Forced to Marry my Sister’s Fiancé

Nine

The imposing iron gates that guarded the entrance to the Valentino Villa were as familiar as ever, their intricate designs a testament to the wealth and status of the family.

Georgia felt as if she had swallowed a lump of coal that refused to go down no matter what. Why did she come back? For f**k’s sake why did she ever think it a good and reasonable idea to come back to this place of torment, to see those terrible people.

As the gates creaked open, Georgia despite all her unease In coming back felt a strange feeling of nostalgia to this dreadful place. She couldn't deny the allure of returning to a place that had once been her home, despite all the painful, terrible memories it held.

The long, winding driveway was lined with ancient oak trees, their branches stretching out to create a natural canopy. The leaves rustled in the wind, bringing with them a breeze that swept through her open window as she drove beneath the trees. The gravel crunched under her tires, a sound that brought back countless childhood memories of playing on the vast estate grounds.

Anthony’s car had already zoomed on ahead, leaving her slow driving towards the inevitable, her stomach in knots. She had to get it together, she thought, biting down on her lip hard. She can’t go in with her emotions in such a disarray, she cannot display such weakness, they would chew up her and spit her out before she knew it. She had to remind herself exactly what minefield she was about to go in. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.

Just as she managed to regain her resolve, she saw the huge victorian villa standing tall and imposing, its red-brick façade still as elegant and regal as Georgia remembered. The ivy that climbed the walls added a touch of old-world charm. Georgia parked her Audi in front of the main entrance, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and determination. There was no going back now.

“Georgie!” Anthony called, and she turned to see him throwing his car keys at a male servant, who got into the wrongly parked car and drove it off somewhere.

“Did I park right? Or does it need to be moved?” She asked motioning to her audi, which she had parked next to a tree, and away from the driveway.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, come let’s go in,” he brushed off her concern, giving her an anxious smile. Before he walked on ahead, pausing once in a while to make sure she was following behind.

Georgia silently followed, taking note of the servants and maid who paused at the sight of her and openly gawked. They were young, she noted. And not one she could seem to remember from her childhood. So it was safe to say they didn’t know her. Or perhaps they had heard of her, but considering the nature of her family, they would rather die than acknowledge her existence.

She was led through the grand foyer, where a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm and inviting glow. The walls were adorned with paintings of her ancestors, a reminder of the family's long and illustrious history. The marble floors gleamed with a polished shine, and Georgia's footsteps echoed through the hall as she followed Anthony to the main living room.

Frankly, she hadn’t even thought she’d get this far. She’d thought the matriarch would’ve already had the guards send her away by now. Could she perhaps have had a change of heart? Ha! Not that bloody woman for sure.

Anthony paused in front of the door to the main living room, where two guards stood, sensitive to his motions and at any commands, would open the door. He hesitated for a while, unsure if it was right of him, before he shook his head and said anyway,

“Be careful in there Georgie, Do not show any weakness, stand tall.” With that, he motioned to the guards to open the door, and they swung open the huge heavy wooden doors and Anthony entered in, not waiting to see if Georgie had followed in or not. He couldn’t afford to be nice to her anymore. She was on her own, as of right that moment.

Upon entering the living room, Georgia was met with a sight that left her speechless. The entire first and second branch and some of the third branch of the family was gathered there, as if they had been waiting for her. She came to a halt, her gaze assessing the room. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t such a welcome.

How many years has it been? Since she’s last seen the faces of these people. Her grandmother, Isadora, the formidable matriarch of the family, sat in a plush armchair, her sharp gaze fixed on Georgia. She had aged. Where they had only only been a few lines of grey that covered her blonde hair, it was now completely a shiny silver, not a whisper of color in sight. Her face however, still remained with so very few lines of age. Isadora for all her might was afraid of old age. And she’d done the best she could to beat time. At 67 she didn’t look a lick over 40. Her hair and the veins on her throat the only thing betraying her age.

“Welcome home Georgia, come, have a seat.” Isadora spoke, her voice as commanding as ever. "It's been far too long. We've missed you."

Georgia remained silent, her cerulean eyes locked onto her grandmother's identical ones. She had learned the hard way not to trust the words of her family. Beneath their façade of warmth, there were hidden agendas and secrets that had torn her apart in the past. She would not be fooled a second time.

Georgia reluctantly took a seat on one of the ornate sofas, her posture rigid. She was acutely aware that she was walking into a sticky web, and she needed to tread carefully. Her family had always excelled in playing mind games, and she was determined not to be a pawn in their schemes.

Now seated, she allowed her gaze to trail from the figure of the matriarch to the woman who stood on the right side of her chair. Once a woman of great timeless beauty, she was shocked to discover the look of her mother now. A woman who had once valued beauty above all else stood a shadow of her former self. Eyes sunken in, and covered with heavy rings of black. Her chin sharp and her cheekbones jutted out, her cheeks sunk low. Her face was void of makeup, and the simple dress she wore hung too loose on her bony figure. She looked closer to the matriarch’s age than the matriarch herself.

Against her judgment, she felt her heart pang in worry for the woman who had tried to drown her once. But her concern had only been fleeting when the disgust and hatred in her mother’s eyes stared her down, her lips quirked in a smile that was meant to deceive her from the utter darkness in her Mother’s eyes as she looked at her. This..she thought, this was a look she was more familiar with, than whatever game her grandmother seemed to be plotting.

She slid her gaze from the bitter sickly woman, to the man who stood by the fireplace. Her father, Leonardo. A man of few words and many secrets. His words so few, she could count the number of times he had spoken in direct reference to her on one hand. He stood watching her with an unreadable expression on his face, his mouth set in it’s usual frown. At least it always way when it came to matters regarding her.

Her aunt Mariah, with her calculating eyes, greeted her with a nod when her gaze slid to her. She unlike her mother, looked as gorgeous as she had remembered. Dripping with wealth and class, as she sat and watched her languidly. Her clean appearance a stark difference to the ugliness that murked within her.

Mariah’s children and her cousins Amelia, Levi, and Lucas, each with their own agendas, exchanged glances and whispered among themselves. Her uncle Henry, Anthony’s father, raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment. While Anthony stood next to his father addressing her with cold indifference, a stark contrast to the man he had been before. But she couldn’t fault him for that. She knew far too much to.

Isadora coldly assessed her long lost granddaughter, who until a while ago seemed to have been wiped off the face of the earth. She had inherited the family’s beauty. Looking an almost exact copy to Isadora’s mother, who had been hailed as the most beautiful woman to have ever been born of the Valentino line. Which went back as far as 1700’s. She was different from Alexia. Where alexia was soft and cute, she had a hardness to her, a sensuality to her every movement. But, she thought coldly. However different the two sisters were, they had to go through with it.

Georgia could feel Isadora’s gaze fixed on her with a calculating intensity. Isadora had always been the mastermind behind the family's power and influence, and her eyes held a depth of cunning that sent shivers down Georgia's spine. She was well aware of her grandmother's ability to manipulate and control, and she steeled herself against any attempts to break her resolve.

“Georgia, dear, how have you been occupying yourself all these years?" Isadora broke through the silence with her inquiry, feigning interest in her granddaughter’s activities, her tone carrying a deceptive warmth. Honestly she couldn’t care less how she fared in the years away from the family, she had wanted her back and she made it happen. Now all that she cared about was where they went from here.

Georgia's response was guarded. "I've been living my life, trying to find my own path." She wouldn’t give them more than she had to.

Isadora's lips curved into a sly smile. "Finding one's own path can be quite a challenge, can't it?" Her eyes bore into Georgia's, as if searching for any sign of vulnerability.

Her Uncle, Henry, chimed in, his words laced with an underlying bitterness. "Yes, it must have been quite liberating to live without the constraints of the family."

Georgia's jaw tensed as she replied, "I needed to find my independence." As if they hadn’t been the one to force her to leave. It was either she left on her own accord or they’d had forced her too. What good was it to have a disowned daughter around?

Her aunt Mariah, cunning and manipulative, added her own dose of sarcasm. "Independence is a luxury, isn't it? Not everyone is fortunate enough to have it."

Georgia clenched her fists by her sides. The conversation was veering into dangerous territory, and she knew they were trying to push her buttons. But she couldn’t help but think of the bitter path she took to securing said independence. She, a sheltered 16 years old, left to fend for herself in the big world with barely a few dollars to her worth. Those few years had been the worst of her life, even worst than the torment she faced living here, and here this b***h was, making light of her struggles, luxury she says? What a joke.

Amelia, her cousin, chose that moment to speak up, her words dripping with insincerity. "Georgia, we've missed you so much. It's been so lonely without you." She’d never liked Georgia. And seeing her look so gorgeous and well kept had her grinding her teeth in jealousy. The stupid b***h must have gone under the knife to attain such looks, she thought, unable to control her jealousy.

Georgia couldn't help but let out a humorless laugh, sensitive to the hatred in amelia’s eyes. "Lonely, indeed."

They hated her all. The only one who had some good feelings for her was anthony. Then why were they trying to be so welcoming? And thinking of bitches, where the hell was that woman?