Chapter 47: Dawn’s Fault

Chapter 47: Dawn’s Fault After hanging up the call with her father, Genevieve glanced at Jamal through the rearview mirror. He remained focused on the road, hands steady on the wheel. She tossed her phone onto the seat beside her and shut her eyes again as she thought about Jamal this time. She thought about what he had said about not being defined by her past. That was such a kind thing to say although she didn’t believe it applied to her. How could anyone move on from a life like hers? She asked herself as she massaged her temple which was beginning to throb. She was exhausted. She was fed up of the whole act yet there was little that she could do about it but keep keeping up. She hated her life so much. She hated the constant fear that nagged her. The fear of being discovered. The fear of being found out to be a fake. She hated the nightmares that plagued her. Nightmares of everyone finding out that she wasn’t who she claimed to be or wasn’t as smart as she was painted to be. Yet despite how much she hated it, here she was deliberately creating a trap for herself and walking into it by trying to get involved with Jamal, and it was all because she was scared. She was terrified of her father. Why had she been born to Ryan Harris of all people? A man who was capable of not only murdering his wife and in-laws but even his own parents and domestic staff so as not to leave any proof of what he had done would kill her without blinking twice if she so much as tried to act otherwise. She knew without a doubt that she would have had a normal life had she been born to a different father. A normal father, not this monster who posed as a gentleman. She knew very well that the only reason he was still keeping her alive despite knowing that she knew all he did was because she was representing Dawn. At first that had not made much sense to her. She had reasoned that if he wanted to control all that Dawn owned he could easily have treated her nicely and raised her as his own and it wouldn’t make a difference. So why did he have to drag her into all this mess? And then over the last five years she had realized why. It was because Dawn was too smart but she on the other hand wasn’t. He wanted someone who wasn’t as smart as Dawn to be Dawn and she had been the perfect person for the role because she was his biological daughter. The daughter who had done everything he asked her to just so she could please him and be acknowledged by him. Why did he complicate her life so much that she didn’t even know how to correct things even if she wanted to? This was all Dawn’s fault. None of this would have happened had Dawn not come into the picture. She would have been living her life as the ignored maid’s daughter and her father wouldn’t have had anyone to constantly compare her to. She opened her eyes when she sensed that Jamal was no longer driving and she sat up when she saw he had parked in front of the gate and was staring at her through the rearview mirror. "Are you alright?" Jamal asked as she met his gaze. "Yeah. Sure. Thanks. Check the pigeon hole compartment for the controller," she said, and Jamal did as she said and opened the gate. The moment Jamal pulled up to the house, Genevieve glanced out the window at the grand estate— her home, though it never truly felt like one. As Jamal put the car in park, she slipped her heels back on and before he could turn to her, she spoke. "Come with me," she motioned for him to follow as she stepped out of the car with her handbag. He nodded as he got out of the car. Instead of heading toward the main house, she led him around the side, past a manicured garden, toward a smaller but well-maintained building. Jamal had assumed he’d be staying somewhere within the main house, but as they approached the domestic staff quarters, realization dawned. She pushed open the door to a modest but clean hallway and walked in without hesitation. A man in his late forties, dressed in a crisp uniform, looked up from a sports magazine. "Genevieve," the man greeted with a respectful nod. "Bob," Genevieve replied smoothly. She stepped aside and gestured toward Jamal. "This is Pete, my new driver. Show him to his room and let him know what is expected of live-in drivers." Bob’s sharp eyes studied Jamal for a brief moment before he nodded. "Of course." Without another word, Genevieve turned on her heel and walked away, returning to the main house. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders before stepping inside. She headed directly to her father’s private study since he had told her earlier to meet him there when she arrived. She knocked once. "Come in," Ryan’s voice came from within. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind her before moving to the chair across from his desk and sitting down. Ryan leaned back in his chair, studying her. "How did it go with Jamal?" She shrugged, "It went smoothly. He doesn’t suspect anything," she said. "We agreed to have dinner tomorrow." A flicker of approval crossed his face. "Good. How long will he be around?" "He’s not certain yet. But I’m sure he’ll let me know by tomorrow," she said, and he nodded. "Good." There was a pause, then Ryan asked, "Have you seen Abigail?" Genevieve shook her head. "Not yet. There’s no hurry. I’ll see her at dinner." Ryan’s brow lifted. "Go to her room and welcome her before dinner." Genevieve raised a brow. "Why?" "Because I asked you to. That’s what sisters do when they haven’t seen their sisters for a long time."