How can you be this sexual without actually doing anything sexual...

I shook my head at my own thoughts. My mind was officially corrupted by the endless romance books I had been reading and the love-making songs I would occasionally, truthfully more than often, listen to only made it worse.

After taking my shower, I grabbed two towels from the towel rack. I wrapped myself in one and my hair in the other. Walking back into my room I noticed that it was raining even harder. I always loved the rainy weather.

I dressed myself in leggings and a jumper that was at least two sizes too big. After running a comb through my hair, I let it loose to air dry.

The moment I stepped into the hall the smell of food prickled my nose, demanding that I followed it. With a huge smile on my face, I stepped into the kitchen, but halted in the door opening.

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched Anthony and Tia. They seemed so lost in a conversation and even though I was standing too far away from them to hear what they were saying, I could tell by their behavior that they were not agreeing with one another.

Maybe she's mad, because he was out all morning?

Anthony ran his fingers through his hair. He licked his lips whilst he was looking up at the ceiling. Meanwhile Tia kept on talking with a concerned look on her face, her left pointer finger almost touching Anthony's face.

When he slightly turned away from her his eyes met mine and he froze for a second, making me confused. Tia turned towards me as well, letting out a sigh.

"What's going on?" I carefully asked with a small smile.

No answer was given to my question, instead Tia turned to Anthony who looked at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Go on. Tell her." She cajoled him into speaking.

I walked closer to them before I stopped in front of the island that served as a barrier between us. Leaning forward I playfully raised my eyebrows up and down at Anthony who did not seem amused.

His eyes lowered to the floor. "Mattia wants you home."

I instantly straightened myself as my eyes widened with shock, my mind slowly processing what he had said.

"W-what?"

"Your sister has contacted me, Mattia has ordered for us to return home. We have to be there as soon as possible. The tickets have been taken care of; we're leaving in two hours."

He sounded like a robot, as though he was programmed to deliver a message as clear as possible. No emotions could be detected in his voice. My eyes moved to Tia who gave me an encouraging smile, hoping to make me feel better.

"You spoke to Marissa?" I asked in a soft voice.

"Yes, your family is awaiting your arrival."

I shook my head from left to right at what he had said. "Wait, who— how? Why are you in contact with them? You never mentioned that you know them." I began to ramble.

Four years after Tia and I had moved to England, Anthony came to live with us. I was told that he was her nephew and that he simply needed a place to stay.

In the four years that came after he had moved in, we grew closer, eventually he became my best friend, and I became his. At least, that is what I thought.

He knew all about the family that had pushed me out. He was the one that told me that I was better off without them, yet there he was standing in front of me, telling me that we were going back to them.

"Anthony!" I raised my voice as my shock turned into anger.

He dragged his eyes to meet mine. "Your family wanted to make sure that you were safe, it was my duty to look after you. I-I never meant for you to find out this way." He gulped.

I stared at him with a blank expression, too disappointed to utter one word. This was the person I trusted, the person who I told almost everything to.

I felt betrayed as I looked at the only two people in the world I considered my family, my loved ones. I bit the inside of my cheek as my eyes lowered to my hands.

"Mattia and the others just wanted to make sure that you were well taken care off."

I scoffed. "Right, because they care so much, right?" I sarcastically smiled. "Why now? It's been eight years, so why now?"

"I don't know—" he said, emotionless. "You'll have to ask them that yourself."

With his hands in his pockets, he walked off, not wanting to continue the conversation. The day I had to leave my father's house, fourteen-year-old Emmanuelle believed that her siblings knew better and that they had a reason for sending her away just days after their father's death.

But then the days turned into weeks, months, eventually years and not one of them contacted me. By the time I was sixteen, I had promised myself that I would make it my life's goal to pay them back every single penny that they had ever spent on me even if they did not need it.

"Let's just see what they want, okay princess?" Tia stroked my hair to the back.

As much as I wanted to protest going back, I could not. We might not have spoken or seen each other in years, but they still took care of me financially. So, a choice— that I certainly did not have.

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