From Scorn to Sparkling; The son-in-law's Redemption.

CHAPTER TEN: Tom's Daughter's Nightmare

BRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIING!!

An alarm clock clanged in the opulent and silent room where Roselvett slept. Her room, a pink-painted spacious room, with paintings and carvings attached to the wall, which included her enlarged pictures, a well-painted flower vase with some pink roses stood close to her makeup desk.

Light rays pry their curious eyes beneath curtain spaces, trying to make her understand that it was a new day, "a fresh start" for her.

She opened her eyes unsure if she had dreamt of anything last night, first blinked and wiped her face, then stretched as though her body parts were about to disintegrate.

Her bed, a king-sized family bed, one that makes her look tiny when she cuddles to her teddy bear beneath pillows, it spreads across like a wide football field. She sits up and makes her normal "sign of the cross" routine by running her fingers to her forehead, then to her shoulders, with the other hand placed firmly on her chest, which was already covered by her big ripened b**bs.

She opens the door and goes down the stairs, heading first to her father's room. She knocks at her father's room, first gently, then harder... Knock, knock, knock!!!

'Should he still be mad at me till today? She asked curiously. Her naked feet swished dryly as she pushed the door open to pry, surprisingly, she saw what she never expected, this was all she always feared for...

Here it was right before her.

NO!! This must be a joke", she retorted.

She ran down the stairs, in an attempt to scream her dad's name, but she found him in the kitchen busy making breakfast.

This was a big surprise to her, she had thought of something different, maybe her dad had angrily left the house when she went to bed last night or probably something more scary.

******

Prince Tom, knew of several tactics to make a woman calm, this was exactly the method he used whenever Mrs. Thelma was angry, not until fate took its course and they were divorced.

"Good morning Dad". Roselvett greeted. He turned smiling profusely at her as though surprised...

"How was your sleep?" He asked.

"I slept well, Dad. I, I am sorry about last night, she stammered".

But he quickly waved it off with a calming reply, "It's alright my Angel, you're my daughter and it's my duty to always assist you in every way possible".

********

Before now, Prince Tom had awakened to a foreclosure message from Barclays Bank, reminding him of his several defaults in repayment of his loaned amount.

He had sat thinking of what would befall him as his only remaining apartment, the one he is occupying right now was used as security for the loan he received.

After looking at the message severally, he decided to be nice to his daughter so she could accept to marry Brown, as that was his only way of getting all he needed from the billionaire man.

The message read thus;...

Dear Tate,

We write to inform you that your mortgage loan account number ****** with Barclays Bank plc is currently in default...

**************

All of these culminated to form a bomb ready to explode in Prince Tom's brain. His heart heaving as he walks, just like a living dead.

The clock was ticking slowly, the sounds of the seconds echoing in the spacious dining room. "So all I've ever struggled for would go down the drain?" Prince Tom asked himself. "Why wasn't I lucky enough to have a son?" He continued filling his empty mind with thoughts.

He arranged the dining setting and placed the prepared breakfast: a gracious cup of creamed coffee and three stooges of hamburgers that had gone through a litmus test in the oven.

Krrrrrr.....iing! The music from his ringtone always reminded him of all he was going through.

He picked up the phone as though it was too heavy for his hands. His hands shaking, it was Rosaline, the office secretary.

"Hello, Rosaline," his voice sounding bold and confident, a normal tone he used when talking to anyone from his office, a tone that reminded him of being the CEO of Flames and CO.

"Good morning, sir. Please, I want to inform you that..." a tiny voice replied, one that could describe the slim and astute nature of a beautiful dark-skinned lady in her early 30s.

"Go on... To inform me of what exactly?" Mr. T replied without hesitation.

"That Mr. Francis had brought the keys, he said he took them from your desk." Without allowing Mr. T to reply, she added, "Also, there's a man here, he says he wants to see you."

By now, Mr. Tate's brain, a track for racing memories, began to think of who the person should be...

"Okay, and who did he say he was?" He replied, now slower than he did at first.

"He introduced himself as Mr. Brown," Rosaline replied.

"Oh my goodness, please lead him to the VIP waiting room. I'll be there to see him in a jiffy..." Mr. Tate replied as though a heavier hand was assisting him to lift the weight that was pressed on his shoulders.

Turning to his daughter, Roselvett, he saw only a pawn in his game with Brown, a billionaire whose financial assistance came with a steep price: Roselvett's hand in marriage.

******

Before now, Prince Tom had asked Brown for financial assistance, one that would wipe off his bad credit record and bring back the dynasty of his company.

But all Brown required in exchange was to have his daughter's hand in marriage. Not as an aftermath of love but to satisfy his luscious lust with a taste of an elegant curvy woman, such as Miss. Roselvett was.

"Who was that, Dad?" Roosevelt asked. "There are several things you keep away from me, despite the fact that I'm a grown lady, and I deserve to know everything about you, Dad. Don't you think so?"

He turned as though he was ready for a lengthy conversation, but all he said was... "I will tell you about all of it when you agree to marry Brown!"

As though that reply went to the bad fling of Roselvett's brain, her facial expression began to change. But she had no option but to carry her tray of coffee and hamburger to her room.

She walked quickly up the stairs, as though she was trying to escape from the mention of that name, as though she was escaping from her father's continuous nagging words.

"I expect you to be mature enough like you claim and understand that your father thinks of the very best for you and nothing else," Mr. Tate replied. His face showed how disappointed he was about his daughter's stubbornness.

An hour later, Mr. Tate appeared back in the living room, wearing a costly blue Casila suit, which matched his white shirt and an elegant pointed cover shoe, the shiny tip, a reminder of the class and standard he maintained before things changed.

He was to meet with a billionaire and needed to wear a costly outlook. One that would make Brown feel he was still a First-class