Mr. President: You Are The Daddy Of My Triplets

"If you dare utter another word, Angela," Aniya spat, "I swear I’ll beat you to a pulp. Alex is my real brother, you fu*cker!"

Everyone present in the room was standing still. It seemed like they had somehow forgotten how to breathe, how to speak.

"Wh... what’re you saying?" Ariel stuttered badly.

"Oh, cut the crap!" Angela threw her arms in the air and laughed loudly, "The same bullshit because she resembles Aunt Marissa."

Rafael and Marissa’s eyes were on Aniya. Marissa leaned into Rafael for support, and he was holding her, praying secretly that his legs wouldn’t give up on him.

"I remember everything..." Aniya sobbed, "My hospital visits... the way you all kept an eye on me so that I wouldn’t run around and fall sick..." She was now facing difficulty in breathing, so she sat down on the carpet and held the corner of the center table.

Angela was now looking at her condition, feeling frustrated, "Listen, Anaya," This time, her tone had turned soft, "We know you’re sick... but the problem is... everyone knows all these things you’re telling about Abigail Sinclair."

Aniya raised her tear-streaked face and eyed her parents, who had turned mute, "If that’s the case, then tell me, did you see Abigail’s dead body? Do you want to know who raised me? Valerie? Valerie James and Alaric James are my adoptive parents."

The name of Valerie made Marissa dangerously pale.