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Chapter_12
Chapter 12
The Real and Fake Mrs. Murphy
The words “Mrs. Murphy” hit me like a lightning strike, and a surge of rage bubbled inside me. How dare she flaunt herself as someone she wasn’t? I turned to see who was behind me, expecting Ivanna, and prepared myself to confront her.
But to my surprise, it wasn’t Ivanna—it was Melanie.
Dressed in an eye-catching, vibrant outfit, Melanie’s blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves. Her makeup was expertly done, adding an alluring touch to her otherwise plain features.
She walked toward me with grace, a composed smile on her lips. But as soon as she noticed me, her face froze in shock. Her eyes widened, unable to process my unexpected presence.
I couldn’t help but smirk. I had to admit, in her glamorous outfit, Melanie looked far more like Mrs. Murphy than I did, standing here in my casual home clothes. Attire truly did make a difference in how people were perceived. I was no longer the sophisticated wife—I looked like a nanny.
Was this the Mrs. Murphy the receptionist had referred to? If so, Melanie had been indulged to the point of reckless arrogance. But the receptionist didn’t seem to notice my reaction. She was too focused on Melanie.
With a polite smile, the receptionist tried to regain her composure. “Mrs. Murphy, please—”
“Wait!” I cut her off, locking eyes with Melanie. I then turned back to the receptionist. “Which Mrs. Murphy are you referring to?”
The receptionist blinked in mild surprise, but her eyes held a touch of disdain. With a tone dripping with superiority, she replied, “This is Mr. Matthew Murphy’s wife. He’s the president of Tanum Corporation, located on the tenth floor.”
I couldn’t suppress a laugh. It felt oddly satisfying, even cathartic, to hear those words. While Melanie’s attitude was revolting, this moment—the absurdity of the situation—allowed me to release the frustration I’d been holding in for far too long.
Melanie, my reckless sister-in-law, was clearly desperate to play the part of a wife. It was almost pitiful. I thought, for a moment, that she had completely lost her grip on reality.
I laughed aloud, drawing puzzled glances from a few bystanders. They clearly thought I was out of my mind, but I didn’t care.
I turned to Melanie once more, sizing her up, and had to admit, she managed to make herself look somewhat presentable in public for the first time.
“Mrs. Murphy, huh?” I chuckled again. “Well, well. Her surname’s Murphy, but I’m curious—who is she married to, exactly?”
I couldn’t hold back my amusement, and my laughter echoed through the lobby. The receptionist looked flustered, unsure of what to do.
Suppressing my laughter, I addressed her with a pointed smile. “A little professionalism wouldn’t hurt, young lady. Do your homework before you speak. Make sure you’re well-informed about people’s relationships so you don’t embarrass yourself—or inconvenience others.”
The receptionist’s professional mask slipped, her smile fading into a cold, unwelcoming expression. She blinked at me, clearly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Allow me to introduce her properly,” I said with a quiet, biting tone. “This is Matthew Murphy’s younger sister. Yes, his biological sister.”
The shock on Melanie’s face was priceless. The atmosphere around us shifted, and I could practically feel the tension building. I glanced around at the surprised onlookers, then turned toward the elevator.
Without another word, I strode confidently toward the doors, the weight of the moment settling into my bones. I glanced back at the stunned crowd, my voice cutting through the silence. “Open up!”
For the first time, I felt completely assertive, taking back control in a situation that had been suffocating me. And deep down, I cursed inwardly at the audacity of people like Melanie—who would go so far as to pretend to be someone they were not.