Billionaire's Broken Trust

Natalie's POV

It was Saturday evening. I finished cooking dinner in the kitchen and stepped out to the dining room to serve it. However, I saw my half-sister, Amelia Jackson, had arrived.

I watched my husband, Franklin Howard, laughing so hard with my sister in the living room.

What pained me most was seeing the way he got along with her.

Franklin had never laughed like this with me before, yet there he was, laughing happily with my sister in the living room.

Amelia Jackson was my half-sister. We shared the same father but had different mothers.

My mother was my father's mistress, and because I was the unwanted child, my family never liked me.

I had three older brothers—James, Asher, and Felix—all doting on Amelia.

Amelia and I were the same age, but she was only a month older than me, which made her my elder sister.

We were both fair in complexion, but while she was tall, I was short and chubby.

Franklin was a billionaire in this part of the city, and he never liked me, his wife.

Our marriage was a mistake I should never have accepted.

**

Rewind to three years ago: my father and Franklin's father were best friends. My father hosted a business party at home, inviting many tycoons.

One thing led to another, and Franklin and I were caught in my room.

I knew Amelia had orchestrated it, but no one believed me. Even Franklin refused to believe me. He insisted I had drugged him and lured him to my room to sleep with me.

Our parents forced us to become a couple to avoid scandal.

Franklin's family was equally disappointed. Everyone knew I was my father's illegitimate daughter, and they wondered why he had kept me instead of kicking me out and letting Amelia marry Franklin.

After my wedding to Franklin, I discovered Amelia had secretly crushed on him. She regretted drugging my drink—the very one I had served Franklin when he came to speak to me that fateful night.

Many attendees brought their adult children, but none approached me.

I was twenty-two then, naive. After they found Franklin and me in a compromising position on the bed, we married while Amelia wept that Franklin should have been her husband.

Franklin never liked me. After that night, we never slept together, and I never conceived. It was my first time.

We lived like neighbors who despised each other. Now that Amelia had graduated, Franklin wanted to divorce me to marry her.

How shameless could a sister be, wanting to date her younger sister's husband?

Amelia was utterly shameless. Franklin was five years older than me. At twenty-five then, he was thirty.

I watched Franklin wearing a white singlet that revealed his masculine abs—he loved the gym. His fair complexion made him more handsome than any man I had ever seen.

His skin glittered like the sun, and I noticed Amelia drooling over him.

Franklin was exceptionally tall. His arms were thick, and so were his thighs. I barely reached his chest—I was a shorty, though I had an hourglass figure. Franklin did not find me attractive in any way.

"How were your studies, Amy?" I heard Franklin ask Amelia. He had switched from calling her Amelia to Amy.

Amelia blushed as she picked up the glass cup of red wine Franklin had refilled while I sat at the dining table setting up our dinner.

We had no maid at home. Franklin had insisted I couldn't work since I lacked any meaningful certificate.

As the illegitimate child, I never furthered my education. My stepmother had forced me to learn tailoring while Amelia attended university and became a certified accountant.

Franklin wouldn't even let me sew. He deemed it a useless profession—becoming a fashion designer. He called me ugly and said I was not fashionable.

Franklin never took me to hang out with his friends. He gave me no money for upkeep.

I only managed to get money for personal use when he gave me funds to restock the house with foodstuffs. Only then did I save some for myself.

"It was fine, Frankie," Amelia said. I hated how she and my husband called each other pet names.

This was my matrimonial home, yet Franklin only called me, "Natalie!" He shouted my name with rage, as if he could not bear to see me.

"Natalie! Is dinner ready?" Franklin asked, settling across from Amelia on the black couch in our exquisite living room.

I had just finished preparing the delicious African delicacy of pounded yam and vegetable soup.

I looked at the food I had prepared, then at my husband and my half-sister.

"Natalie! I am talking to you!" Franklin shouted again.

"Hmm, no food for you both," I replied and covered the food I had already served.

I had not invited Amelia to my home, nor would I serve her any food. She should leave and return to our father's house to find her own husband to call pet names.

Franklin immediately rose from the couch and dashed toward me.

"Where are you taking that tray of food? Have you lost your mind?" Franklin slapped me as he approached and snatched the tray from my hands.

I glared at him irritably, while Amelia smiled and rolled her eyes. I knew her target—she wanted to take my husband.

She had sent me a text message the previous month, declaring she would return to reclaim everything she believed I had stolen, including my husband.

"Franklin, you slap me because of what? I cooked this food, and you cannot eat it," I said.

"Why? Did I not give you the money to prepare this meal? Did you work for it? Move away and bring me a bowl of water to wash my hands. Do not think I will apologize for that slap. Come, Amy, do not mind your sister. That is how silly she behaves." Franklin called out for Amelia, and I watched her seductively rise from the couch in her brown dress that made her look like a model—it accentuated her hips and bosom.

Amelia walked to the dining table while I stood watching Franklin serve her the delicious plate of pounded yam and vegetable soup I had suffered to cook.

I knew Amelia was my sister, and I should not have been jealous. But Franklin had never served me food before, let alone the meal I had cooked myself.

Franklin noticed I had not brought any bowl of water for hands washing, so he went to the kitchen himself and returned with a bowl for Amelia to wash her hands.

Franklin sat across from Amelia, who blushed, not bothering to invite me to join them.

"Franklin!" I shouted, walking toward the plate of soup I had served for myself—the same portion he had given Amelia.

"What is wrong with you, Natalie? Should we leave this food for you to eat? Come, Amy, let us go out for something more palatable." Franklin stood from the dining table. I hated when he left our matrimonial home to eat after I had suffered to cook.

"Franklin!" I tried to stop him, and he warned, "Stay away from me, Natalie. Go eat your food since you do not want your sister and me to eat it. Who knows if you poisoned it?"

"What?" I frowned, Franklin's words breaking my heart. He quickly took the stairs in our living room and dashed to his bedroom.

Franklin and I had separate bedrooms. I looked back at Amelia and shouted, "You shameless slut! Are you not ashamed to date your sister's husband? As beautiful as you are, can you not find your own husband?" I cursed at Amelia, and she hissed.

"Get out of my house!" Rage consumed me as I remembered how Amelia and my brothers had never liked me. They had maltreated me constantly. I had thought marriage would bring me happiness and my own family.

Yet this family that denied my happiness refused to let me be.

As I rushed to push Amelia out of the house, she fell and pretended to be hurt.