I gave the driver my address and turned to the window.
The interior reeked of roses and musk—Anna Fox's signature perfume. My half-sister. The current Mrs. Gilbert.
The passenger seat was decorated with cute cushions. A custom sign on the dashboard read: Reserved for Annie.
I watched the city lights blur into neon streaks.
"Serena Whitmore." Paul's voice dripped venom. "Seeing you live like this brings me immense joy."
I met his reflection in the rearview mirror. Six years, and his hatred hadn't dimmed.
I looked down at my hands—rough, red, swollen from detergent and cold water.
Paul wasn't finished.
"You used dirty tricks to force that marriage. You nearly killed Annie's child and tried to destroy my company." Paul's voice was devoid of warmth, sharp as a blade. "You schemed so hard, and look at you now. You deserve this."
Pain flared in my wrist and the old fracture in my leg—ghost aches from a lifetime ago. A dry, hollow laugh escaped my lips.
I had loved Paul Gilbert for over twenty years. And this was his final verdict: I deserved it.
He fell silent, eyes fixed on the road. I closed mine, letting the darkness pull me back to a time before the nightmare began.
The Whitmores and Gilberts were bound by history and business. Paul and I were inevitable—childhood sweethearts. He was the stoic anchor to my spirited, pampered storm. Opposites, yet we fit perfectly.
When we were young, our confessions were shy and tentative. But after college entrance exams, I waged a campaign against our elders, begging for an engagement.
Mom hesitated. She feared a business alliance might crush me. But I held her hand, grinning like a fool.
"Mom, we love each other. Paul will cherish me forever."
I wore them down. Got my ring. Thought I had the world.
Two months later, that world shattered. Mom died in a car crash.
Two weeks after the funeral, Dad brought a girl home. Anna Fox—only two weeks younger than me. From the moment she crossed our threshold, my life disintegrated.
Anna took my bedroom. Seduced my dog with treats until he ignored me. Even wore the jewelry Mom had left for me.
I fought back, screaming at the injustice. But Dad didn't defend me. He scolded me. The doting father who'd treated me like a princess vanished, replaced by a cold stranger.
Then I saw the paternity test.