I Know Who I Am, Father-in-law.

Brave Elvis spoke back

Elvis, standing before Brie, stood there in confusion. He was trying to get what was going on when another slap landed on the same side of his face.

The new hit was heavier than the first, and just when he was trying to get over the sting from the first and second slaps, another one landed on his face.

This time, he couldn't stand still. He staggered to the back and subconsciously stepped on a broken glass on the floor. At that moment, he would have felt so much pain, but his shoes protected his legs.

The impact of the slap on him was still very heavy. His face had gone red, and the spot that chested the three slaps was bloody red.

His eyes were blinded. It was as if blood had mistakenly rushed into his brain as he couldn't even think of anything but to dwell on the pain.

Tears wet his cheeks in seconds and Elvis asked Brie tearfully, "What did I do to you to deserve this? I never crossed your way."

Brie flung her hands in the air, and shouted aloud, "You don't know what you did? You don't know I went late to the meeting because I fought with my husband because of you."

Elvis couldn't get it even with her screams, and Brie also didn't look like one who would calm down to enlighten Elvis about what he did wrong.

That morning, Brie had dressed up to go for her meeting, but with Camila's sudden request for her car, she was a little delayed.

Evans told her to give the keys to Camila, but she was not willing. So, Evans snatched the key from her, giving it to Camila.

From the time when Evans got married to Brie, Camila had never got along with her, and neither was she close to Mia. She also often takes advantage of her brother's love for her to treat her sister-in-law unjustly.

So, there was beef between Camila and Brie before the car thing happened.

When Brie returned from her disastrous meeting, her heart crumbled with disappointment, and she realized that Elvis was the cause of everything.

"I don't get you, Mrs. I don't know why that was my deal. I've never spoken about you to anyone, not to Camila, not to Evans."

Brie took a ragged breath to calm down to be able to say, "Why didn't you wash Camila's car?"

"Don't you know that you have to take care of your wife and wash everything she wants you to wash, even her underwear if possible?"

"But there are maids and guards around here. I'm just like you here, married and trapped in this hole we call home."

"Don't compare yourself with me."

"I married my husband with my full memory, but you..." Brie laughed, "You married that girl without one." She was trying to hit Elvis with her words.

"Doesn't that make me better than you? At least, I was senseless when I married her, but you?"

"You got married to Evans without being blindfolded or brainwashed, and still, I can see you made a great choice." Elvis fired back at her.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. Normally, he was not supposed to talk back to anyone in the family, but right now, he fails to care about anything.

If he could talk to everyone to their senses so that he could feel the type of home he deserves, then he could try.

"When you love being here so much, why then are you yelling out your veins over spilled milk? The milk is not even thick enough to be thought about," he added.

Brie noticed Elvis's sarcasm. Even when she knew the point he was driving at, she would never let him win.

"Are you saying all this to justify your slack? You have duties but fail to do them. Who does that?"

"I think I can make decisions for myself as well. This is my home, and if anyone comes hitting me, trying to chase me out, I will hit right back."

Brie's mouth dropped. She was marveling. She had never thought that Elvis would be that brave to talk back to her. Where does the boldness come from? Who taught him?

She was speechless.

Elvis had nothing else to say. He turned back and walked away, carefully stepping out of the broken glasses.

He returned to his room and was able to let out the breath he hung around his throat.

"What have I done?"

"What was I thinking?"

"Oh, God! She'll kill me."

"Wait. She can't kill me, right?"

Elvis palmed his face before the mirror and muttered to himself, peaking at his reflection, "If she tells Evans or Mr Moore about this, then I'm in no doubt in big trouble."

He dropped his hands and, with his gaze still fixed on his reflection, he made rules for himself. Short and simple.

"Stay away from Brie and Camila, and maybe Mia too. In short, stay away from all the females in the family; you can still deal with the males."

Elvis went to the bathroom for a shower. There, he saw the shaving equipment he found the first time he was brought to the room.

This time, unlike the first time, he was brave; he shaved off every single hair on his face, leaving out just the lashes and brows.

He also cut his long hair in its tips to keep everything rhyming with each other. Then, he washed his hair and bathed.

Right now, he looked so much like Vince Klein, whom everyone knew, just that Vince didn't like long hair, he preferred it short, but Elvis does.

Elvis was supposed to go and do the chores immediately after bathing, but he didn't. He had a lot of things to do. He had notes to copy, and assignments to answer.

He also didn't think about eating, for he knew that there was no food for him in the house. He was not bothered about it; he was beginning to get used to it.

He took the cold water from the bathroom in a nylon and began to use it to ease the sting from the slap as he did his schoolwork.

When he was done with his school work, he read from his texts, so that he could catch up with the other students. He dozed off while studying.

The next day, Elvis woke up due to a bang on his reading desk. The sharp metallic sound had crept into his sleep, jolting him up.

"Are you tired of your stay here?" Evans asked Elvis. He was the person who banged the desk.

"Evans!"

"You did not do any of your chores last night."

Elvis released a savage sigh. He then got up from his seat and began to pack his books before answering Evans. "I noticed that doing the chores makes no difference. You just want to punish me unnecessarily."

"Hold on, do you just talk back at me?" Evans asked in disbelief.

Elvis turned to him, "Last time you asked me to wash your clothes, I did, only to realize that you don't wear clothes twice. Do you know how swollen my hands were? I was unable to do any writing in school."

Evans was not listening to everything Elvis was complaining about. He was still in disbelief. "He talks back at me."

"I'm sorry, but I can't allow myself to suffer more when nobody cares."

"Oh!"

"Speaking of someone caring, my father wants to see you." Evans turned toward the door and walked away.

Elvis followed him slowly.

'Has Brie reported me to my father-in-law?' His heart pounded in his ribcage as he dragged his legs on and on.

Jordan Moore was with Edward in the sitting room. He was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed on each other and a newspaper in his hands.

Evans got to them, "Father, you won't believe that this ungrateful soul talked back at me."

"Really?" Edward asked him, with his gaze drifting towards Elvis.

"Yes, he did."

"Wow. Brave." Edward laughed mockingly.

"Why the laugh? Do you think I'm kidding?"

"No, not at all."

Evans noticed that Jordan had said nothing about it, so he asked him, "You said nothing, father."

"Are you siding with the imposer now?"

Jordan closed the newspaper. "You didn't expect me to interfere in that when you were not a child like Camila, did you?"

Evans's forehead squeezed up and his jaw clenched. He folded his hands together and fell on a sofa close to Edward, silently.

Jordan dropped his newspaper on the table to face Elvis squarely, "Where were you yesterday after school?"

"Nowhere. I came home."

"Where were you before you came home?"

Elvis realized where he was driving, but something in his mind was holding the truth in his throat. He felt like Jordan didn't have to know everything about him.

He opened his mouth to talk, but no word came out of it, so he gently closed it back.

"What?"

"Didn't I tell you that I have my guards' eyes on you?"

"Where was he, father?" Edward asked Jordan, and he got snapped at.

"Shut up, Ed! I'm not talking to you."

"Sorry." Edward apologized and shut up.

"When I was coming home, a car pulled over, and they dragged me in," Elvis confessed.

"Where were you taken to?"

"A deserted area."

"And?"

"And, nothing. I was let go after minutes, and I went home."

Jordan had his eyes fixed on Elvis. He couldn't tell if he was lying or speaking the truth, and his guards didn't follow the car.

He was questioning Elvis because his guards told him that the car looked so much like one from the Klein family. He knew if it were to be Klein, his downfall would be near.

"Are you sure about what you're saying?"

"Yes. But why didn't your guards save me when I was being bundled with my friend? What if I was killed?"

Evans chuckled, "The daddy's boy still thinks daddy cares about him."

"Shut up, Evans, or I will send your sorry self to the desert for a week," Jordan warned him.

Evans grumpily shut up.

Jordan focused on Elvis again, "Your friend. Who is he? What family did he come from?"

"His name is Sammy. I think he is from the Klein family. His mum said it when she was registering for us for school."

"Klein?"

"Yes, Klein."

"Now, let me tell you this: stay away from him, or you will be sorry."

"But he's not bad. He helped me with my notes and used his card to treat me."

"Bad people don't write it on their foreheads that they are bad. For example, me. Do I write it on my forehead that I am good? No."

"I'm sorry, father-in-law, but I can't stay away from Sammy."

"Okay, if you can't stay away from him, then stay away from any other person who calls himself Klein or is related to Klein."

"Okay, I will."

"Don't think of me as being strict, everything I'm doing for you is for your good. Trust me."

"I know, thank you."

"You may return to your room."

Elvis left with a heart bubbling with joy. "He really cares about me."

Edward watched Elvis walking away, then he asked Jordan, "Are you sure he will listen to you, father?"

"If he does, it will be better for everyone, but if he doesn't, then I won't be blamed for my next action."

"Hey, I don't get what you are both talking about," Evans said to them.

"Go and have a baby first with your wife, then you'll get it. If I have a baby first, then I'll be the master in line." Edward stood up and walked away.

"What's he talking about, father?"

"I have a meeting to attend." He stood up as well, "Tell Camila to stop messing around with that Harry boy so that she won't be hurt when his downfall comes." He walked away.

Evans slumped on the sofa, "Great! I'm the only one left in the dark. Just great."

Elvis was dressing for school in the afternoon when he saw the Automatic Teller Machine card given to him by his father. He stared at it and remembered Jordan's strict warning to him about staying away from Klein.

Who is lying? Who is protecting me? Jordan Moore or Bernard Klein. Where is home? Elvis wondered.

He didn't know who to believe anymore.

Jordan Moore seemed to be genuine, and so did Bernard Klein. Both seemed to be protecting him from each other when he was entangled in both families.

He didn't know what to do.

He stared at the card and a thought ran through his mind. "Should I run away with this money? It can sustain me for months, right?"

But could he, when he had two groups of guards keeping their eyes on him?