Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I was on the verge of declining when I caught sight of Burgess's mocking expression. His smirk seemed to mock Roxanne's eagerness to secure a favorable match for me, as if she were trying to elevate our family's status through my association with the Jefferys.

Burgess interjected casually, "The Jeffery family has always held themselves to high standards. I'm not sure Oprah would meet their expectations."

His words were dripping with condescension, a thinly veiled insult aimed at my modest background. To Burgess, I was nothing more than an outsider, unworthy of the esteemed Jeffery family's attention.

Refusing to tolerate Burgess's derision, I couldn't help but sneer in response. "Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out. I'll give it a try and see if Alfred and I are truly compatible."

Burgess's expression darkened at my retort, his displeasure evident in the icy glare he directed at me. "You'll regret it!"

But I refused to back down, meeting his gaze with unyielding determination. "What do I have to regret?" I challenged, rising from my seat with a dismissive shrug. "At worst, Alfred may decide we're not a match, and then you can have your moment to gloat."

Burgess's narrowed eyes bore into mine, his silent rebuke clear in his frosty demeanor. But I paid him no mind, refusing to let his disdain diminish my resolve.

As Roxanne exchanged a meaningful glance with me, silently urging me to apologize to Burgess, I felt a surge of conflicting emotions.

"Oprah, Burgess is your brother. No matter what, he's doing it for your good. Don't always try to provoke him. Apologize to your brother and be more respectful from now on," Roxanne said softly, her tone pleading.

Feeling torn between defiance and familial duty, I turned away, intending to distance myself from the tense atmosphere. However, Burgess's firm grip on my arm halted my retreat.

"Oprah, don't walk away," Burgess said firmly, his voice cutting through the air with authority.

Old Mr. Harrison's intervention brought a temporary reprieve, as he diverted the attention away from our family discord and toward the family dinner. "Alright, alright, let's go eat first," he said, attempting to diffuse the tension in the room.

But even as we sat down to eat, the atmosphere remained strained, the conversation stilted and forced.

"Happy birthday," I said quietly, offering a forced smile before excusing myself from the table.

 I couldn't bear to spend another moment in that suffocating atmosphere, suffused with unresolved animosity and strained relationships.

***

The following day, Zoey's enthusiastic invitation to a charming café left me feeling apprehensive yet curious.

 As we settled into our seats, Alfred's warm smile helped to ease my nerves. "I never imagined that I would be sitting here, having a blind date with a beautiful girl like you," Alfred said, his tone genuine and sincere.

His compliment caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but feel a blush creeping up my cheeks in response. But beneath the flattery, I sensed a genuine sincerity in his words, a genuine interest in getting to know me beyond surface appearances.

So, I playfully asked, "Alfred, you shouldn't have trouble finding a girlfriend, right? Why did you agree to this blind date with me?"

"I could turn the same question back at you," Alfred responded with a charming smile, deflecting my inquiry with ease.

We shared a smile, a silent agreement to let go of any lingering doubts or uncertainties. Instead, we focused on enjoying each other's company, delving into topics that piqued our mutual interest.

As the day progressed, we continued to explore each other's company, sharing meals, watching movies, and indulging in leisurely strolls through the city streets. With each passing moment, I found myself drawn to Alfred's warmth and sincerity, grateful for the companionship he offered.

Before I knew it, half a month had passed, and Alfred and I had grown closer, our bond deepening with each passing day. On Valentine's Day, we made our relationship official, embracing the opportunity to celebrate our newfound connection.

However, the following day brought an unexpected turn of events. Alfred's sudden cancellation of our dinner plans left me feeling disappointed and confused, questioning the sincerity of his intentions.

Returning home from work, I tried to push aside my doubts, convincing myself that Alfred must have had a valid reason for canceling our plans. But as I settled into bed, a text message from him further fueled my uncertainty.

"Do you desire men that much?" the message read.

As I read the nonsensical text message, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. It was unmistakably from that man who had been stalking me. Since I blocked his previous number, he must have got a new one just to text me.

With a growing sense of unease, I decided not to respond, hoping that my silence would deter him. B

But then another message arrived, "If you keep avoiding me, don't blame me for doing something bad to you."

It made me reply to him.

"What do you want?" I typed back, my fingers trembling slightly as I hit send.

His response was chilling. "Break up with Alfred."

My heart pounded in my chest as I read his demand. The audacity of his request filled me with rage. "That's impossible," I shot back, my fingers flying across the screen.

But his reply was relentless. "Nothing is impossible. Once you break up with him, I can fulfill all your desires in bed and elsewhere."

I felt a surge of anger rise within me. Who did he think he was, making such vile propositions? I wanted to hurl my phone across the room in frustration, instead, I forced myself to type out a response.

"What have I done to offend you? Why are you tormenting me like this? Do you want to drive me insane before you stop?" I demanded, my words dripping with frustration and desperation.

For a moment, there was silence.

As I anxiously awaited his response, hoping my words had finally made him reconsider his actions, his message came through with a jarring intensity.

"You're the one who is driving me insane. I've tried to ignore you, give up on you, and stop caring for you, but every night when I close my eyes, I can't control the desire to possess everything about you."

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver down my spine. It was as if he had crawled inside my mind, extracting my deepest fears and desires and laying them bare for all to see.

"I want to kiss you from head to toe and fuck you passionately. Your whole body should belong to me; no one else should touch it."

"Oprah, did you cast a spell on me? Please tell me, why am I so addicted to you?"