Chapter 2: Million Feelings, Zero Words

AZALEA’S POV

I wanted to scream! But then, I could only lift doubtful and sad eyes to my father, hoping that I still had time to spare, but he disappointed me with a disapproving frown.

“You heard right. Go with him, Azea. Be a good wife.” My father proved to me that I was no longer needed.

Hot tears formed in my eyes as visions of the past flipped through them. I remembered Leo's infidelity with my step-sister and made a quick decision to do exactly what I was told because there was no place for me in my father's house.

I'm alone in this cruel world and the only person I have who can't betray me is myself. The earlier I understood that the better for me.

With that one point, I made up my mind. I sniffed my tears back, dabbed my face with the back of my palm, slanted one last disdainful glance at Morgan Peyton, then turned to meet the grey-suit-man’s gaze with a quizzical frown.

As if he could read my mind, his eyes lit up in understanding. He told me that I need not worry about anything because everything I need will be made available to me in my new home.

Although a series of other questions played in my head, I stayed silent on the drive to my new home in just my nightgown, my cell phone held in one hand. I have heard people say that when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade with them, but I haven't heard them explain how one makes these lemonades with a broken soul.

Buried in thought, I slipped into a restless nap in the car. When my eyes fluttered open again, the car had already stopped moving and was parked in front of the largest and most beautiful mansion in the city. The curvy driveway was larger than the compound of my father's house and the garden included. The building was surrounded by trees, well-manicured lawns, and six statues. Each statue conveys a message, but they all tell one story. The historical lineage of the great Drummonds family.

About ten uniformed domestic staff came to stand by the car, their heads lowered as one of the men in a black suit and Bluetooth device attached to an ear walked over to my side of the car and opened the door for me. I reluctantly stepped down from the car and let my eyes sweep around the house and its touch of nature.

I let one of the uniformed ladies walk me to the entrance of the house, then she took the lead to push two brass gates wide open to reveal the expectant faces of two women and a young man. My eyes roamed around the big sitting room, taking in the space, art on the wall, two adjacent stairways, and the sitting room by the left-hand side. Then my searching eyes locked into the prying eyes of the eldest woman in the room; she was in a wheelchair and a young man stood behind her.

I bent slightly in greeting. I guess they already know that I am a stammer, so I don't expect them to want me to talk or give a vocal response to them, but surely, I know they'd still give me weird looks and I will be either an object of pity or ridicule. Gratefully, these women showed none. 

“You're Azalea Peyton. My daughter-in-law!” The older woman in a wheelchair announced in a vibrant voice. I nodded and she exchanged looks with the suit-man that picked me up, then waved at me to come closer. 

She looked so fray and sickly which was surprising compared to her voice. I noticed this as I took three conscious steps closer to her, my eyes scanning the face of the other woman beside her.

“I'm Emma Drummond and you're now family.” The old woman held out her hand and I took it in a gentle grip. 

“My dear, give me a big hug.” A laugh wrinkled her face as she held out both hands and I bent into her arms. She patted my back, then released me. I couldn't hold back a smile as I pulled away. “You'll meet the rest of the family at the welcoming party,”

Party? My mind started racing.

“Mama, I didn't think you were going to go this far after our last discussion! A wife is the last thing that Dante needs right now. Besides, he's been in that state for…” 

“Shut up, Larissa! If you can't accept my decision, then use the door!” Mrs Drummond surprised me with the energy with which she verbally attacked the younger woman standing beside her.

“Well, she's welcome to this wonderful family. Who am I to go against my mother? She always knows the right thing to do and say.” Larissa stepped forward and lifted my chin so I could meet her gaze by putting a finger on my jaw. 

“I get it. You can't even say a proper greeting because it'll take you forever to form a full sentence. My mother knows how to pick the perfect bride for my brother.” She let her finger linger on my jawline, then let her hand fall by her side as she walked away. 

“Ignore her, my dear.” Mrs Drummond gave my hand a little reassuring squeeze. “You can take her to her room, Gerald.” She said to the man who brought me in with a dismissive wave. The young man behind her bowed slightly and started pushing her wheelchair toward the door.

“This way, Ma'am.” Gerald led me to the staircase. 

I followed him quietly, carefully watching each step I took so much that I couldn't hear my footsteps as I walked. We passed two doors, then there was the end of the hallway that led to a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling glass windows that held a sense of freedom and a view to die for.

I overlooked every other thing and hesitated to take in the view outside the window. When I realized that Gerald was no longer with me, I hurried toward an open door that led to another hallway. There were two doors adjacent to each other, and there was another stairway, so I became confused about which way Gerald went. I slowly walked up the stairs and stopped at another hallway that led to many other rooms. 

When I saw a dimming light spilling from one of the rooms, I was driven by curiosity toward the door and I stopped when I heard a deep voice coming from the room. Well, I wasn't going to eavesdrop as common sense told me to retrace my steps, but the words I heard pinned my legs to the floor.

“Forgive me, dear cousin, but you must not wake up now. I am almost achieving my goals and it would be a relief if you'd just stop fighting so much and stay in this deep slumber forever.” The voice said as I bent slightly to peek into the room through the peephole.

A lean, bearded man stood over a much more muscular man lying in a king-size bed; he held a syringe in his left hand while he gently rubbed on the man's cheek as if he meant to lure him to sleep. He murmured something else to the man's face, then straightened up to inspect one of the IV wires attached to the man's left arm. The man's face was out of my view but I noticed an oxygen mask covering his face.

When I figured out what the man was trying to do, his words obviously giving his intentions away, I pushed the door wide open so that it made a loud noise and the man swung around in surprise. He was so startled that the syringe slipped to the floor and I consciously stamped my feet on it while he struggled to compose himself.