Emily POV
She rolls her eyes and passes me, moves even closer with what little physical space there was between us, and placing her hand on my forearm she insists again.
"Did you have strange fetishes? Did your parents want to kill you in some kind of satanic ritual to keep their wealth? Were you unfaithful?" He bombards as if my expression wasn't sending him a hundred warning signals about the immense urge to push him that was growing rapidly inside me, like an intense flame: "Come on Emily, I'm your sister just reply."
"It just didn't work out Darla."
Brevity and effective responses were not her things. So dissatisfied, she continues her attack.
"How can things not work out with a millionaire man carved by the gods? Are you crazy?" she squeezes my forearm and mutters with more anger than I could feel: "If I had been in your position, I would put up with the worst of it. You were going to make us rich!"
"Darla that's enough" Dad hears her and sends her away from me.