Lycan king's substitute breeder

Chapter forty nine

Vivian

I could see that Laura was seething with anger. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "I'm not interested in talking to you," she said, her voice tight with tension. "Leave, or I'll call security."

"No," I said, my voice trembling with emotion. "I'm not leaving until we talk. I've waited too long to let you brush me off."

"I don't have anything to say to you," she snapped.

"Besides, you said you wanted to talk to me. We will do just that," I said.

"Is this supposed to be a joke or what?" Laura snapped. "Get out of my room while I'm being nice."

I fixed my gaze on her. "The woman in the photo. She looks so much like me. Who is she? Is she a relative?" I asked. I saw the way her expression changed, and I knew that I had hit a nerve.

Isabella appeared in the doorway, her brow furrowed as she folded her arms across her chest. "I think you should leave," she said, her tone stern. "Can't you see that she doesn't want to talk to you?"

"Isabella, please, it's none of your business," I snarled, but she remained unmoved.

"Leave her alone," Laura said quietly, pulling Isabella to her side. She turned to me, a steely look in her eyes.

"Are you sure you want to know?" she asked, her tone still cool and measured.

I hesitated, feeling the tension in the room. My stomach twisted into a knot. "Yes," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Laura stepped closer to me, her expression unreadable. "You said your mother was who again..." she trailed off, looking down at the photo in her hand. Then, she lifted her gaze to meet mine.

"Can you clarify what you mean?" I asked, furrowing my brow in confusion.

"It's a simple question," she said, her tone growing impatient.

"Sure, I can show you," I said, a bit annoyed by her impatience. I pointed at the woman in the photo, but as I did, I noticed something strange about her expression. She wasn't just smirking. It was more like a knowing smirk. As if she was reveling in my confusion.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This woman is your foster parent," she said.

"My foster parent? How? I don't understand. I know that this woman is my mother. I also remember my father as well, as he was the husband of my mother. I lost them both at the age of nine due to a serious illness," I explained, trying to make her understand so that I wouldn't have to hear all the gibberish she was uttering.

"You heard what I said, young woman. This lady is just your foster mother," she said.

"Don't say that!" I snapped. "Please…" I added, with a weak voice.

"I have nothing else to say to you. If you don't want to believe it, then forget about it. I'm not concerned about the matter," she said and turned.

"Wait, please," I muttered.

Laura sighed and turned to me. "What is it? Because I have nothing else to say to you." There was a smirk on her face as she spoke.

I stared at her, my mind reeling with questions. How could this woman possibly be my foster parent? And why did she seem to take delight in my confusion? She was clearly up to something, but I couldn't quite figure out what.

"How is that possible?" I pressed. "I've never been in foster care."

"This woman is your real mother," she whispered, pointing at a part in the photograph. This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

I slowly took my eyes down and saw that she was pointing at the smiling woman in between her and my so-called mother.

"But how…" I whispered, my voice breaking.

"You know I'm not lying, right? Look how obvious it is. Indeed, you are a carbon copy of your mother. Why didn't I notice this in the first place?" she scoffed.

"How did this happen? How?" I questioned, as tears started streaming down my face. I couldn't hold it in anymore, I was bitter and hurt.

Laura was about to talk when I quickly interrupted. "I'm sorry, but can you ask Isabella to leave? I want to speak with you privately," I said.

"I'm going nowhere," Isabella hissed angrily.

"No, it's fine. You can go, and please stay far away. It seems Vivian here wants this to be just between us. I don't want you hearing all I have to tell her," Laura said.

"But…"

"Just go, Isabella. Like I mentioned earlier, move far away from this place. You can leave the lobby if you must," Laura said.

Isabella sighed and left the room without sparing a glance.

"We can talk now. She's gone," I said.

"Sure," she replied with a smirk on her face.

"Explain everything. What do you mean by this woman is my real mother while the woman I know to be my biological mother isn't? Are you telling me my father is also my foster parent?" I asked.

"You ask too many questions for a young lady," she said, sitting down slowly on the sofa.

"Just answer me," I seethed, trying my best to stay calm.

"Your biological mother, your foster mother, and I used to be best friends. I got married first and gave birth to Oregon, which caused our friendship bond to shake just a little," she said with a

somber look on her face. "Many years later, your mother also married. She was happy with her family. Afterwards, she became pregnant and eventually had you… Then, they died when you were two months old. I looked for our other friend and saw she was also married, but she was barren. She took it upon herself to raise you and made you her daughter. It's sad she died with her husband."

I swallowed hard as tears ran down my face. "My real parents… How did they die?"

"Excuse me?" she scoffed.

"How did my parents die? What happened to them exactly?" I asked, with a shaky voice.

"I don't know anything about that, Vivian. Anyway, you have overstayed your welcome. I think you should leave now," she said, pointing a finger at the door.