CHAPTER 4: THE CONFRONTATION
I went to my father's house that evening.
He was sitting in his study, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
"Charlotte," he said. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I need to talk to you."
"About what?"
"About the truth."
His face went pale.
"What truth?"
"The truth about my real father. About the inheritance. About the lies."
He stared at me.
"Who told you?"
"Grandmother."
"Your grandmother is senile. She doesn't know what she's talking about."
"She's not senile. She's been drugged. By you. To keep her quiet."
"That's a serious accusation, Charlotte."
"It's the truth."
He stood up.
"You need to leave. Now."
"Not until you tell me the truth."
"You want the truth?" His voice was cold. "Fine. Your mother was a whore. She slept with my brother while I was trying to build a life with her. And she got pregnant with you."
"So you took her away from him?"
"I took what was mine. And I raised you as my own."
"You took me. You stole me from my real father."
"He was a drunk. A failure. He didn't deserve you."
"You didn't have the right to make that choice."
"I had every right. I was your father. The man who raised you. The man who gave you everything."
"You gave me nothing but lies."
I turned and walked out.
I didn't look back.
Because I knew, in that moment, that the man I had called father my entire life was a stranger.
A liar.
May you like
A thief.
And I was going to make him pay.
