The moment I stepped inside the villa, I saw the living room was brightly lit.

My father sat in the main armchair, my stepmother Claire sipped tea beside him, and Laura sat quietly on the sofa in a white dress. It was a tribunal, and I was the one on trial.

Three pairs of eyes fixed on me.

"Look at the state of you!" my father shot up, pointing at my red dress. "Have you no shame? Do you even know what time it is?"

I ignored him, kicked off my heels, and started for the stairs.

"Wait," Laura said softly. "Sister, did you really give the engagement to me? I still can't believe it..."

She looked overwhelmed with gratitude, but the glint of triumph in her eyes gave her away.

I stopped and turned to face her perfectly crafted innocent expression. "What's the matter?" I sneered. "Don't you love picking up my trash?"

"Alessia!" my father roared. "How dare you speak to your sister like that!"

"Stepsister," I corrected him. "Let's be clear about our blood ties."

Claire's face tightened, but she maintained her high-society composure. "Alessia, that was uncalled for. Laura has always looked up to you. You shouldn't hurt her like this."

"Besides," my father continued, a smug look on his face, "Mrs. Schroder is much more pleased with Laura. She thinks Laura's gentle and poised nature is better suited for the family matriarch. It's too late for you to have any regrets now."

Regrets? I almost laughed out loud. If I wasn't so afraid of blowing my cover, I'd tell them I thank my lucky stars for this every single day.

"That's right, Alessia," Claire added with a syrupy-sweet, venomous tone. "With a personality like yours, what decent man would ever want you?"

I turned to my scheming stepmother. "Aunt Claire, you should worry about your own daughter. It would be a real shame if her new husband sent her packing, wouldn't it?"

"You—" Claire's face turned purple with rage.

I ignored them and went up to my room.

The next morning, while I was still lazing in bed, a maid knocked to say Edmund was here. I dragged myself out of bed, threw on a loose silk robe, and went downstairs.

Edmund was sitting in the living room. When he saw my disheveled state, his brow furrowed.

"Are the rules written?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

I flopped onto the sofa. "My hand hurts. I can't write."

His face darkened. "Alessia, don't test my patience."

"I really can't," I held out my hand for him to see. "Look, I can barely hold a pen."

As he stood there silently, Laura descended the stairs, clearly having spent hours getting ready.

"Mr. Schroder," she said shyly, handing him a framed canvas. "I painted this portrait of you last night. I hope you like it."

Edmund took the painting and studied it, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. "This is very well done." Then he turned to me, his gaze filled with disappointment. "You should take a page out of your sister's book."

I'm about to make his wish come true, I thought with a cold smile. He'll have his respectful fiancée soon enough.

"Now, go get changed," Edmund ordered. "You're coming with me to a family dinner tonight."

"I'm not going," I refused flatly. "Take Laura. You seem to think she's more suitable anyway."

"You are the one I announced as my fiancée," he said, his voice laced with an authority that left no room for argument.

Those words hit me like a needle to the heart. Just like last time, he was marrying me because it was arranged by our elders. If he'd had a choice, he would have picked Laura from the start.

This time, I was going to give him what he wanted.

Laura immediately jumped in, her voice soft. "Maybe sister isn't used to such formal events. Why don't... I go with her?" Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm and pulled me upstairs. "Sister, let me help you with your makeup."

The second the door closed, Laura’s gentle facade vanished, replaced by a smug, triumphant smirk. "You saw it, didn't you? Edmund definitely prefers me."

I leaned against the door, watching her little show with amusement. "Is that so? Then why didn't you just tell him the bride has been switched?"

Laura's expression faltered.

I raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. "You don't have the guts, do you?" I taunted. "You're afraid he'll call off the whole thing if he finds out. Afraid he won't want you."

My words hit a nerve. Laura exploded. "That's not true!" she hissed. "When Edmund finds out, he'll be relieved he's getting the better wife! I'm just waiting to give him a surprise on our wedding day!"

She glared at me, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You better keep your mouth shut. If you ruin this for me, I'll make you regret it."

I smirked. "Don't worry. I can't wait for you to be his problem."

In the end, I was dragged to the party.

Two hours later, we arrived at The Wilson, Chicago's most luxurious hotel. I had deliberately chosen a flashy purple dress with a plunging neckline and a thigh-high slit that sparkled under the lights. Laura, in contrast, wore a modest black gown. The two of us couldn't have been more different.

"Dammit," Edmund's face clouded over the moment he saw me. "I told you to change, not to find something even more revealing."

"This is the most conservative thing in my closet," I said, feigning innocence. I was enjoying getting under his skin.

Laura, ever the peacemaker, added softly, "Mr. Schroder, please don't be angry. Sister has always liked these kinds of outfits, even if they don't exactly fit the Schroder family's... standards."

Her words sounded like a defense, but she was just pouring gasoline on the fire. Sure enough, heads began to turn. Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"Is that the future Mrs. Schroder?"

"Looks like Don Edmund has his work cut out for him..."

Edmund's expression grew darker.

When the music for the opening dance began, he was expected to take his partner to the floor. His eyes swept over my dress, then he turned and walked straight to Laura.

Laura feigned shock, hand to her chest. "But... shouldn't you be dancing with Alessia? She's right here."

"It's fine," Edmund said without looking back. "This will be a good chance for her to learn what real grace looks like."

His words were a slap in the face. The murmurs grew louder. Everyone was enjoying the show at my expense.

But I didn't feel humiliated or jealous. Just tired of it all.

Watching the picture-perfect couple in the middle of the dance floor, I turned and walked out to the terrace. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy ballroom. I leaned against the railing, looking up at the stars, feeling surprisingly calm.

The click of heels sounded behind me.

"What's wrong? Did you come out here to cry?" Laura glided onto the terrace, her face flushed from the dance. "You see? Edmund doesn't like your type at all."

I kept my eyes on the sky. "And?"

"And you should know your place," she said, coming to stand beside me, her chin held high. "In a few days, I'll be the lady of the Schroder house. You'd do well to show me a little respect..."

I turned to look at her, her face twisted with smug satisfaction. "Are you done? Because I'm going back inside."

"What's the hurry? I'm not finished," she snapped, her voice growing shrill when she saw she couldn't get a rise out of me. "You know, you're just as pathetic as your mother. She lost to my mother, and now you're losing to me. It seems failure just runs in your blood."

At the mention of my mother, my eyes turned to ice.

"What did you just say?"

Drunk on her own victory, Laura kept going. "I said, you and your mother are both pathetic loser—"

Before she could finish, I lunged forward and grabbed the collar of her dress. With a vicious shove, I pushed her toward the decorative fountain behind her.

"Ahhh—"

With a terrified scream and a loud splash, Laura plunged into the water.

"Help! Cough, cough... Help me!" she thrashed in the fountain, her white dress clinging to her body, her hair plastered to her face. She was a complete mess.

I stood at the edge, looking down at her, feeling nothing but cold satisfaction.

"Next time you insult my mother, the fountain will be the least of your worries."

Just then, hurried footsteps approached from behind.

"What's going on?"

It was Edmund's voice, sharp with anger and concern.

Edmund rushed to the fountain. The second he saw Laura struggling in the water, he threw off his jacket and jumped in.

He lifted her out and held her close.

Laura shivered in his arms, sobbing. "Edmund... I was so scared... I was just talking to my sister, and she just... she pushed me... I almost drowned..."

"It's okay, you're okay," Edmund soothed, rubbing her back. Then he whipped his head around to face me, his eyes burning with rage. "Alessia! Are you insane?"

I watched them, my face a blank mask. "She had it coming."

"What did you say?" he stared at me, his disappointment absolute. "I thought you were just spoiled. I didn't realize you were completely unhinged."

"Apologize to Laura. Now."

I met his gaze and said flatly, "Not a chance."

That sent him over the edge. "Fine. Then I guess it's time I taught you what our family's rules really mean."

He gently set Laura down on a nearby bench and pulled out his phone. "Bring all the paintings from Alessia's room. Now!"

My heart stopped. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," he said, his voice like ice.

Ten minutes later, several of his men carried all the paintings from my room out to the terrace. They were my mother's work, the last things I had of her. The most precious things I owned.

"Edmund, you can't touch them!" I panicked, my voice trembling.

"Scared now?" he looked at me coldly. "I'll ask you one more time. Apologize to Laura, or..." He motioned for a guard to take one of the paintings to the lit fireplace nearby.

"No! You can't burn it!" I lunged forward, but his men held me back.

"Then apologize," Edmund said, his face unreadable.

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, but I said nothing. I would not apologize to the woman who insulted my mother.

"Very well," he nodded to the guard. "Burn it."

"No—"

I watched in horror as my mother's painting was tossed into the fire, instantly consumed by the flames. The orange glow lit up my pale face. My body trembled, but I held my ground.

"Still not apologizing?" Edmund asked.

I kept my mouth shut.

"Continue."

A second painting went into the fire. Then a third, a fourth... Each one felt like a knife in my heart, but I clenched my jaw and refused to give in.

Laura, still "weakly" shivering on the bench, had a look of vicious pleasure in her eyes. This was what she wanted: to see me break.

"This is the last one," Edmund's voice was still cold as stone. "If this one burns, there will be nothing left."

A guard held up the final painting. It was my mother's self-portrait, the one I treasured most. In it, she was smiling gently, just as she used to smile at me.

Seeing it, my defenses finally crumbled.

"Wait..." my voice was a raw whisper. "I... I'll apologize..."

"Louder. So everyone can hear," Edmund ordered, looking down on me. The crowd of guests that had gathered was watching the whole spectacle, whispering among themselves.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly bowed my head. "I'm sorry... Laura... It was my fault..."

"It's okay. How could I ever stay mad at my own sister?" Laura said weakly, but the triumph in her eyes was unmistakable.

Humiliation, rage, despair... it all washed over me at once. A wave of dizziness hit me, and the world went dark.

The last thing I heard before I passed out was Edmund's cold voice from above.

"This is a small punishment for your disobedience."

Then, I collapsed in front of everyone.