Chapter 2:Sisters At War

Lyra’s POV

Uncle Luciano wasn't just an old friend of my uncle, he was old enough to be my own father. I'd never marry someone like that. Not now, not ever. For the first time in forever, I raised my head and took my stand, knowing that this single decision might ruin my whole life,

“Getting married? Uncle Luciano is old enough to give birth to me.”

My uncle snapped his neck towards me, his eyes glaring daggers at me. His eyes sized me up, amusement swirling in them,

“I didn't just ask for your opinion, I'm stating a fact. You're going to get married to Luciano..” he paused for a while and cleared his throat, “To pay my debts. It's no big deal.”

“No big deal?” I threw my hands in the air, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “then let Meera get married to him, let her pay for your debts instead.” My voice trembled as the words flowed from my insides, and I knew deep down I was going to regret it, but I just couldn't stop. I knew Uncle Zorah hated me, I just hadn't expected him to despise me to this extent, shipping me off to his friend like some commodity. I never complained when he took my parent's life insurance, I ignored him when he spent my parents savings and spared nothing for me, and now he was planning to give me away?

“No!” I shook my head, my voice louder than I had imagined, “I'm not getting married to anyone!”

Meera's eyes widened, her fork slamming hard against her plate.

Uncle Zorah's jaw clenched, his face flushed with anger. He banged his fists on the table and rose up furiously,

“Lyra, you dared to raise your voice at me?” He growled, his iris flickering between its usual colour to a deeper shade. I swallowed hard and took a step backwards, but he yanked me forward, gripping my wrist with so much force, I feared that he would shatter my bones,

“I am your uncle!”

“I'm sorry.” He tightened his grip, increasing his pressure on my fragile wrist,

“Your sorry doesn't change anything.” His voice was calmer now, but I knew he was still trying to tame his wild beast from rearing its head. “Your sorry doesn't change the fact that you challenged me, Zorah Anderson, over breakfast. You know how important rules are, Lyra. Don't you know your worth here? You should be happy I found some use for your worthless life, your mere presence stirs my blood so hard, taking care of you for years is tortue.”

My heart sank.

My eyes grew wet, blurring my vision as my limbs tingled with fatigue. I knew he hated me, despised my existence, but watching him say those words to my face made me shut down mentally. I could literally feel nothing else. It was just numb, even my wrist stopped hurting. A tear slipped down my cheeks as my lips trembled, I opened up my mouth, wanting to yell at him too, curse at him for making my teenage years miserable, but it was going to change nothing.

I belonged to him.

I was his property. His slave. His toy. His daughter's play thing.

We stared at each other for a few more seconds, his eyes swirling with thousands of emotions. Hate. Anger. Disgust. Sometimes I wondered if he hated his brother—my father—just as much as he hated me. He released my hands and hardened his gaze, “I'll take your silence as you heeding to my words. Challenge me one more time and you feel my wrath.”

What more was there to feel? Getting whipped, starved?

I hadn't eaten for days, wasn't that much worse?

Uncle Zorah pushed me slightly before heading towards the elevator. I inhaled a shaky breath and stared at my feets, watching as drop after drop fell to the ground. Meera's soft laughter filled the space, she sounded satisfied, pleased, and for a minute, I felt the urge to drive her fork down her throat and watch her bleed to death. I'd laugh too, her death would satisfy me.

“That's what you get for crossing your boundary, Lyra. You should know the rules, my father isn't someone you can boss around.”

“I didn't try to boss him around.”

Meera raised her head, her red hair framing her heart shaped face. She was beautiful alright, derived pleasure in staring at the mirror all day long, I wondered how it would feel to scar her precious face. With the insane thoughts running through my head, I balled my hands into fists,

“I can't believe we're family members.”

“Family members?” Meera laughed out loud again, throwing her head back. She slowly turned to face me, a ridiculous and mocking smile plastered on her lips, “I know we're cousins, but don't let it get to your head. Your parents are dead, there's no use hiding how much I despise you.”

“Why?” I whimpered, close to breaking down, “Why do you hate me so much? We used to be good—”

“Don't mention the past, dummy.” Meera slammed her fork on her plate, spilling her coffee all over the table. She rolled her eyes and sucked in a breath, “Do you know how hard it was to pretend to love you? Everyone adored you, Lyra. You had the world wrapped around your fingers, your parents already built an empire for you.”

My throat tightened as another tear slipped down my cheeks, “You hated me all along?”

“You've always been better than me, I hate rivals.” Meera pushed her chair backwards, taking slow strides towards me, “And guess what? I'm inheriting your parent's empire. Everything that once belonged to you would be mine, and you know what else? You'd be able to do nothing about it.”

While she walked away, I reached for her wrist, clutching it hard,

“We’re sisters.” I said through gritted teeth, doing something I'd never done in years. I got on my knees and bit my lips to muffle my cry, “Help me this once. I can't get married to Luciano.”

“If making you happy would cost me my life, then I'd do it a thousand times.”