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.

I don't know how long I was out. I woke up in my own room.

Turning my head, I was shocked to see Edmund sitting in a chair by my bed, holding my hand.

"You're awake," he said softly, a gentleness in his voice I'd never heard before.

I snatched my hand back. "Shouldn't you be with Laura? She was so terrified, after all."

Edmund frowned. "You are my fiancée."

"Oh?" I scoffed. "Then who was it that asked another woman to dance in front of everyone? Who burned my mother's paintings for another woman?"

He was silent for a moment. "I'll replace them with more valuable art. I can buy you a Monet, a Picasso, a Van Gogh, whatever you want."

"And you think that can replace my mother's work?" I stared at him, my heart filled with hate.

"Alessia, if I hadn't done that, your father would have punished you far more severely. I was protecting you."

"Besides, you're going to be my wife. You need to have the dignity of a Schroder—"

"Enough!" I couldn't stand to hear one more word about his damn family rules.

Seeing my cold defiance, Edmund's face darkened. "My patience has a limit, Alessia."

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I rested for a while longer, then dragged my exhausted body downstairs for some water. As I reached the landing, I heard voices from the living room.

"I've already prepared the deed transfer for this estate," my father was saying. "It will be Laura's dowry when she marries into the Schroder family."

"Wonderful," my stepmother said excitedly. "That will show the Schroders how much we value Laura."

I couldn't take it anymore.

This estate was designed by my mother. Every inch of it was filled with memories of her. The trees in the garden, the corners of every room—they were my entire childhood.

I stormed into the living room. "What gives you the right? My mother designed this estate!"

My father and stepmother looked at me without a hint of guilt.

"The legal owner of this property is me," my father said coldly. "I can do whatever I want with it."

My stepmother smirked. "Alessia, since you gave up the engagement, you have to face the consequences. Besides, you almost killed Laura last night. Consider this compensation."

"She deserved it! She insulted my mother first!"

As we argued, Laura came slowly down the stairs, looking frail.

"Father, please don't blame my sister," she said softly. "She was probably just upset."

She walked over and took my arm, pretending to make peace. "Sister, let's not fight anymore, okay?" But as she leaned in, she whispered viciously in my ear, "Don't worry. Once I take over, I'll get rid of everything of your mother's. Even her grave..."

Rage consumed me. I tried to rip my arm away.

But in that instant, Laura cried out "Ah!" and threw herself backward, falling to the floor.

"Laura!" my stepmother screamed, rushing to her side.

Tears streamed down Laura's face as she looked at my father. "Father, I just lost my balance. Please don't blame sister..."

My father's face was purple with rage. "Look at your sister, then look at you! When will you stop hurting her?"

He didn't give me a chance to explain. He walked to the wall, took down the horsewhip hanging there, and brought it down hard across my back.

CRACK!

The pain was searing, white-hot. It nearly buckled my knees, but I bit my tongue and refused to make a sound. My eyes were locked on Laura, still "sobbing" on the floor.

She looked at me and a slow, triumphant smile spread across her face.