The Guest Who Destroyed My Family Chapter 2

My father was a capable, high-powered CEO. To the outside world, he was utterly devoted to his wife.

When my mother died, he played the part of the grieving widower perfectly. At the funeral, he wept until his knees gave out, leaning on a tombstone as the cold rain fell.

But a CEO is always busy.

Once the tears dried, he washed his face and adjusted his tie. He had a multimillion-dollar acquisition dinner to attend that evening.

Back at the sprawling estate, our head housekeeper held me as I cried. Fiona was busy hugging her own daughter, weeping softly.

When Fiona finished crying, she knelt in front of me. She looked me in the eye and promised that Auntie Fiona would love me just as much as my mother did.

The housekeeper glared at her, shoving her away with a protective arm.

When my father returned that night, Fiona looked up at him with tear-filled, pitiful eyes. My father let out a heavy sigh, lifting a hand to brush a stray tear from her cheek.

She took a step back, her voice barely a whisper. She told him they couldn't keep making mistakes.

My father’s expression darkened. He suddenly pulled her into a fierce embrace, his voice thick with authority. He asked if the living were supposed to spend the rest of their lives suffocating in guilt, insisting that she needed to stop putting everyone else first.

Fiona buried her face in his chest, sobbing quietly.

My father reached into his coat and pulled out a velvet-lined jewelry box. He murmured sweet nothings, telling her he had flown halfway across the country just to get this custom necklace for her. He asked if it made her happy.

Fiona’s tears vanished, replaced by a radiant smile.

She leaned up and kissed my father squarely on the lips.