Chapter 2

Yesterday morning, I’d woken up with the man I loved, chatting about how excited we were for the wedding of our dreams. This morning, I woke up in a cheap hotel room with my eyes swollen from crying so much. There would be no wedding, no happy ending for me, no family I had dreamed of. I was left with practically nothing. No roof over my head, and who knew whether Andrew would have the decency to return my clothes. The only thing I had left was my job. One to which I have returned, locking myself in my cubicle to immerse myself in my work and crunch out numbers.

I worked for Fairmount Corporation, a fairly large real estate company dedicated to what all real estate companies do: buying and selling properties. And I, who had been a business administration graduate for almost three years, had been working there since then. The fact that I shared the same last name as the company was no coincidence.

Its owner was my father. Fairmount Corporation was a family business, one in which I earned my position, despite what my colleagues might say. It was obvious at this point that my dad hated me and wouldn't give me a single cent. He didn’t give me this job because I was his daughter.

He didn't care about me. Ever since I turned eighteen, he stopped giving me the mandatory child support money and even stopped speaking to me except for special circumstances. He wouldn’t let me into his house, nor would he respond to my Christmas greetings. The most exceptional first and last gift my dad had ever given me in his life was an internship at this company.

I started as an intern during my university years, then was promoted to temporary worker, and yesterday, I was finally promoted to permanent worker. I knew these years of struggle had paid off due to my efforts, even if others didn't think so and didn’t understand a value called empathy.

"Is it true she was dumped for her younger sister?" I heard from the other side of my cubicle.

"They say they're getting married on the same date," I heard another voice say.

"Poor thing. How did she manage to come to work today?" a third voice said with pity.

I bit the inside of my cheek, grabbed several folders from my desk, and got up from my chair. I had to get away from there, and that’s what I did. As I walked through the office, I felt the other workers' eyes following me. It was torturous, but I moved forward with my head held high and without shame.

I had done no wrong. I still had my job, to my great pride. This day would be better, and everything would fall into place.

"Marianne," Andrew's voice stopped me from behind, "I need you in the meeting room."

I turned to see that cheater giving me orders. In his immaculate, well-pressed suit, and with his clean-shaven face. I sensed how we were the center of attention and how I couldn’t refuse the man who would potentially become the majority shareholder of this company in a few weeks.

I entered the meeting room as he asked, after which he closed the door and lowered the blinds for more privacy. We were the morning show for the rest of the employees. I would swear one of them had to be peeking inside to see more of our reactions, how their reactions would range from stoicism to disgust.

"What do you want? Be quick," I cut him off sharply.

He was surprised by my reaction, but put his hands in his pants pockets, and stood up straight.

"Where did you spend the night? Where did you get that dress if I have all your clothes at my apartment?"

I had spent the night in a budget hotel with breakfast included. I got the dress from my seamstress; I’d explained my situation to her in the early morning and how I couldn’t go to work in the same clothes twice or I’d lose my dignity. She felt sorry for me.

"That has nothing to do with you. Next question." I cut him off again. This irritated him, but he pursed his lips and continued.

"Where should I send your belongings?"

Here was where my demeanor wavered. I had no place to store my things. I was homeless. That certainty terrified me and made me want to cry.

"I can... have them sent to my other bachelor apartment. You could stay there until you find a place to rent," he offered.

His proposal doesn’t surprise me in a good way. This had to be a big joke to me.

"Now you care what happens to me? Wouldn’t you have cared more when you were getting into my half-sister’s pants? Or when you got her pregnant? Wouldn’t it be better to care at those times?" I reminded him.

"This is also your fault, Marianne," he said, exhausted.

"Excuse me?" I said, offended.

"You’ve refused to have sex with me since we started dating a year ago. I’m a man, I have needs," he argued.

My chest ached at his accusation. He wasn't lying about that; we hadn't had sex because of my request. I was a virgin by conviction, maybe due to traumas I did not want to admit, by my mother's advice, and by fear of being abandoned after giving my body away.

"It was a condition you accepted. I wanted to wait until our marriage. If you didn’t believe in the same as me, you should have told me like a real man," I defended myself, to which he smiled at me and shook his head as if I were a fool.

"What about your inability to get your father on my side? You know how important it is for me to buy this company’s shares. You didn’t intercede in my favor even once. You’re incompetent."

I thought my chest couldn’t feel more pain than yesterday, but I was experiencing an even more powerful wave of pain right now. He was admitting the reason behind this relationship.

"Did you start courting me because you thought I would have some level of influence over Serge as his eldest daughter? I didn’t intend for my voice to come out sounding as hurt as it did.

"At first, yes," he confessed without being particularly proud of it.

My mouth twisted, and my eyes struggled not to cry. He noticed this and got angry at my expression.

"Oh, please, don't cry again. That's how marriages are in our social circles. They are business deals. I didn’t know you were the disowned daughter from how they talked about you in this company," he explains. "On the other hand, with Amanda, it was so easy; right now, I’m a few signatures away from them selling me the shares. Do you see what I’m talking about?"

My whole relationship had been a farce. Of course it had been—who in their right mind would think a businessman from a wealthy family like Andrew would be interested in the real me? After all, I was just another employee struggling to make ends meet and happened to be lucky enough to have the surname “Fairmount.” I swallowed my tears and looked at him like the scum he was.

"Are you done?" I asked harshly. He looked at me just as harshly. "I have pending work. Stop wasting my time. You’re not my boss yet as far as I know."

Outwardly, I sounded whole and dignified. Inside, I was trembling. If Andrew managed to buy those shares, he would be the majority owner of this company. He would also become my boss, and I knew he would end up firing me. I would be left without a job. It would be my end.

"Your father wants to have lunch with you and Amanda," he informed me from behind.

I froze at that information. He walked past me, satisfied.

"You won’t be able to refuse this time. That is your current boss," he mocked as he walked past me and left the room.

-

I didn’t know how my life went from a dream to a nightmare in less than 24 hours, but this was my life, my nightmare. One in which I had to keep my job at any cost, or at least until I could find another one and Andrew took over the presidency. That was why I was being greeted by one of my father’s house employees.

I had been invited to his main house for lunch, the one where he lived with his second wife and Amanda like a happy family. The lady who worked here led me to the large garden with a pool, specifically to the table on the charming terrace with my father, my stepmother, and my half-sister.

I sat down on an open seat and didn’t speak. As soon as I sat, the laughter and pleasant conversation stopped. I was an intruder in their happiness. I always had been.

"Marianne, we’re glad you could make time to eat with us. We certainly have a lot to talk about," my stepmother greeted.

She was a very elegant, diplomatic, and beautiful woman. All those characteristics attracted my father. Ah, and her money, of course. That was the main characteristic that made Serge go for her and be unfaithful to my mother.

"I don't know what the four of us can talk about. What has to be said has already been said. Amanda is pregnant with the child of the man who was my fiancé until yesterday. They will get married. The rest is history," I said with a fake smile on my face.

This seemed to embarrass the two women, while Serge looked at me angrily, as if I were the problem.

"Will you stop with your immature attitude? You are the eldest; it’s your responsibility to set an example," Serge imposed.

I had to bite my tongue. How could I be an example to a sister who hated me and was never allowed to be my real sister? His obvious preference for Amanda had turned her into this—a monster.

"Father, I understand your need to keep up appearances and peace in this family. But why do you need me in this equation? I’d rather our dynamic remain the same as always. Ignore my existence, I’ll ignore yours, and I’ll keep my mouth shut with dignity," I explained. "That said, can I leave?"

"No, you cannot leave," Serge said without thinking.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked, disappointed.

"Because it’s time for you to show your place in our family."

"What?" I was confused.

"You will help your sister organize her wedding with Andrew," he ordered.

I already knew that my family and my ex-fiancé hated me, but now I could confirm that fate did too.