The Wrong Woman, The Wrong Move

Adoption Certificate

Realization dawned on me—this was probably Grandma's true intention.

Figuring that it was already so hard to demand a house from me, she thought it also wouldn't be easy to take the company away from me in the future. Too anxious to just sit idle, she rushed over, masking her concern with probing questions.

But I was never someone to be easily manipulated.

Displeased, I reminded her, saying, "Grandma, have you forgotten our identities?"

Grandma fell silent. She shot me a complicated look, her gentle demeanor taking a 180 degree shift as she snarled. "Sasha, are you saying that you have no intention of returning the company to Sean?"

I flashed her an indifferent smile and replied, "Grandma, perhaps age is catching up to you, after all. Your memory is deteriorating. I was never obligated to return the company to Sean in the first place. Besides, no matter who runs the company, you'll always be our grandmother. So, why go through all the trouble to take it over?""

Grandma's expression hardened. Slamming the table, she shrieked, "Only a man should run a company! Are you trying to make others laugh at us for not having capable men in our family? Listen, Sasha, you have to return the company to Sean. A woman like you should just get married instead of meddling in men's affairs. What kind of attitude is this?"

She was a misogynist through and through. Though I had long known about her outdated beliefs, it was my first time hearing her speak about them so bluntly.

To Grandma, a woman's capabilities meant nothing. No matter how well I managed the company or how outsiders praised me—with some even envying my family for having me—it was all meaningless.

What truly mattered to her was marrying me off to someone and turning me into a stay-at-home mom. To her, her grandson would always be superior, and my efforts were simply dismissed.

But I had long given up expecting anything different. So, hearing those words didn't affect me at all.

…

Later that afternoon, Sean showed up with Isobel again, likely having found out that even Grandma couldn't convince me to hand over my house.

"Sasha, I understand your concerns," Isobel began gently. "But I'm not after the Carrington family's money… I truly love Sean. No matter how much you try to stop us, it won't change anything."

I nearly laughed out loud at her words. "It doesn't matter. It's not like he's loaded anyway."

Isobel froze.

"Sasha, what are you playing at?" Sean hissed, clearly agitated at the mention of his wealth. I had struck a nerve.

"Sean, I understand now," Isobel said in an attempt to comfort him. "She's probably implying that everything in the Carrington family has nothing to do with you. I can't believe she's trying to strip you of your inheritance just to keep us from getting married."

"She wouldn't dare!" Sean fumed. "Sasha, you'll eventually get married. But I'll always be part of the Carrington family. I'm the rightful heir! Everything in our family is mine to decide. If you won't give me Beaugor Villa, then get out of the family!"

So, this was what our sibling bond amounted to. Once the pretense faded, all that was left was something this horrible.

My heart sank. Throwing a copy of an adoption certificate at him, I snapped, "Sean, take a good look at this! You're nothing more than an adopted son! You don't have a say in our family."

Without even glancing at the paper, Isobel jutted a finger at me and hollered, "Sasha, I can't believe you went so far as to forge a fake document just to keep the money for yourself!"

"If you don't believe me, go ask our relatives," I replied icily.

Realizing that I wasn't lying, Sean spiraled into doubt.