Clay's Unwanted Blondie

Chapter 2

                       ๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙BROOKE˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑

"YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL"

"Then why, Ash? I've been waiting for you to tell me that for six years"

" I was an asshole for not telling you how I felt"

"And how do you feel about me?"

"I love-"

"Ms Brooke. Ms Brooklyn!"

Darn it, she heaved.

It was too good to be true. The only way Ashton Drakkon would profess his love for her was in her dreams. Heck she had no right to even say 'his love for her' because Ashton considered her a friend.

And nothing, absolutely nothing stung like being kicked to the friendzone curb. Seeing the love of your life in love with someone else and pretending that you were happy for him when in reality you wanted nothing more but to strangle the woman in his arms and bury her in some ditch as far away as possible.

"Daddy!"

Andria's voice echoed through the halls reminding her that she was a Konstantinos.

"Ms Brooklyn, your father is already waiting for you downstairs. He'll be angry if you sleep in again"

When was he never angry?

She wanted to ask but she refrained from doing so.

Pulling the long strands of hair from her mouth, she wiggled against the soft cocoons of her bed trying her best to sit up. When she did sit up, the sun's light streaming inside her bedroom like sharp arrows stung her eyes.

"W-what time is it?" She yawned glancing at the old maid in a black and white uniform.

"Time for you to wake up", Marta answered meekly and Brooke rubbed her eyes with a groan.

Andria's voice came soaring again inside her bedroom and she bit her lip wondering what her prim and proper sister was on again at that time of the day.

"Jesus Christ don't tell me she lost her Hermes bag again? No. No. Don't tell me. Let me guess, one of her bitchy friends went to Switzerland without telling her. Ooh, I know. She doesn't have a dress for tonight's party. Spoilt little brat"

Marta, her black hair tucked in a tight bun, glanced at her with a smile. A smile that said 'you know how your sister can be'.

And how she knew.

Everyone in the house knew Calandria and for some if not all disliked her.

Were it not for her being her sister, Brooke would have sided with the Calandria haters the very minute her first two teeth came from her gums.

"She's just worked up, that's all"

"She's always worked up", Brooke stressed pulling the covers away.

"She's in charge of organizing your father's party, you of all people know how stressful that can be"

Marta did have a point. For the sake of it, she stayed mute about Andria. The last thing she needed was to start an endless brawl with her sister.

Ten minutes later with a little help from Marta, she sat in the almost  empty dinner table cutting through her ravioli in silence.

Their father had occupied the head chair like he always did except today, there was a certain uneasiness from him. He barely touched his food and what was more weird was him staring at her.

He never glanced at her, hell he barely talked to her in all her twenty four years living in the Konstantinos' mansion.

"You both know Clay Cervantes right?" Her father started.