Adrian’s face turned ashen the moment I ended the call. He had always assumed I was insignificant beyond my role as his trophy wife. The truth was a reality he had never bothered to explore, and now it was unraveling before him. Vanessa’s confident smirk faded slightly as she watched Adrian’s reaction, unsure of what was happening.
“Your father?” Adrian stammered, his voice laced with disbelief. “You never mentioned him.”
I slowly got to my feet, each movement sending a fresh wave of pain through my body, but I refused to let it show. “You never asked,” I replied simply, brushing off the dust and blood from my dress.
Vanessa frowned, glancing between Adrian and me. “Adrian, what is she talking about?” she demanded, her composure slipping.
Adrian didn’t respond. His mind was racing, trying to process the implications of my words. He looked at me, his eyes a mix of anger and confusion, as if seeing me for the first time. The reality of my father’s influence was sinking in, and for a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
The seconds stretched on, pregnant with tension, until the silence was shattered by the shrill ring of Adrian’s phone. He hesitated before answering, his hand trembling ever so slightly. The color drained from his face as he listened to the voice on the other end.
