Homecoming of the Guardian Father

Chapter two:- HUMILIATING YOUR DAUGHTER AT FIRST MEETING IS CRAZY!

The Clayton family was one of the elite families of Moone City.

When Robert Orwell was just seven years old, his family who lived as simpletons had been attacked and assassinated. It was the Crayton family’s patriarch who took him in and betrothed him to his fourth granddaughter, Belinda Clayton.

Him and Belinda grew up together in the Clayton family as best friends and when they were both 18, the patriarch married them.

The whole Briston city was against it, in fact they rebelled and this was why the wedding was done secretly in the bedroom with a priest.

Belinda was seen as the beautiful lotus of the city. Both old men and young sought for her hand in marriage when her face had gone public at just 5 years old. She would have definitely married a rich man when she came of age.

But the heart of the rich is as deep as the ocean.

The patriarch didn’t want his most beautiful prized granddaughter to get married to a man who he couldn’t control.

Robert, who had owed his life to the patriarch, was the perfect pawn-husband for Belinda in the old man’s eyes.

However, Robert after marriage wanted to be a man and make decisions on his own. He had endured being pushed over by the old man until he no longer wanted to be.

His big offense was that, Robert Orwell at 19, after marriage, had said he wanted to study law.

This profession—Lawyer—was one the Clayton family could not afford to have in the house because their hands weren’t clean.

Robert had stubbornly written an exam to get into college to study law and he aced it, but before he could step his foot on that college ground, his wife and her parents were murdered with him being the prime suspect!

Today was their death memorial ceremony and he chose today to make an appearance after twenty years.

As for whether he was in prison or not, Robert didn’t spend more than a week in prison. His uncle, who turned out to be his mother’s brother, had come for him.

Robert Orwell walked to the Clayton Family household entrance and stood beside his daughter.

Winter Robin Orwell was supposed to be her name.

Robert saw that his daughter had grown into an exceptionally beautiful woman. Even though she wasn’t the daughter of his late wife, she looked just as beautiful as her.

Robert remembered how someone in the Clayton family had set him up with a strange woman who he had slept with and gotten her pregnant. Their plan was to cause a rift between him and Belinda, his wife. And make him lose face publicly.

But Belinda was an outstanding woman even at that age 18. She handled the situation well, lying to the world that she had a problematic womb so she had brought a woman for her husband so they could have a child.

Robert didn’t even know who that strange woman was because Belinda had gone to pay her off as a surrogate and took the child—Winter—when she was born. She named Winter as hers and made the whole Clayton family swear to treat Winter as her real child.

Robert Orwell smiled calmly at the memory of it.

Winter shot the strange man beside her a glance and frowned. “You… you shouldn’t be here. This household does not have even the slightest respect for people of lower class.”

“Really?”

Winter nodded.

She noticed the incense pack on Robert’s hand and felt touched. “Are you a friend of my mother?”

Robert raised a brow. “Your mother?”

“Yes. Belinda Clayton, the woman whose memorial is being hosted today. She was my mother and I was her daughter, even though the world doesn’t agree so.”

Robert could see deep hurt in his daughter’s eyes.

Winter wasn’t just hurt because the whole city and even those who are supposed to be her family, never failed to remind her that she is a daughter of a “whore” and not the daughter of the noble lotus—Belinda Clayton. She was also hurt because, today this strange man who she thinks is Belinda’s friend had come to the memorial but her own father didn’t.

She had longed for him since she grew to understand that her father could never kill anyone.

"Just make sure you stay by the corner where you can’t be seen and keep quiet so they don’t notice you and humiliate you," Winter warned him sincerely.

Robert Orwell smiled and nodded, happy about the concern.

As they walked together into the vast living room, nearly all the far and near relatives of the Clayton family, friends of the family, and friends of friends had already arrived, creating a lively atmosphere.

"Look who’s here at the latest hour!"

"She calls herself a daughter but she wasn’t here to bow to the pictures!"

"But at least she brought a gift. Right, Winter?"

The Clayton family members never missed any chance to downgrade her.

Especially Howard Clayton, her supposed uncle, Belinda’s old brother. He never missed a chance to rub it on her face that her father Robert Orwell was in jail.

In fact, while others were busy taunting poor Winter, only he had noticed the scruffy looking man by her side.

Those eyes… how could he not recognize them? Those stubborn eyes!

"Isn’t this Robert Orwell," Howard Clayton announced.

His eyes shone in surprise before realizing today was the day Robert was supposed to be released from prison.

“It is indeed you, Robert Orwell,” he said further, a wide, cunning smile playing on his face. He turned to look at his niece. “Is this your gift for your late mother’s death memorial? Wow.”

His eyes fell on the pack in Robert’s hand. “Oh look. My niece’s gift also brought a gift with him. Don't tell me that's a gift for your dead wife’s and in-law’s memorial? Some cheap incense."

"It is an incense, yes," Robert agreed with a blank face.

The crowd suddenly roared in laughter.

But Winter’s expression remained frozen since the moment Howard identified this man—her father!

She couldn't believe it; her father had come after all and she had no idea he was her father.

"You can’t be serious, Robert Orwell. We are all here for three persons but all you could bring as a gift is cheap incense?" Howard pointed to the long table where the black and white pictures of the three dead persons were positioned. It was filled with costly flowers and send-off snacks and gifts.

One flower especially stood out from the other.

"Do you see that flower standing out there? It is a ghost rose worth $450,000 for just a petal and I got three of it with four to five petals each," Howard showed off. “$7 million worth flowers… that is what you call a gift for a sister, an uncle and an aunt.”

"$7 million," Robert repeated.

“Yes, $7 million.” Howard scoffed and didn’t stop there. He continued to boast, "That amount would settle you for life. But to my family? It’s nothing."

Robert smiled but made sure not to open his mouth. He expected this upon his arrival.

The crowd meanwhile, gossiped and talked down on him and laughed, praising Howard for being a filial son and brother by getting such a costly gift.

This only gave Howard more guts to keep talking.

“It’s okay, I understand that you just came out of prison so, getting a good gift would be hard. But, didn’t you think that not showing up here looking like a beggar with no place to go would have been the best gift?” He mocked hatefully. “After all, you were the one who is the reason we are all gathered here today!”

Winter broke out of her shocked state at this point. This man was still her father after all and she believed he couldn’t kill his wife. At least, without a cause.

"Uncle, that's enough. You’ve really worked hard to get that $7 million and I praise you for that, but you shouldn’t bring up our private family affairs outside," Winter stood up for him.

Robert looked at his daughter with surprise and wonder. He didn’t expect her to stand by him when everyone called him murderer.

"Private family affairs?" Howard let out a cold laugh, "Little niece, you really think the world doesn’t know the things I say? Besides you have no say in this house, did you forget?"

Winter clenched her fists in anger.

True to it, she had no say. In fact, she didn’t stay and live with the Clayton’s in this house of theirs. She wasn’t welcome to.

She lived with her birth mother’s parents and the support she got from the Clayton’s was merely the salary she receives from working in the Family’s company. And even that money wasn’t good enough.

She only came here when a family meeting or ceremony was taking place, to keep the facade that they are good people—still taking care of a girl that isn’t even their own blood.

Meanwhile, Robert couldn’t stand and watch his daughter get talked down to. He walked towards the table and touched the petals of the ghost rose.

"Get your hands off what you can’t afford!" Howard snapped.

Robert calmly replied, "Ghost roses are very rare flowers and cannot be found in the whole of this country except at the boundary line between our country and the ocean. I’m afraid even $7 million is a bit too cheap to get one talk more of three ghost roses."

Robert sniffed the flower and frowned. “You may think of me as an idiot and a fool, it’s okay. But you, you should be smarter to know that this is not a ghost rose but a make-believe. In essence, it’s fake.”

The entire villa went silent.

Every word that came out of Robert’s mouth dropped like a bombshell.

"Just shut up and how dare you indirectly call me a fool! What do you know about anything?" Howard attacked.

Robert could read the panic written all over his face and tone.

"Correct me if I’m wrong when I say, the scent of ghost rose has been said to be so strong it can waft out from a house and be perceived by the next neighbor," Robert said, smiling calmly.

“But this one you bought for $7 million? I had to bend over and stick my nose to it to perceive it. Still, it was a faint smell of carnation I perceived. Did you really get cheated by the seller or did you buy it to cheat the dead, knowing it was fake?”

Howard began to panic inside. He looked around, feeling uneasy.

Robert was right. He had made an artist turn a fine white carnation flower worth just $700 to look like the legendary ghost rose and took out only three from the bouquet of fakes to make it seem real.

He hadn’t expected Robert to know anything about flowers. Because his relatives knew nothing about things like this.

He couldn’t bear to lose face!

"What does an ex-convict know about flowers and the ghost rose?" Howard tried to kick where it hurt.

Meanwhile, his relatives were naive people. They’d rather believe a lie told by family than believe the truth said by one they despised so much.

"Winter, did you bring this man back here to disgrace us in front of guests? Shut him up already."

"Exactly! He should just shut up and mind his daughter. What does he know about luxuries?"

"He is busy making brother Howard lose face. Hmph! Like we’d ever believe a man who had no access to the outside world for over a decade."

Another wave of roaring laughter filled the room, each sound more grating than the last.

Robert didn’t bother to argue.

In his last eight years of life before now, he had joined the military after being thrown out by his uncle. He fought in a war recently and their camp was mounted at the boundary line where real ghost roses were surplus.

"What is so funny about a death memorial?"

An aged voice suddenly cut through the laughter as the patriarch of the Clayton family came down the stairs.

The place suddenly went silent.

Robert smiled, fisting his arms as the man he remembered from twenty years ago approached.

"I was told my ‘filial’ great grand daughter brought a living gift home," the old man cooed.

Winter’s heart began to beat so loud. She hoped she wouldn’t be in trouble for unknowingly bringing her father in. She couldn’t afford to offend the patriarch who tolerated no nonsense!

Howard stepped forward, "You heard right, Grandfather. In fact, this living gift of hers brought a cheap gift only to mock my own luxurious gift of a ghost rose."

The old man raised a brow and looked straight at Robert. He tried to read Robert’s eyes but it gave nothing away. “Is that so?”

He then turned to the ghost rose. He didn’t even need to walk towards it, he frowned at the sight of it.

Howard swallowed, scared of his grandfather even at such an age. Grandfather was just so wise and seems to know everything. If he reveal the flower to be fake, the whole world would lose trust in Howard.

Winter stole a glance at Robert, thinking of how he had spoken so knowledgeably just now. If great grandfather praised him today and acknowledged that the flower was indeed fake, perhaps she would get the chance to ask for that favor she wanted to ask him of.

But the old man quickly reduced her expectations to zero.

"That is the real ghost rose. Why would a man of no knowledge on things like this call it a fake?" The patriarch glared straight into the eyes of Robert.

Robert fisted, feeling wronged but still kept a blank face.

The sly old man was definitely covering up for his grandson. It was obvious to Robert that from first glance the old man had noticed that the flower wasn’t a ghost rose at all.

That sly old man would rather eat shit served by his own, while pretending it was good food than eat the food of an outsider!

“You!” Winter suddenly yelled at Robert, pointing a finger at him. "I was doing just fine with hiding in the shadows but why did you have to give me high hopes, make me the center of attraction, only to humiliate me in front of everyone today?"

Robert clenched his fists tightly. His heart bled seeing tears well up in his daughter’s eyes.

All she has suffered all these years, the grievances, it was all because of him.

Winter had suffered insults and humiliations, this he was aware of because he watched her from the shadows. He had come back to make things better for her but today…

Robert turned to Howard, hanging his head low.

"I'm sorry for accusing you of gifting a fake ghost rose," He said, his voice low.

No one asked him to apologize, but if this would make the situation better so his daughter feels less humiliated, he didn’t mind apologizing a thousand times.

But Winter only felt more humiliated. She wished she had even talked to him at the entrance today.

"What good is your apology now?," she said sharply.

Howard smirked. This was a double kill with a stone he didn’t even throw. Robert Orwell threw the stone himself and now that stone had turned around to hit him and his daughter, the two outsiders in the family!