Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 20: Visitor

"Miss Gianna, you have a visitor."

Gianna looked up from her work on the table, frowning when she saw it was the petty receptionist from yesterday.

Even though Mason had told her that the latter would be acting as a temporary assistant till they employed a new secretary, the sight of the short lady with always widened eyes grated on her nerves.

She wasn’t sure if it was because of the expressions she had seen on the latter’s face yesterday—first appearances do matter—or because she just didn’t like the woman.

She sighed, dropped the pencil in her hand on the table. "What visitor?"

Because truly, what visitor would pay her a visit here on the first day. Dane?

No, he had travelled, had updated his status this morning. And she didn’t even think he would be coming back. Just a feeling.

Her ex-colleagues from the Aureates?

"Your mother." The receptionist said simply, shrinking when Gianna glared at her. What did she do now? She was only the messenger!

"What did you say?"

The receptionist swallowed, gripping the doorknob tightly. "A woman... she is at the lobby, says she is your mother."

Not her mother then. The receptionist panicked, fearing for her job, when Gianna’s glare became hotter, when she felt heat prickle across her skin even in the well-ventilated room.

"My mother is dead," Gianna declared hotly. "Whosoever is that woman, send her out of the company."

"Yes ma. Okay ma." The receptionist bobbed her head and fled from the room.

Gianna, seeing her escape, sighed and picked up the pencil. Maybe, she had been too hard?

There was no way the receptionist would have known that the woman wasn’t her mother, that the latter was her aunt, the wife to her father’s elder brother—despicable, utterly ridiculous and foolish like her daughter, Sabrina.

So when the receptionist popped her head into the office again, still looking afraid, and said the woman wouldn’t budge despite the security men that had been sent to cater her out of the premises, Gianna wasn’t surprised.

She would have allowed the pushing away of the terrible woman from the premises, but she had already made enough rumour rounds for the day.

So with a deep sigh she stood up, feeling all the more annoyed for leaving her designs behind, and followed the receptionist out of the office.

In the lobby, she bristled as she saw her aunt arguing with one of the security guards, berating him, insulting him.

"...don’t you have a shred of respect in you?! Surely you can see I’m older than your mother..."

Gianna rolled her eyes, finding humorless amusement, because if not, she would be the one dragging her aunt out of the company.

"Good afternoon, Aunt Josephine," she greeted blandly, impenetrable mask back in place.

Josephine stopped berating the exasperated guard before her and turned to look at her husband’s niece, whom she thought was too arrogant and uncultured.

"Gianna, you wanted me to bring down the whole building before you came to see me?"

Gianna didn’t dignify that question with an answer. She rather turned to the guards, apologized for her aunt’s rudeness, ignoring the latter’s sharp intake of breath, and requested that they return to their work.

"Why are you here, Aunt? This is my place of work."

Josephine waved the words away like it meant nothing. "So, I can’t visit you anymore? Why, because you are working as a mere designer here? Don’t forget, Sabrina is—"

"I am not interested in your shenanigans, Aunt. I was working before you called my attention. Now, you have it. Get straight to the heart of the matter. Why did you come here? To make a fuss?"

Gianna’s lips turned up in a derisive arc when she thought of the latter possibility. She wouldn’t put it past the woman before her to come here just to make a fuss, so that the company would query her.

The family was always trying to make life difficult for her, as if life wasn’t already, as if she wasn’t bearing enough guilt on her shoulders.

It took a few seconds for Josephine to recover from the shock treading her veins.

Of course, she had always known that this dirt before her was bold, especially with her stupid friends close by, fanning those stinking flames.

But her friends weren’t here, and she was working as, at most, a starter designer in this company, for no reasonable company would hire her as a top designer considering the shameful exit of her previous company from the scene. So, what was puffing her up?

Maybe she was just frustrated with life’s demotion? Josephine smiled, appeased. That probably was it.

"Gia, I—"

"It’s Gianna to you, Aunt. Don’t make my name sound creepy."

Josephine’s jaws tightened, her hand smarting with the urge to slap some sense and respect into the latter. But when she remembered Gianna was possibly frustrated, grieving over her lot, happiness almost wounded her, made her hold back.

"Gianna, I know that you are feeling down regarding the demotion you have experienced, but don’t worry, if you keep working, you will be—"

Gianna scoffed, cutting her aunt’s righteous words off. "Keep your advice to yourself, Aunt. I don’t need it."

And there was no need to correct the impression that she was anything but demoted.

"What do you want? I won’t ask this question again. I have work to do in my office."

Her office? Ha! As if! See her arrogance as if she still was the top designer in the country!

Josephine sneered, still hoping to slap Gianna; the latter hadn’t offered her a seat! What impudence. They were standing in the lobby, the centre of mild attention.

"Your uncle asked that I come here and invite you to dinner tonight... It has been a long time since we saw you. And you know today is the anniversary of your grandfather’s death... surely you visited his grave?"

Gianna didn’t. She had forgotten, in the throes of excitement over her new job, over her luck. But she didn’t let that answer, that sadness, show on her face.

"Yes... for the dinner... I don’t have to be there. We both know we can’t stomach each other’s presence. My uncle is the same. There is no need to make ourselves uncomfortable. I’m sure Grandfather wouldn’t want that either."

"Gianna Aldo! You impudent—"

Gianna raised her hand, her recent decision to remain daring amping her. "Don’t. Insult. Me. Or I will have you thrown out."

Josephine just couldn’t understand. "What?"

She exhaled, because they needed Gianna after all at the dinner.

"Please come," she said, gripping her handbag, already wanting to leave, pride dissipated, fury blowing past the roofs. "Your grandfather would have wanted that. You know that, no need lying to yourself."