I learned belatedly that this marriage of convenience was originally just an exchange of interests. The Donovan family, entrenched in their lineage for three generations, needed a woman who could bear sons to continue their legacy. They knew too well the dangers that could accompany such a decision and the thought of losing their only daughter was unthinkable.

Then I came along, the unassuming alternative and suddenly, there seemed to be a way to satisfy everyone’s desires without sacrificing too much. It was an arrangement that offered the promise of fulfillment on both sides, but unfortunately, I was relegated to the role of the third party in this delicate dance. I was neither wanted nor needed; I was merely a placeholder in a game I never signed up to play.

Even Nial, who had grown up alongside me, quickly switched sides to support Leta once the truth came to light. Like me, he was the child of the Larsen servants and had faced his own share of bullying at Leta’s hands. Yet, when push came to shove, he chose the path of least resistance, siding with the one who had once tormented us both. I still vividly remember those childhood days when he held my hand and vowed to study hard, earn a fortune and rise above the Larsens so that Leta would never torment me again. His words echoed in my mind like a cruel joke, a promise now twisted by betrayal. How had it all come to this?

I stumbled out of the room, but the more I tried to escape, the more I felt trapped. The stains on my clothes clung to the floor and in a futile attempt to clean them, I only made them worse. Tears streamed down my face as the realization sank in. I should have given up long ago.

I fled the hotel, subconsciously heading back to the apartment I once shared with my fake mother. This place held over twenty years of not-so-great memories for me, but it’s the only place I could think in this distressful moment. With trembling fingers, I entered the door code, but an alert rang out, signaling that I was wrong. The sound piercing the silence.  Undeterred, I tried once more, my heart pounding with anticipation. When the door finally swung open, I was met by the sight of a bald man with a beer belly. His eyes narrowed as he took in my disheveled appearance and spat on the ground. “Get off my property, you crazy bitch!” he barked, his words slicing through the air like a blade. With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving me standing there in shock.

I walked away, feeling a mix of anger and defeat swirling within me. This place wasn’t my home anymore, nor was the lavish Larsen estate, where I had once dreamed of belonging. The world outside felt just as hostile; even the stray dogs on the street barked at me as I passed. I clutched my wedding gown tightly, my steps unsteady as I sought refuge in a dimly lit corner, sinking down to sit on the ground. I felt invisible, a shadow cast aside.

I remembered a time when I picked up a discarded cup that Leta had thrown away. She had been furious, snatching it back and declaring that a ‘trash’ like me had no right to take her thrash.

Shawn had intervened, his brow furrowed in anger at her behavior. “You need to stop being so spoiled,” he had told her before turning to me with a polite smile, saying, “I’m sorry for her. Please forgive her.”

His kindness had been a small beacon in my darkest memories, a light I had clung to. But now, as I sat alone in the shadows, it felt as though all the light had been extinguished.

Nial had saved up his salary for two months to buy me a beautiful cup adorned with a princess image. His earnest eyes sparkled with excitement as he presented it to me. “Bronwyn, you deserve everything good in this world,” he declared. His words, so sincere, pierced through the layers of my despair, if only for a moment.

After the engagement and before the wedding day, memories of Shawn cradling Leta in his arms flooded my mind. She nestled comfortably against him while he comforted her, whispering softly, “I’ll always be by your side. No matter what.” His words echoed hauntingly in my thoughts and I had once dared to ask him why he loved her despite all her faults.

“Leta is headstrong and selfish. She has her quirks and leaves trouble wherever she goes and I’ve always been the one cleaning up her mess,” he had replied seriously. “But that’s what worries me. Without me, who will help her out of trouble?”

In that moment, I wanted to cry out, questioning whether the kindness he had shown me all those years was real or just a facade. But it all made sense now. He was simply used to cleaning up Leta's messes and I was just a convenient distraction he had unwittingly indulged. I had naively believed that his gestures were special, that they held some deeper meaning.

One day I stumbled upon Nial’s diary and read it. I’ll rise to the top and one day, Leta will have to look up at me, begging for mercy. I’ll make her love me completely, with no way out. I could feel his determination through the pages.

Then there were my biological parents. I had overheard my mother sobbing quietly in her bedroom, her voice laced with bitterness as she lamented, “Why isn’t Leta my real daughter?” She had always hated my dark skin, despised the way I kept my head down while eating and resented my timid nature that made me seem unworthy of being their child. My father would often sigh when he looked at me, muttering, “It’s just how things are. There's nothing we can do about it.”

I felt like a burden to them, a constant reminder of a mistake they could never erase. It was as if my existence had become their greatest source of suffering.

I clung to the last threads of delusion, staring at my reflection in the mirror, pulling at the corners of my lips to force a smile, practicing the etiquette and grace I thought would make me enough. I absorbed Shawn's cold stares and Nial's expectations, stretching myself to fit into the roles they wanted me to play. But no matter how hard I tried, I was always the invisible girl—overlooked, forgotten, drifting through life without purpose or direction.

As the night deepened, I found myself swallowed by an abyss of hopelessness, unable to struggle against the dark current that threatened to drown me. Just as my emotions began to calm, my phone rang. It was my father. Since returning to the Larsens, he had hardly made an effort to reach out, but now his voice was heavy with urgency.

“Who said you could leave? You walked out as soon as Leta arrived. Do you want her to feel sad again? Stupid brat, do you have any idea how this looks for her? Get yourself here, right now.” His words came tumbling out, sharp and accusatory, slicing through my already fragile state. “If you hadn’t insisted on calling Shawn, Leta wouldn’t be blaming herself! She’s unstable right now and keeps talking about apologizing to you. You have to apologize and explain yourself to her.”

“You have five minutes. Don’t let me down,” he added, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

I paused, clarity washing over me like a cold splash of water. “I’m not going back,” I stated firmly, feeling the strength in my voice. The Larsens, the Donovans—those lavish worlds never truly belonged to me and I had no desire to meddle in their affairs any longer.

The moment my words left my mouth, I heard my father’s feigned angry tone cut through the silence, a cruel reminder of my place.

“How long are you going to cause trouble? You’ve turned all our lives upside down and still being selfish as ever. Do you want Leta to die? Will that makes you happy?” He shouted, his frustration boiling over and just as he finished, I heard a different voice take over the call.

“I'm warning you, Bronwyn, if anything happens to Leta tonight, I won't let you off the hook,” It was Shawn's voice, cold and unyielding, a stark reminder of the anguish that had already begun to consume me. A rush of sadness washed over me, a dull ache settling deep in my heart, as I felt the weight of his words sink in. Suddenly, the world around me fell silent.

The world around me spun and on the other end of the phone, Shawn's anxious voice continued to blare, but I could no longer grasp his words. Maybe it was for the best. Any form of escape was welcome if it meant I could stop bearing this unbearable burden.

“You better pay attention. I’m a man of my word, Bronwyn. I will find out who hurt Leta. I don’t care if you are the real daughter of the Larsens!” His voice was filled with a simmering anger that cut through the haze of my thoughts.

He won’t let me off the hook? Whatever. Let him come. Then, my head crashed heavily against the ground. I felt no pain, only a strange sense of relief washing over me. Finally, some peace and quiet.