can be retrieved, I'd be grateful if we could find a suitable spot in the house to honor Hiram. I've always regarded him as my own grandfather. I want to express my appreciation for all he has done for me."

"That's utterly ridiculous," Michelle countered sharply. "He was an outsider. How can you even suggest honoring him in our home?"

"Why not?" Fernanda replied, tilting her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Michelle with a challenging stare. "Imagine the admiration we'd garner for our gratitude and respect. Wouldn't that reflect positively on us? What's your take on this, Dad?"

Robert pondered for a brief moment before nodding affirmatively. "It's only fair to honor this benevolent man who played such a pivotal role in your upbringing."

Fernanda's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Thank you, Dad."

As Robert expressed his agreement, Erika's temper flared. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, her emotions overwhelming her to the point of silence.

Erika stormed off to her room, her sobs echoing through the space as she threw herself onto her bed, overwhelmed by a sense of deep humiliation. Never in her life had she felt so belittled.

On the third day, a local courier delivered a package to Fernanda. Inside, carefully wrapped, was Hiram's photo.

Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection.

With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the sitting room.

Within the past two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests-Michelle's nephew and niece.

The man exhibited an unseemly lustfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage.

Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs.

Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere.

As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her.

Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer.

Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank.

A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone.

With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar.

Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink.

Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently.

Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!"