He seized my hand in a crushing grip.

"Fern, you're ruthless."

"Fine. I admit it—I fell for you. I can't stand the thought of another man near you. Happy now?"

Then came that livestream confession that broke the internet.

Kevin Henson swore he'd changed. Swore he'd be a devoted husband from then on.

And for a while, we really did have something sweet.

Just like Hailey said, he went all in—learning my tastes, catering to my every whim.

When he found out I loved skiing, he built me a private estate in Switzerland. Even named it after us—a blend of our names, a promise carved into stone.

But now.

I stared at Christina's latest social media post.

The estate's nameplate had been changed.

Those four characters that once symbolized us—"Kevin and Fern Forever"—had been replaced.

Now it read: Kevin Embraces Christina.

"Yes, he cheated again. So no, I don't want him anymore."

I set down my phone and signed my name on the divorce papers without a second thought.

On the seventh day after Mom's passing—her first memorial—Dad called out of nowhere, asking me to come home for breakfast.

I thought maybe, just maybe, he still felt something for her.

That he'd want to burn paper offerings with me. Honor her together.

I was wrong.

When I walked through the door, Christina and her mother Glenda Fleming were already seated at the table.

My face went cold. I turned to leave.

"Stop right there!"

Dad's voice cracked like a whip. Before I could take another step, he launched into me.

"I heard you tried to hit Christina at the club the other day! What kind of sister does that?!"

"Thank God Kevin stepped in, or you'd have hurt her! And after all that, you want a divorce? You ran away from home?!"

"I don't know what your mother taught you, but she raised a shrew. Get on your knees and apologize before you destroy both families' partnership!"

I looked at this man—this man who only saw dollar signs where his heart should be.

A cold laugh escaped me.

"You knew I ran away. Did you once ask where I've been staying? Whether I was okay?"

"Oh wait—I forgot. Your heart's too busy chasing after your mistress. You didn't even show up to your own wife's funeral. And you have the audacity to criticize how she raised me?"

Dad slammed his chopsticks down. His hand flew up to strike me.

Glenda's eyes darted. She caught his arm just in time, playing peacemaker.

"Honey, don't. The poor girl's grieving. We should be understanding." She patted his chest. "I'm fine, really."

Then she smiled—that sickly-sweet smile.

"Besides, if you bruise her face, how will she stand next to Christina as my bridesmaid?"

Everything stopped.

My voice came out raw, scraped hollow.

"What did you just call him? You're married?"

"Mom's been dead for seven days, and you couldn't wait to bring your mistress home as your wife?!"

Dad's expression hardened. Not a shred of shame.

"Your mother's gone. What—I'm supposed to mourn her forever?"

"Christina's grown now. I can't let people keep calling her a bastard. This is my responsibility as her father!"

Responsibility.

I sank into the chair, laughter spilling out of me—bitter, broken. Tears streamed down my face.

Christina sidled up beside me, grabbing my hand like we were the best of friends.

"This is wonderful, sister. Now we're officially family! I don't know all the rules of high society yet, so you'll have to teach me. I'd hate to embarrass myself."

"Sure." I smiled. "No problem at all."

Glenda and Dad exchanged satisfied looks.

I wiped my tears. Pulled out a cigarette. Lit it with one hand.

Then I leaned in close and blew the smoke right into Christina's face.

"Here's your first lesson. I'm the legitimate daughter—born to the actual wife. You? You're the bastard child of a home-wrecker."

I took another drag.

"Until I speak to you first, you don't get to open your mouth in my presence. Understood?"

I ground the cigarette into the back of her hand.

As her skin sizzled and Christina's scream tore through the air, I seized her chin.

"You think I don't know? You were alone with my mother before she died. I haven't even settled that score yet—so don't push me!"

"Fern! Have you lost your mind?!" My father slammed his palm on the table. Glenda rushed to pull the sobbing Christina into her arms, shooting me a venomous glare.

I dusted off my hands, a hollow laugh escaping my lips.

"My mother only ever had one daughter. Where exactly did this bargain-bin sister come from?"

"Dad, you know my temper. You want to throw a wedding for these two? Legitimize them in front of everyone?" I tilted my head. "Go ahead. I'll have someone tear the whole thing apart. Try me."

Perhaps it was because I was still, technically, Mrs. Henson.

My father's face went rigid. Glenda's expression curdled.

But the moment shattered when a familiar voice cut in from behind me.

"With me here, I'd like to see anyone try."

Kevin strolled in, one hand tucked casually in his pocket.

The instant Christina saw him, her tears found new purpose. She threw herself into his arms, thrusting her burned hand toward him like a wounded dove.

Kevin's brow creased with concern. He stroked her hair, murmuring softly, "It's okay, sweetheart. I'll take you to the best dermatologist in the city. Not a single scar, I promise."

His voice turned lighter, almost playful. "Our Christina still has to be the prettiest bridesmaid at Mom's wedding, doesn't she?"

I stared at him, my voice cracking. "Kevin. Do you even hear yourself?"

He lifted his gaze to meet mine. His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile, but his eyes—his eyes were glacial.

"I heard everything. Men from wealthy families—who doesn't have a woman or two on the side? Your mother died because she couldn't handle it. And somehow, that's Christina's fault?"

His tone sharpened. "You got to grow up with a father by your side. Why shouldn't Christina have the same?"

"No matter what it takes, I'm going to bring her back into the Sullivan family. Everyone will know she's a legitimate daughter of the Sullivans—and no one will ever call her a bastard again."

"You want to wreck this wedding, Fern?" His jaw tightened. "Try it."

I knew he meant every word.

The last time he'd issued a threat like that, the man's company had been swallowed whole by the Hensons within a week. The owner himself had his legs shattered, his tongue cut out, and vanished from Seacrest City entirely.

And what had that man done? Made a crude joke about me.

I should have seen this coming.

Kevin had always been a playboy at heart. To him, my father's affair was trivial—barely worth a raised eyebrow. He couldn't begin to fathom the devastation my mother and I had endured.

But knowing that didn't make it hurt any less—this betrayal, delivered point-blank by the man who had once slept beside me.

My palm connected with his face before I could stop myself.

"Get out!"

Kevin let out a low, humorless laugh, working his jaw.

Before he could respond, Christina lunged at me, shoving me with all her strength.

"I've had enough of you! Don't you dare bully Kevin anymore!"

Kevin watched her with an amused glint in his eye. "Well, well. The little bunny has teeth after all."

"You've always protected me, Kevin." Christina's voice trembled with righteous fury. "Now it's my turn to protect you!"

I crashed backward into two massive potted cacti.

Needles pierced my back, my palms, everywhere. Blood dripped onto the tile. The pain was so sharp I couldn't help the hiss that escaped through my teeth.

My father's face twisted with irritation. "A perfectly good breakfast, ruined by your dramatics."

He turned to Kevin, his tone shifting to something warm and ingratiating. "Perfect timing, actually. Have you eaten? Let's go somewhere else."

Kevin didn't even glance my way. His attention remained fixed on Christina's injured hand as he murmured his assent, already guiding her toward the door.

At the threshold, Christina turned back.

Her lips moved silently, forming words meant only for me.

Loser.

I watched the four of them walk away—a perfect little family, their silhouettes warm against the fading light.

A bitter laugh escaped me. Tears slid down my cheeks anyway.

Mom... you see this? The moment you died, your daughter lost her home.

Does it hurt you to watch? Can you come back? Please? I miss you so much...

News of my father's remarriage spread through our social circle like wildfire.

In the weeks leading up to it, he paraded Christina around every public event imaginable—even the ones strictly for married couples.

Kevin issued a decree: no one was to call her "the illegitimate daughter" anymore. She was to be treated with the same respect as he was.

Christina made sure I knew.

Video calls. Photos. Messages at all hours.

Every single one designed to twist the knife.

"Sis, Kevin gave me another diamond ring yesterday. Our initials are engraved on it. They say the stone is even bigger than the one from your wedding."

"Oh, and he convinced his mother to give me the family's heirloom jade bracelet. You know, the one that's supposed to go to the daughter-in-law? I guess you won't be needing it anymore."

I remembered that bracelet.

The Henson family tradition was clear: it only passed to the son's wife after she gave birth.

Kevin had never once fought to get it for me. "We'll have children eventually," he'd said. "It'll come to you naturally."

Given his wandering eye back then, I'd never been eager to get pregnant anyway. We'd planned to start trying after the new year.

Well. That plan was certainly dead now.

I couldn't imagine what he'd said to make Miriam Henson—traditional, immovable Miriam—break her own rules.

The final message was a photo.

Kevin, asleep. His bare neck and chest were covered in lipstick marks.

"Sis, Kevin is incredible. I could barely keep up. He said he hasn't felt this alive in years. Apparently being with you was like facing down a tigress—killed his mood completely. He just went through the motions."

I didn't bother responding.

I blocked her.

The day of my father's wedding to Glenda, Kevin expected me to cause a scene.

He stationed bodyguards everywhere—inside the venue, outside, at every exit.

He needn't have bothered.

Kevin had already made his position clear: anyone who helped me make trouble would answer to the Henson family.

No one dared stand with me.

I sat alone in my hotel room, tracing my mother's face in the photograph I'd brought. Tears fell onto the glass.

I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry.

That afternoon, Kevin kicked in my door anyway.

Behind him stood Christina, eyes swollen and red from crying.

He crossed the room in three strides and grabbed my collar, yanking me close.

"Fern." His voice shook with fury. "I didn't think even you could sink this low. Projecting Christina's nude photos at her own mother's wedding?"

"It's already trending online. How is she supposed to find a husband now? You're trying to destroy her!"

I shoved his hands away, bewildered.

"What are you—"

Christina cut me off, her voice breaking into theatrical sobs.

"Sis, I know you didn't want to transfer the shares to me. But it was Dad's decision! What was I supposed to do, defy him?"

"If you're angry at me, fine. I'll accept that. But why did you have to do this on Mom's wedding day?" Her lip trembled. "She spent years being called the other woman. She's suffered enough."

And there it was.

The real play.

When my father had fallen for my mother—defying both families, ignoring the gap in their status to marry her—he'd given her half his shares. To make her feel secure.

She'd signed them over to me.

This whole thing is a setup. For those shares.

I laughed—cold, hollow.

"Kevin." I met his eyes. "You really can't see it? This is all her. A performance she wrote, directed, and starred in—just to steal what my mother left me."

"You say I did it—who saw me? Where's the proof?"

"I don't need proof. Christina isn't the scheming type. You're the only one with motive!"

Kevin's face was set with absolute certainty. He grabbed my arm.

"You're going to livestream an apology to Christina right now. You'll admit you did all of it."

"And you'll transfer every share under your name to her. You owe her that much."

"And if I refuse?"

At my words, Christina's face crumpled. She let out a shriek.

"Kevin, my reputation is ruined because of her! Everyone's calling me a shameless homewrecker who destroyed our parents' wedding!"

"She's had Dad by her side her whole life, shares in the company, and a husband as accomplished as you. I have nothing. If I'm going to be pointed at and whispered about for the rest of my life, I'd rather just die!"

Kevin lunged to grab her.

"Christina, don't be rash!"

His eyes blazed as they cut toward me. A cold smile curved his lips.

"Fern. Do you really think the body that was cremated that day... was your mother?"