Chapter 1

**Natalie's POV**

It was Saturday evening. After I finished cooking dinner in the kitchen, I stepped into the dining room to serve it. But I saw my older sister, Amelia Jackson, had arrived.

I watched my husband, Franklin Howard, laugh so hard with Amelia in the living room. What pained me most was seeing how well he got along with her. Franklin had never laughed like this with me before, and here he was, laughing loudly with my elder sister.

Amelia Jackson is my half sister. We share the same father but different mothers. My mother was my father's mistress, and because I was the unwanted child, my family never liked me.

I have three older brothers—James, Asher, and Felix—all doting on Amelia. Amelia and I are the same age, but she is a month older, so that makes her my elder sister. We both have fair skin, but while she is tall, I am short and chubby.

Franklin is a billionaire in this part of the city where we live, and he never liked me, his wife. Our marriage was a mistake—one I should never have accepted.

Let me take you back three years ago. My father and Franklin's father were best friends. My father hosted a business party at home and invited many tycoons.

One thing led to another, and Franklin and I ended up caught in my room. I knew Amelia set us up, but no one believed me—not even Franklin. He thought I drugged him and lured him to my room so he would sleep with me. We were forced to become a couple to hide the embarrassment.

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

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

Many guests brought their adult children, but none of them spoke to me. I was twenty-two then, naive. With Franklin and me caught in a compromising position on the bed, we married while Amelia wept that Franklin should have been her husband.

Franklin didn't 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 graduated, Franklin wants to divorce me and marry her.

How shameless of a sister to date her younger sister's husband? Amelia is so shameless. Franklin is five years older than me. I am twenty-five now, so he is thirty.

I watched Franklin wear a white singlet that revealed his masculine abs—he loves to gym. He has fair skin, more handsome than any man I have seen. His skin glitters like the sun, and I see how Amelia drools over him.

Franklin is very tall. His arms are mascular, and so are his thighs. I don't even reach his chest. To tell you the truth, I am a shorty, though I have an hourglass shape. Franklin does not find me attractive at all.

"How was your studies, Amy?" I heard Franklin ask Amelia. He switched from calling her Amelia to Amy, her shortened name. Amelia blushed as she picked up the glass cup of red wine Franklin had refilled. I sat at the dining table, setting up our dinner.

We have no maid at home. Franklin mandated that I cannot work because I don't have a meaningful certificate. As the illegitimate child of my parents, I didn't further my education. My stepmother forced me to learn tailoring while Amelia went to university and became a certified accountant.

Franklin didn't even allow me to sew. He felt tailoring was a useless profession, like being a fashion designer. He calls me ugly and says I am not fashionable. He doesn't take me out to hang out with his friends, nor does he give me money for upkeep. I only get money when he gives me cash to restock the house with food. Only then do I manage to save some for my personal use.

"It was fine, Frankie," Amelia said. I hated how Amelia and my husband called each other pet names. This is my matrimonial home, and Franklin only calls me "Natalie!" In short, he shouts my name with so much rage, like he doesn't want to see me.

"Natalie! Is the dinner ready?" Franklin asked me, just as he settled across from Amelia on the next black couch in our exquisite living room.

I had finished preparing the delicious African delicacy of pounded yam and vegetable soup. I looked at the food I prepared, then at my husband and my half-sister.

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

"Hmm, no food for you both," I replied and covered the food I had already served. First, I didn't invite Amelia to my home. Neither will I serve her any food. She should get out and return to our father's house to find her own husband to call pet names with.

Franklin immediately rose from the couch and dashed up to me. "Where are you taking the tray of food? Have you lost your mind?" He slapped me as he approached and took the tray from my hand.

I looked at him irritably, then at Amelia, who smiled and rolled her eyes. I knew her target: she wanted to take my husband. She sent me a text message last month, telling me she would come back to collect everything she claimed I stole from her, 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 the meal? Did you work for the money? Move away and get me a bowl of water to wash my hands. Do not think I will apologize for the slap. Come, Amy, do not mind your sister. That's how silly she behaves." Franklin called for Amelia, and I watched her seductively stand up from the couch in her brown dress that made her look like a model.

The brown dress accentuated her hips and bosom. Amelia walked to the dining table, and I stood there watching as Franklin served her the delicious plate of pounded yam and vegetable soup I had suffered to cook.

I know Amelia is my sister, and I shouldn't feel jealous. But Franklin has never served me any food before, let alone the one I cooked myself.

Franklin also saw I didn't serve any bowl of water, so he went to the kitchen himself and brought a bowl for Amelia to wash her hands. He sat across from her, and she blushed, not caring to ask me to join them.

"Franklin!" I shouted and walked toward the plate of soup I had served for myself—the portion Franklin had given Amelia.

"What's wrong with you, Natalie? Should we leave this food for you to eat? Come, Amy, let's go out to get something more palatable to eat," Franklin said, standing up from the dining table. I hated it when I suffered to cook, and my husband went out of our matrimonial home to eat.

"Frank!" I tried to stop him, and he warned, "Stay away from me, Natalie. Just go and eat your food since you don't want your sister and me to eat it. Who knows if you poisoned it?"

"What?" I frowned as his words broke my heart. He quickly took the stairs in our living room and dashed upstairs to his bedroom. Yes, Franklin and I have separate bedrooms.

I looked back at Amelia and shouted, "You shameless slut! Aren't you ashamed to date your sister's husband? As beautiful as you are, you cannot use your beauty to find your own husband!" I cussed at Amelia, and she hissed.

"Get out of my house!" I was enraged. Remembering that Amelia and her brothers never liked me—they mostly maltreated me—I thought getting married would bring me my own happiness and family. Yet this same family that doesn't want my happiness won't let me be.

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