Lies, lies, and more lies. Amelia’s last name should have been "Lie," and her profession before marrying my father must have been that of a natural-born con artist. There was no other explanation.The story my stepmother always stuck to was that she was a foreign heiress, childless, and with plenty of money to invest. She claimed to have fallen in love with my father to the point where she didn’t care that he was already married.Then she gave him a daughter, Amanda. Her supposed only daughter. I remembered it clearly, all the drama from Amelia about how she had sacrificed her body for her "only child." How difficult it had been being a "first-time mother." She said it with such conviction that no one dared contradict her.“That doesn't make any sense,” I blurted out reflexively.“It doesn’t make sense that you’re falling for... our sister’s game,” he said, uncomfortable, shaking his head with his eyes closed.That reality hit me. If Amanda and I shared the same father, and Amanda
“Was Amelia really who she said she was? What else had she been hiding?” I asked.“From what I found out, she created a whole new identity,” he explained as he wandered through my living room, taking his time to analyze every detail and feel every surface. “She changed her last name and pretended she was never married or had a kid. Her degrees and qualifications are probably fake as well. I’m surprised she didn’t change her first name, though. Maybe her narcissism wouldn’t let her.”“She created a new life... but it still doesn’t add up. Your father must’ve had more money than mine. Why leave him for Serge?”By then, Lucius was inspecting my kitchen, checking the ceiling and the counters, and I followed him, puzzled by his behavior.“Because she couldn’t control him with my grandmother around,” he confessed.“What?”“My grandmother was a woman who knew what she was doing and knew exactly who she had as a son—a drunk and a spendthrift. The money was hers, and she controlled it. Am
I knew I sounded more brazen than usual, something that made Lucius even more uncertain. He stopped looking at the floor and fixed his gaze on me.“It’s not the same…” he muttered, unsure.“Why wouldn’t it be?”“You were a virgin. You haven’t been with anyone else. Stop playing with the idea that you have. You’re in love with me.”A second, more voracious and hungry laugh escaped my throat. I laughed right in his face because of the sheer audacity Lucius had. He really said that.“I’m not in love with you, you arrogant jerk. What makes you think that?” I mocked him further, even though I was lying—I was, in fact, in love with him.“You can’t resist me, and you make up excuses to push me away. If I ignored your stupid boundaries, I’d have you moaning in that bed, completely satisfied. Very satisfied,” he boasted, bringing his mouth dangerously close to mine.This closeness was unsettling, the fact that we were sharing the same air. I also didn’t like how he was slipping his knee
I couldn’t believe what I was shopping for—a steamer to touch up my maid of honor dress. It hadn’t been a rushed purchase, but it was definitely last minute as the next day would be the date of my sister’s wedding to my ex-fiance.That’s why I was wandering through the small appliance section of the department store. I had been staring at the specs of a vertical steamer for several minutes, thinking it was the most appropriate and easy-to-use option for what I needed.Then, my phone rang from my purse, and I saw Estelle’s name on the screen. She was one of Amanda’s bridesmaids. I answered.“Marianne, what time will you get to the port? We can’t afford any more delays; we have a strict sailing schedule with the captain,” she explained.Her words sounded absurd to me. They made no sense at all. The only thing making sense was the discount on the blue steamer I was holding.“Why would I go to the port? Could you clarify?”“For your sister’s bachelorette party. Hello?” she replied, a
My sister immediately reacted to the contact, ripping off her blindfold and looking at the man in horror.“What is this? Who are you?” she asked, alarmed.“It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is that you’re the bride. A round of applause for the bride!” the stripper announced, trying to get everyone excited.The ladies screamed in delight, completely engrossed in the moment. So much so that they didn’t notice that the bride was clearly uncomfortable. The guy danced, stepping back a bit to help Amanda relax, but she couldn’t. Her face showed that she felt harassed.I looked at her so-called friends, who were more interested in taking photos, cheering, dancing, or drinking. Was no one going to stop this? When the stripper ripped off his pants and practically shoved his crotch in Amanda’s face, I had to step in.“That’s enough. Stop,” I ordered, putting my arm against his chest and pushing him away from Amanda.The room filled with confusion at my sudden action. The stripper lo
The sound of Amanda’s body hitting the water snapped me out of my daze. She had done it. That crazy lunatic had actually thrown herself into the water.“What did you do?! Murderer!” Estelle screamed at me.My face showed nothing but shock as I realized I wasn’t alone. About five of the bridesmaids were standing nearby, processing what had just happened. There was surprise, fear, and panic.“Stop the captain! The bride fell into the water!” Marissa started yelling at the crew members nearby.One girl ran to alert the captain while two others threw life preservers into the dark waters. As they hit the surface, Amanda’s arms emerged, flailing and crying for help. She was drowning and couldn’t grab hold of the life rings on her own. Two men dove into the water to rescue her.By now, the yacht had come to a stop, and everyone onboard—bridesmaids and crew—was focused on the accident. The men managed to get a hold of Amanda, securing a life preserver around her as she coughed from swallo
My words earned me several scoldings, but they rolled right off me. I couldn’t have cared less about the opinions of those women.-By the time we returned to the port, Amanda was being checked over in the ambulance, and Serge’s car pulled up. Amelia was the first to rush out, wrapping Amanda in her arms. Amanda, sitting at the edge of the ambulance’s back, was covered with a large towel draped over her shoulders.Taking his time, as always, was our father. But Amelia couldn’t wait for him. She pulled away from hugging her daughter and stormed over to me, furious.“What did you do to my daughter?! You filthy—” she yelled, raising her hand to slap me.I reacted just in time, grabbing her wrist and shoving her back with enough force that my stepmother stumbled a few steps.“How dare you?! Insolent brat!” she screamed.At that point, I wasn’t interested in her reaction. What mattered was Serge’s. He was watching us with his usual calculating gaze. He didn’t rush to Amanda to check
The culmination of my evil plans was finally about to unfold on that glorious day. Standing at the entrance of the cathedral, wearing my pink bridesmaid dress, I witnessed a rather amusing sight—Amanda struggling to get out of a flower-covered Mercedes 300. Her princess-style dress was so puffy that she could barely get out of the car.The absurdity of the crinoline, along with all those layers of tulle beneath the skirt, was worth many mocking photos. The bridesmaids fussing over her, adjusting her three-meter-long veil and holding her bouquet of 20 roses was an equally amusing sight.As for my interactions with the bridesmaids after last night’s circus, there was little to say. They had been glaring at me, and I had overheard whispered insults, calling me a terrible stepsister who tried to ruin poor, innocent Amanda’s wedding.Inside the cathedral, the music started to play, signaling that Andrew was waiting at the altar with his mother. The wedding planner instructed us to line u
Emma White's P.O.V.The chaos in the auditorium was absolute—shouts, people running in all directions, and sheer panic painted a scene of hell. My eyes stayed locked on Mark, who lay on the ground with blood smeared across his face. I couldn't move, paralyzed by shock and confusion."Get down! Don't just stand there," Lawrence urged, pulling me to a crouch.Obediently, I dropped low, realizing we weren't the only ones doing so. Others had also taken cover, waiting for the madness to subside. Though the gunshots had ceased, the frenzy hadn't. I couldn't get a clear view of how badly Mark was hurt—his security team had dragged him behind the podium."What just happened?" I asked Lawrence breathlessly."Whatever it was, it wasn't fatal," he replied, his eyes scanning the stage.From my crouched position, I saw Mark rising to his feet, ignoring his guards' insistence to stay down. My mother suddenly bolted from her seat, rushing to the stage the moment she spotted him. Her face was e
"What's more humiliating than being left alone during the debate? That was the plan—to show everyone that neither his wife nor daughter supports him after his scandals, emphasizing the danger he represents," Lawrence argued."I have to go. I'm sorry, but it's something I need to do. What's your take?" I pressed, glancing at the others.In the end, we agreed Lawrence would accompany me with his security team, Jason would be nearby to help extract my mother if necessary, and Sara offered to provoke Mark by visibly supporting Isabelle Silver.Oddly enough, Lawrence scolded Sara, telling her to stop meddling and stay with her parents that afternoon. Even more strangely, Sara didn't argue. Instead, she pouted and quietly placed her hand over her stomach in a... peculiar way.Was it just me, or did she have a bit of a belly?-All the progress I'd made in the days away from Mark seemed to crumble the moment we arrived at the auditorium for the candidates' debate. Seeing his face on the
"With you... I'd want everything."I smiled like a love-struck fool, nibbling on my fruit as my heart melted. If there were ever going to be kids in our future, I had to be at my healthiest. Jason started talking about his morning routine, and I listened with the phone tucked against my shoulder as I continued preparing breakfast. But as I poured the batter onto the pan, it struck me how odd it was that my mom hadn't come out of her room yet."That's strange. My mom's still asleep," I said, glancing toward her door."Did you check to see if she might've stepped out?" Jason suggested gently."Why would she leave? We agreed neither of us would go anywhere... I'll check."I put the phone down for a moment and knocked on her door, calling out softly. There was no response. When I opened it, the room was empty—her bed neatly made, her shoes gone. My heart raced as my phone buzzed again, this time showing my mom's number. Picking it up, I quickly explained the situation to Jason and tol
Emma White's P.O.V.I woke up wrapped in an unexpected sense of peace. Despite the unfamiliar bed and the small, borrowed space, it was a kind of calm I'd never known before. Peace, as it turned out, wasn't something you could buy, no matter how much money you had.Life in Lawrence's apartment had been surprisingly pleasant. Each day felt a little brighter, a little safer. As I got up and made my way to the bathroom, I splashed my face with cool water, noticing with delight how much my skin had improved.By the time I reached the kitchen, I was in an unusually cheerful mood. Pancakes seemed like the perfect breakfast, so I opened the fridge to grab some pre-cut fruit—melons and papayas, today's choice. The sight of the neatly packed container brought a smile to my face. I plucked a piece of melon and popped it into my mouth. It was perfect.Setting the fruit on the counter, I gathered the rest of the ingredients: oatmeal, eggs, and milk. The clock on the microwave caught my attenti
"Have you forgotten that you're still engaged to Emma White? Because I certainly haven't," Lionel accused, his tone sharper than a blade."The repeated delays in the wedding should've given you a clue—it's not happening," Lawrence stated firmly."Then why is the engagement still active? Wouldn't it have been simpler to handle this in order? Or do you enjoy fueling the rumors about my daughter? You've turned her into your mistress," Lionel spat, his glare piercing.Lawrence visibly flinched at the accusation, guilt washing over him. He seemed lost for words, so I stepped in."Dad... are you really going to echo the same gossip as those busybodies? I already told you—there was never a real relationship between Emma and Lawrence. That engagement was arranged by their parents," I explained, trying to diffuse the tension."There was never anything between us," Lawrence added, his tone desperate for clarity. "Not emotionally, not physically. It was entirely a business arrangement."At
In my head, an apocalyptic soundtrack was playing; on my parents' faces, an apocalyptic expression was forming. My apartment had turned into the ninth circle of hell. From this moment on, everything spiraled out of control. Lawrence turned to face Lionel and Clara while I instinctively clung to his back, using him as a human shield."Sara Brown!" my dad bellowed."She's not here!" I shouted, clutching Lawrence so tightly my arms ached."What are you doing with that boy?!" my father roared.Still pressed against Lawrence, I could see him glance around the room, taking in the chaos of scattered clothing—including undergarments. And then, Lawrence did something unforgivable."Isn't it obvious, sir?" he said, calm as ever.Lawrence clearly wanted to watch the world burn, and my dad wasn't about to disappoint. He lunged toward us, but my mom intercepted him, wrapping her arms around his middle to stop a full-blown disaster. Meanwhile, I stayed glued to Lawrence's back, peeking out fro
"Because I just found out from Richard!" I exclaimed, watching Lawrence's brows lift in genuine surprise. "He said Emma is their half-sister, which officially makes Victoria the ultimate hypocrite. I mean, how was she planning to marry you off to the half-sister of your half-brothers? And I was supposed to be the 'incestuous' one because of her wild theory that you and I might be siblings?""Why would Richard tell you that?" Lawrence asked, his curiosity piqued.I looked at him with a mix of tenderness and pity. I knew that Lawrence had said back in that room that he didn't see Richard and Julian as brothers, but I also knew him better than anyone.Gently, I stroked his face. "Because deep down, those two brats care about you, and they still see you as their brother."He shook his head, unconvinced. "You heard them. All they care about is the money. I even offered to give them some before the will was read but they ignored me and kept coming at me. I'm done, Sara. Let them file wha
"Look at what you've done. You've been very naughty," I teased, grinning down at him."This has to be a dream..." Lawrence muttered, almost to himself."Oh, my God. Were you dreaming about knocking me up? You dirty pervert," I laughed, my tone light.This time, Lawrence didn't stay passive. With a firm grip on my hips, he flipped us over, pinning me beneath him. His lips crashed onto mine with a renewed hunger, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he thrust into me with such fervor that I knew exactly what was coming.And then it happened—a deep, guttural sound escaped him as he hit his climax, his release warm and consuming. The sensation of him filling me was exquisite, leaving me utterly satisfied. Or so I thought. Lawrence, ironically, didn't seem nearly as content."Damn it... I'm sorry," he muttered, frustrated."There's absolutely nothing to apologize for," I said, threading my fingers through his tousled hair. I grinned slyly. "That is... as long as you plan to make
My steps were frantic as I headed toward the parking lot. Lawrence was nowhere in sight, and the fear that he might’ve left in this state was gnawing at me. Not finding him in the elevator or the hallway only worsened my nerves. I made a beeline for my car, and my search came to an abrupt halt when I spotted him leaning against it, waiting for me. Relief washed over me.“So, this is where you’ve been,” I said, my voice heavy with thankfulness.“I wasn’t about to go far with you still in there,” he replied with a soft, melancholic smile—one that mirrored my own.“I’m prescribing you something,” I said in a mock professional tone.“And what exactly are you prescribing?” he asked, curious.“This,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. With his height, I had to tilt upward on my toes, but he didn’t hesitate for even a second, circling my waist with his arms and holding me like his life depended on it.“I need about a million of these,” he murmured