My Enemy's Daughter (Edited)

chapter 19

Fiona's POV

The cool evening air was refreshing as opened my from door, my mind a jumble of emotions from the night before. Samuel had said he’d pick me up, and as I stepped of my house to where his car was parked, I saw him standing by the passenger side, holding the door open. His back was turned to me, and I took a moment to appreciate the sight of him dressed in a sharp suit, the kind of attire that seemed to fit the occasion perfectly.

When I shut the door behind me, Samuel turned to face me, his eyes widening as they took in my appearance. The look of admiration on his face made my heart flutter.

“Wow,” he said with genuine awe. “You look incredible.”

I smiled, feeling a bit self-conscious but pleased. “Thank you. I guess you made a good choice with the outfit this time.”

Samuel chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I promised I’d never make that mistake again. You deserve better than what I initially gave you.”

I laughed softly as I slid into the car. “Well, I appreciate it. Let’s see how the rest of the night goes.”

As Samuel drove, the conversation shifted to our week. I told him about my clients, trying to keep the details light and engaging. One of the names I mentioned seemed to spark his interest.

“Wait,” Samuel said, turning to me briefly. “You know Clara Khems?”

“Yes,” I replied. “She’s one of my father's favorite clients. We’ve worked together on a few projects.”

“Interesting,” Samuel said, nodding. “I’ve heard quite a bit about her. She’s quite influential. Make sure to introduce me when we get to the event.”

I nodded, noting the way his tone changed when he spoke about Clara. “Sure, I’ll make the introduction.”

The drive to the event was filled with small talk, but my mind was partially occupied with thoughts of the evening ahead. When we arrived at the venue, it was clear that the event was in full swing. The building was beautifully decorated, and the guests were dressed in their finest. I noticed that Samuel seemed particularly attentive, scanning the crowd with a keen eye.

When we walked in, my father’s gaze swept over us. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw me, but his face quickly adopted a smile as he approached us. It was a practiced smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fiona,” he said, his tone a mix of surprise and forced warmth. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hello, Father,” I replied, trying to match his forced cheerfulness. “I’m here with Samuel.”

My father’s eyes flickered to Samuel. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Enjoy the evening.”

With that, he moved on, leaving me feeling uneasy. Samuel, however, seemed absorbed in the crowd, and his attention was clearly focused on the people I introduced him to. He chatted easily with guests, and it was apparent that he was making a good impression.

I introduced Samuel to Clara Khems, the influential client I had mentioned earlier. Clara, who was around Samuel’s age, greeted him warmly, and they quickly fell into an animated conversation. Clara’s charm was evident as she pulled Samuel to meet others in her social circle. I stood back, feeling a pang of jealousy as I watched them interact.

Clara had a way of holding Samuel’s attention, making him laugh and smile. I caught myself thinking that it shouldn’t be Clara who made him laugh—it should be me. The realization surprised me, and I struggled to push away the growing sense of insecurity.

My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed my father watching me from across the room. I tried to avoid his gaze, but he made his way over to me with a knowing look.

“So,” he began, his tone dripping with mockery, “how’s the evening with Samuel going? Are you enjoying yourself?”

I forced a smile, trying to remain composed. “It’s been fine so far.”

“You know,” he continued, his voice low and taunting, “it’s amusing to see you with someone like Samuel. You really think you fit into his world? Look at him with Clara Khems—someone who’s clearly his type, someone who belongs in that high business echelon.”

I tried to maintain my composure, but his words cut deep. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, please,” my father said, his voice laced with condescension. “You know exactly what I mean. Samuel needs someone who fits his world, someone like Clara. You’re not that person. Don’t get your hopes up too high.”

His words were like daggers, piercing through the thin veil of my self-assurance. I felt tears stinging at the corners of my eyes, but I fought to hold them back. My father’s mockery was relentless, and I struggled to keep my emotions in check.

Just as I was about to say something sharp, Samuel appeared beside us. He flashed a charming smile, his presence a welcome distraction. “Sorry for getting a little carried away,” he said smoothly. “Are you ready to leave, Fiona?”

I nodded, grateful for the escape. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Samuel took my hand gently, guiding me away from the crowd. As we walked to the car, I tried to push away the hurt and focus on the evening ahead. Samuel chatted animatedly about Clara and the people she had introduced him to. His excitement was palpable, but I could feel a tightness in my chest as he spoke.

“Clara Khems is quite the figure,” Samuel said. “She’s connected with so many influential people. It was fascinating to hear her talk about her projects.”

I managed to offer polite responses, though inside I was seething with frustration. Samuel’s enthusiasm for Clara was hard to ignore, and I struggled to keep my irritation in check. The drive home seemed to stretch on forever, each minute feeling like an hour.

When we finally arrived at my apartment, I was eager to get inside. Samuel walked me to the door, his smile warm but his eyes oblivious to the turmoil within me.

“Would you like me to come in?” he asked, his voice light and hopeful.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Not tonight, Samuel. Maybe later.”

He looked surprised but nodded. “Alright. Goodnight, Fiona.”

As he walked back to his car, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, my breath coming in shaky gasps. The sting of tears I had been holding back finally overwhelmed me. I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my face as I thought about my father’s words and the sense of inadequacy they had stirred within me.

I took a few moments to let the tears flow, feeling the weight of my emotions. Then, I closed my eyes and began to pray, seeking solace and guidance.

“Dear God,” I whispered through my tears, “I feel so lost and hurt right now. My father’s words cut deep, and I’m struggling with these feelings of inadequacy. I need your strength to get through this. Please help me find clarity and peace. I trust that you have a plan for me, even if I can’t see it right now. Help me to be strong and to trust in your guidance.”

I sat there, trying to find calm amid the storm of my emotions. After a few minutes, I felt a sense of resolve and calm starting to settle in. I got up slowly, wiped away my tears, and headed upstairs to prepare for bed.

As I lay in bed, I realized with a sinking feeling that I had once again forgotten to talk to Samuel about my past. The conversation I had been dreading and hoping for was still unspoken. With a resigned sigh, I whispered to myself, “I leave it in your hands, God.”

Then I closed my eyes and tried to let sleep take over, hoping that tomorrow would bring a chance to confront my fears and find the answers I needed.