Forget me not [Yandere Family x Reader]

Chapter 5 - The countdown

After that the old guy stands up "Now that that is over, my name is Warren Windsor, owner of Windsor Inc., these are my three sons but I bet you already know that the driver loves to talk to guests" He walks out of the room and gestures me to follow him, but as I walked out I heard talking from the three sons

"She did it without hesitation?"

"Don't worry about them; they're only concerned about me," he reassured, guiding me into the kitchen. The maids whispered among themselves as we entered, a subtle air of tension lingering.

"Now, tell me about yourself," he prompted.

"Well... I worked at the diner for about two years. I'm planning to go back to college as soon as I've saved enough, and I currently reside in a rather terrible apartment with my roommate, Jasmine."

"What are you going to college for?"

"I want to study finance, and after I graduate and secure a job, I aim to attend art school."

"Art school?"

"Yeah, I've always wanted to go, but my grandma kept saying to go for something that you can work yourself out of debt from, and then go for your dream."

"Any hobbies?"

"Anything, really. But as fast as I pick something up, is as fast as I'll drop it."

"Just like... You must be really hungry and tired from the drive. I'll have the head maid show you to your room, and I'll send up some food," he said, his words carrying a hint of restraint.

A maid approached from behind, leading me to the room with occasional glances in my direction.

"Something to say?" I inquired.

"Oh, it's just—" she began.

"I know I look just like his first wife."

She guided me into the room—a vast, vintage space with a painting resting on top of the bed. To my shock, the painting depicted my face. From the way she smiled to the way she sat in the chair, the resemblance was uncanny and, in all honesty, somewhat creepy.

The maid rushed over and promptly took the painting down. "I am so sorry; you weren't supposed to see that," she apologized, her embarrassment evident as she hurriedly stowed the painting away.

"Is that her?"

"Yeah, I'll just go and put this up and grab your dinner," she rushed out of the room, leaving me alone with the unsettling realization that I truly did resemble someone from the past in an eerie and unexpected way.

Spotting my bag resting on the bed, I grab my phone and begin texting Jasmine.

An hour passes in a blur of scrolling through my phone when a knock interrupts the silence. The door creaks open, revealing one of the brothers.

He offers a nervous smile. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long. The doctor assured us you'll be on your way by Friday."

"I'm aware. Is something on your mind?" I inquire.

He shuts the door behind him and approaches me. "I understand you probably don't care and just want the money to go home, but what if..."

I look at him confused for a moment

"What if the DNA results come back and you're a match?" he murmurs softly, almost as if speaking any louder might shatter the moment.

I sit up in bed, considering his question. "Well... I haven't really given it much thought... I'm not sure, to be honest."

"I'm not sure either. Honestly, I don't think my father has considered a scenario where you're not related," he admits.

"But don't worry, if it comes back negative, I'll be out of your hair," I reassure him, hoping to offer some comfort.

Abruptly, he turns and leaves the room.

The next day the maid led me to the father's library where he was sitting with a chess board.

"Good morning Sca- Y/N"

Struggling to shake off the morning fog, I mumble, "Good morning, Warren," my voice still heavy with sleep.

"Not a morning person?" he observes.

"Not in the slightest," I reply, taking a seat. He prepares something in a teacup and passes it to me. Without hesitation, I gulp it down.

"I thought we should get to know each other and know my sons a little more in these three days"

"Oh ok, well tell me about your three sons"

"All different than the last, Leonard, the eldest, was the embodiment of emotion. His heart was an open book, each page inscribed with the depth of his feelings. Stefan, the middle brother, stood in stark contrast. Cold and reserved, he wore a facade of detachment that shielded him from the complexities of human connection. Julian, the youngest, inhabited a space between his two brothers. Pragmatic and adaptable, Julian balanced the emotional depth of Leonard with the calculated demeanor of Stefan."

Huh, so the one who came in my room last night was Leonard.