My Stepfather Was Actually My Biological FatherChapter 1
Mirabelle's POV
The day I got my college acceptance letter, the silver arowana we’d been raising in the aquarium for five years suddenly died, its scales bursting open.
That evening, over dinner, I announced I wanted to cut ties with my father completely, and the whole table went silent.
My grandmother slapped me across the face before I could even take a breath.
“Ungrateful brat! Have you lost your mind? Your father treats you so well, and now that you’ve made it into college, you turn around and betray him?”
My aunt stared at me in disbelief, her tone half-admonishing, half-bewildered. “Your family’s mines connect to more mines. You’re basically sitting on a mountain of cash. Your dad has no other children, so the whole inheritance would be yours one day. And you want to sever ties now? Are you stupid?”
But I stayed firm. I was going to cut ties with him, no matter what they said.
——
Grandma’s mouth curled down into a permanent frown as she scolded me. “Do you know how hard it’s been for your father to raise you?”
Even as she cursed me out, she kept sneaking glances at my father’s face, afraid he might get upset. Well, she had her reasons, as my father’s wealth was her long-term meal ticket.
My aunt joined in the chorus of insults, but halfway through, her voice shifted into something more pointed. “Girls are always outsiders in the end. Mirabelle’s barely gotten into college and she’s already thinking of running off. Surely, once she’s married, she won’t even be part of this family anymore. Manfred, I think you should remarry and have a son of your own flesh and blood—”
But the sound of glass shattering cut her off as my father had slammed his cup down hard enough to crack it.
“Enough! Don’t say another word! Mirabelle is my flesh and blood. I will never marry again!”
He turned to me then, his tone softening so quickly it was almost jarring. There was even a trace of pleading in his eyes.
“Mirabelle, did I do something wrong? Tell me.”
I pointed at the now-empty pond beside us and answered, “Because the silver arowana died.”
Grandma’s eyes went wide, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “You jinx! What nonsense are you spouting? If the fish died, we’ll just buy another one! But if you drive your father away with this attitude, I swear I’ll skin you alive!”
I didn’t argue. I just sat there, letting her insult me.