Chapter 1

**Natalie's POV**

At 6 p.m. on Saturday evening, I finished cooking dinner and stepped into the dining room to serve it. However, I found my older sister, Amelia Jackson, had arrived.

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

What pained me most was seeing how easily he got along with her.

Franklin had never laughed like this with me before, yet here he was, laughing happily with my older sister.

Amelia 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 disliked me.

I had three older brothers—James, Asher, and Felix—all of whom doted on Amelia.

Although Amelia and I were nearly the same age, with her being only a month older, she was still technically my elder sister.

We were both fair-skinned, but while she was tall, I was short and chubby.

Franklin was a billionaire in our city, and he had never liked me—his own wife.

Our marriage was a mistake, one I should never have accepted.

Let me take you back three years. My father and Franklin's father were best friends. While my father hosted a business party at home, he invited many prominent businessmen.

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

I knew Amelia had set us up, but no one believed me—not even Franklin. He insisted that I had drugged him and lured him to my room to sleep with him.

We were forced into a relationship to hide the embarrassment, as Franklin's family was also devastated. Everyone knew I was my father's illegitimate daughter, and they wondered why he hadn't cast me out instead and allowed Amelia to marry Franklin.

After my wedding, I discovered that Amelia had harbored a hidden crush on Franklin. She regretted drugging my drink—the same drink I had given Franklin when he came to speak with me that night.

Many guests had brought their adult children, but none of them spoke to me.

I was only 22 then—naive and caught in a compromising position on the bed with Franklin. We married while Amelia wept, claiming Franklin was supposed to be her husband.

Franklin did not like me. After that night, we never slept together, and I never conceived. Even though it was my first time.

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

How shameless of my sister to want to date her younger sister's husband.

Amelia is utterly shameless. Franklin is five years older than me. At 25, I am younger than him at 30.

I watched Franklin in his white singlet that revealed his muscular abs—he loved to gym. He was fair-skinned and more handsome than any other man I had seen.

His skin gleamed in the light, and I could see the way Amelia was fawning over him.

Franklin was very tall, with large arms and thighs. I barely reached his chest; I am, admittedly, short. Although, I do have an hourglass figure.

Franklin found me unattractive in every way.

"How were your studies, Amy?" I heard Franklin ask Amelia. He had stopped calling her Amelia and switched to Amy as a pet name.

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

We had no maid because Franklin had mandated that I should not work since I had no meaningful qualifications.

As the illegitimate child of my parents, I never pursued higher education. My stepmother forced me to learn tailoring while Amelia went to university and became a certified accountant.

I wasn't even allowed to sew. Franklin felt it was a useless profession compared to becoming a fashion designer.

He calls me ugly and says I am not fashionable.

He refuses to take me out with his friends or give me money for my personal expenses.

I managed to save money only when he gave me money to restock the house with food. Only then could I set aside a little for myself.

"It was fine, Franklin," I heard Amelia reply. I hated that my husband and she were calling each other pet names.

This was my matrimonial home, and Franklin only called me "Natalie!"—and even then, he shouted my name with such rage, as if he despised seeing me.

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

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

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

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

"No food for either of you," I replied and covered the food I had already served.

I had not invited Amelia to my home, nor would I serve her. 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 rushed toward me.

"Where are you taking the tray? Have you lost your mind?" Franklin slapped me as he approached and took the tray from my hand.

I glanced at him irritably, then at Amelia, who smiled and rolled her eyes. I knew her target: she wanted my husband.

She had sent me a text message the previous month, telling me she was coming to reclaim everything I had stolen from her, including my husband.

"Franklin, you hit me over this? I cooked this food, and you cannot eat it," I said.

"Why not? Did I not give you the money to prepare the meal? Did you work for the money? Move away and get me a bowl of water to wash my hands. Do not expect an apology for the slap. Come, Amy. Do not mind your sister. That is how silly she behaves," Franklin called to Amelia. I watched as she seductively stood up from the couch in her brown dress that made her look like a model, the fabric accentuating her hips and bosom.

Amelia walked to the dining table, and I stood watching as Franklin served her the delicious plate of pounded yam and vegetable soup that I had labored to cook.

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

Franklin also noticed I had not provided a bowl of water, so he went to the kitchen himself and brought one for Amelia to wash her hands.

He sat across from her, and she blushed, not bothering to ask me to join them.

"Franklin!" I shouted and walked toward the bowl of soup I had served for myself—the same portion Frank had taken to serve Amelia.

"What is wrong with you, Natalie? Should we leave this food for you? Come, Amy. Let's go out and get something more palatable," Franklin said, standing from the table. I hated it when I labored to cook only for my husband to leave our home to eat elsewhere.

"Franklin!" I tried to stop him, but he warned me.

"Stay away from me, Natalie. Just eat your food since you do not want your sister and me to eat it. Who knows if you have poisoned it?"

"What?" I gasped. His words broke my heart. Franklin quickly climbed the stairs to his bedroom in our duplex mansion.

Yes, Franklin and I slept in separate bedrooms. I looked back at Amelia and shouted, "You shameless woman! Are you not ashamed to be dating your sister's husband? As beautiful as you are, you cannot use that beauty to find your own husband?" I cursed at her, and she hissed in response.

"Get out of my house!" I was enraged. I had thought that by marrying, I would finally have my own happiness and family.

Yet this very family that resented me would not let me be at peace.

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