The rain had stopped, but the weight of grief still pressed down on Ivy's chest like a stone. She sat in the back of the black sedan, her hazel eyes staring blankly at the familiar iron gates of her family's mansion. The funeral was over. Her parents were gone forever.

"Miss Ivy, we're here," Thomas, the family driver, said softly from the front seat.

Ivy nodded, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders as she moved. Even in mourning, she was breathtaking. Her fair skin seemed to glow despite her sorrow, and her perfectly curved figure was elegant in the simple black dress she wore. But today, her beauty felt like a burden. What good was being flawless when the people who loved you most were buried six feet under?

As Thomas opened her door, Ivy stepped out on her long, straight legs. That's when she saw it. A pink suitcase sitting right outside the front door of her home. Her home.

"What the hell?" she whispered.

Standing beside the suitcase was her cousin Maren, arms crossed, wearing a smile that made Ivy's blood run cold. It wasn't a welcoming smile. It was evil. Calculating. Triumphant.

"Maren?" Ivy's voice was shaky. "What's the meaning of this?"

Maren's smile widened. "What do you think you see, cousin?"

"I see my suitcase outside my house where it doesn't belong," Ivy said, her voice getting stronger. "And I see you looking at me like you've lost your mind."

"You're not welcome here anymore," Maren said coldly.

"What do you mean?" Ivy's voice rose, confusion and anger mixing together.

Maren laughed, a harsh sound that cut through the evening air. "Oh, sweet, naive Ivy. This is my house now."

"This is my parents' house. My house. If there's anyone not welcome here, it's you," Ivy shot back, her hazel eyes flashing with anger.

"You must be dreaming because I am now the new princess of this house," Maren said with a cruel smile.

The words hit Ivy like a physical blow. She staggered back a step, her hand clutching her chest. "Maren, I just lost my parents. This is no time for pranks. Please."

Maren threw her head back and laughed hysterically. The sound was ugly, filled with years of hidden resentment. "Pranks? Oh, Ivy, you really don't get it, do you? This isn't a prank. This is reality. Your reality."

"Stop it!" Ivy's voice cracked. "My parents just died! How can you be so cruel?"

"Your parents are dead," Maren said coldly, her laughter stopping abruptly. "And now everything they had belongs to someone who deserves it. Someone who wasn't handed everything on a silver platter just for being pretty."

Ivy felt rage building in her chest. She ignored Maren and marched toward the front door, her heels clicking on the stone pathway. "I'm going inside. We'll talk about whatever this is tomorrow when you've come to your senses."

But as she reached for the door handle, Maren grabbed her arm and shoved her backward. Hard.

Ivy stumbled, her slim waist twisting as she fought for balance. She fell to the ground, her hands scraping against the rough stone. Pain shot through her palm where the skin tore.

"Stay back!" Maren screamed. "This isn't your home anymore!"

Ivy looked down at her bleeding hand, then up at her cousin's twisted face. Something inside her snapped. She rose to her feet slowly, her hazel eyes blazing with fury.

"Wake up!" she shouted, and her hand flew across Maren's face with a sharp crack.

The slap echoed in the evening air. Maren's head snapped to the side, her cheek immediately turning red.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ivy's voice was shaking with emotion. "I just lost my parents! They're dead, Maren! Dead! And you're out here playing some sick game?"

Maren's hand went to her stinging cheek. When she looked back at Ivy, her eyes were filled with pure hatred.

"How dare you," she whispered, her voice deadly quiet.

Then she reached into her jacket pocket.

Ivy watched in horror as Maren's hand emerged holding a kitchen knife. The blade gleamed in the fading daylight, sharp and threatening.

"How dare you touch me," Maren said, raising the knife between them.

Ivy stared in horror at the knife gleaming in Maren's hand. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered, taking a step back.

Maren moved toward her, the blade catching the light. "You dare lay your hands on me?"

"Maren, put that down…"

"All these years I've been by your side, playing the perfect little cousin," Maren spat, her voice dripping with venom. "We're age mates, Ivy. But you treat me like your footmat just because your parents are rich."

Ivy's hands trembled. "That's not true…"

"Now they're dead, and your property belongs to my parents. Not a dime in your name."

"What do you mean?" Ivy's voice cracked. "You must be joking, right? Maren, what has come over you? You were just crying with me at the funeral. What's with this attitude?"

Maren's laugh was cold and bitter. "That was a goodbye tear. A funeral for you, your dad, and your mom."

She began walking around Ivy like a predator circling its prey, her eyes scanning from head to toe.

"You wear designers, luxury from head to toe. You're flawlessly beautiful and were born into wealth. But what do I get? Nothing but being your sidekick and being compared to you every single day."

Ivy stared at her cousin, unable to believe what she was hearing. She scoffed. "All this resentment, Maren? And I thought I had a sister. My dad did so much for your family. His sister, your mom, your dad, he gave them everything. He put you in school with me, bought you everything he did for me. Buildings, cars, we have everything the same, just like twins. He never discriminated."

Her voice broke. "I never treated you badly, Maren. I love you as my sister."

"Sister?" Maren laughed hysterically. "You? I was always your sidekick in school. Everyone compared me to you. Everyone bullied me. They said I was a charity case, your stepping stone."

"Maren!" Ivy screamed. "I always stood up for you! I fought bullies for you! I did everything to make you happy. Why are you making me the villain?"

Tears streamed down her face. "I can't do this today. Please. I just need to be alone. I just lost my world, Maren."

She sobbed harder. "Please don't do this tonight. I'm really tired. Please."

Ivy tried to walk past Maren toward the door, but suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her scalp. Maren had grabbed her long black hair and was pulling her back.

"Let go!" Ivy screamed as she saw the knife coming toward her hair. "Let go now!"

She spun around and kicked hard, sending the knife flying from Maren's hands. It clattered across the stone pathway.

"You crazy bitch!" Maren lunged at her.

Both girls crashed to the ground, rolling and fighting. Ivy's dress tore as she struggled to get on top. Despite her grief, her adrenaline kicked in, and she managed to pin Maren down.

"Stop this!" Ivy panted, holding Maren's wrists. "Just stop!"

"Get off me!" Maren bucked and twisted beneath her.

Suddenly, the front door burst open. Ivy's uncle and aunt rushed out with several maids behind them.

"What's going on here?" Uncle Richard shouted.

"Girls! Stop this immediately!" Aunt Linda screamed.

The maids quickly separated them, pulling Ivy off Maren. Both girls were breathing hard, their clothes disheveled and hair messy.

Maren immediately ran to her mother, tears streaming down her face. "Mom, she attacked me! She slapped me and then tried to kill me!"

"What?" Ivy gasped, struggling against the maid holding her. "That's not what happened!"

Aunt Linda's face twisted with rage as she looked at Ivy. Without warning, her hand flew across Ivy's face with a resounding crack. The slap was so hard that Ivy's head snapped to the side.

"How dare you!" Aunt Linda shoved Ivy backward. "How dare you hurt the real heir of the Dawson family, you adopted bastard!"

Ivy's world stopped spinning. The word "adopted" echoed in her mind like a death sentence.

"Adopted?" Her voice was barely a whisper, like a child who had just been told Santa wasn't real. "Did you... did you just call me adopted? I... I don't..."

"Yes, you little fool," Linda spat, her face twisted with years of hidden hatred. She looked at Maren's scratched face and her voice became venomous. "How dare you touch my daughter? The only real bloodline of the Dawson family."

Ivy felt like the ground beneath her feet had cracked open. Her beautiful hazel eyes filled with confusion and terror. "What do you mean adopted? Aunt Linda, what are you saying?"

Linda's smile was cruel as she stretched her hand toward her husband. "Richard, give me the papers."

Uncle Richard hesitated for a moment, his face showing a flicker of guilt, before handing over a manila envelope. Linda ripped it open and threw the documents at Ivy's feet like she was throwing scraps to a dog.

"See for yourself, princess."

Ivy's hands shook so violently she could barely pick up the papers. The words blurred through her tears, but one line stood out like a knife to her heart: DNA compatibility: 0%.

"This... this is fake," she stammered, her voice breaking like glass. "This can't be real. My parents... they would have told me. They loved me!"

"Your parents?" Maren laughed coldly. "You mean the people who felt sorry for a dirty little orphan?"

The papers fell from Ivy's numb fingers as she stared at the three people she had called family her entire life. She looked like a beautiful broken doll, her perfect features crumbling with devastation.

"This is not true," she whispered, then louder, "This is NOT TRUE!"

She collapsed to her knees on the cold stone, her dress pooling around her like black water. "You made this up. Please tell me you made this up."

Like a lost child, she crawled across the rough stones to her aunt's feet, not caring that the sharp edges cut her knees through her torn stockings.

"Please, Aunt Linda. You're like a mother to me. You held me when I had nightmares. You braided my hair. Please tell me this is all a terrible prank." Her voice was breaking with every word. "Please tell me this is a nightmare and when I wake up, my parents will be alive and everything will be okay."

Linda's face showed no mercy as she kicked Ivy away from her feet like she was kicking a stray dog.

"Don't you dare touch me with those filthy, lying hands!"

Ivy hit the ground hard, her hip crashing against the stone steps. Pain shot through her body, but it was nothing compared to the agony in her heart.

"I've already transferred power of attorney for all of your so-called parents' property to my name," Linda said with satisfaction. "Every single penny, every building, every car. Thank God we're finally getting rid of you. At least I'm letting you keep one suitcase ang your car. I could have thrown you out with nothing."

"No, please!" Ivy sobbed, crawling back across the stones. Her knees were bleeding now, leaving small red stains on the pathway. "Please, you can't throw me out like this! I have nowhere to go! My parents are dead! You're all I have left!"

She grabbed Linda's legs again, her tears mixing with the blood from her scraped hands. "Is this because I hit Maren? I'm sorry! I was just confused and scared! Please don't punish me like this!"

She turned to Maren, her beautiful face streaked with tears and dirt. She pressed her palms together like she was praying to a god who had abandoned her.

"Maren, please. We grew up together. We shared secrets, we shared dreams. Don't let them throw me out. Just let me stay in the servants' quarters. I'll do anything."

Her voice cracked completely. "I... I can't do this today. My parents were buried six hours ago. Six hours, Maren! My world ended today. Can't you have mercy? Can't you be the light in this darkness? Please, I'm begging you."

Maren looked down at her cousin with pure disgust and pushed her hands away like she was touching something dirty.

"At least you get to keep your precious car and phone. That's more than you deserve. So pick up your pathetic little suitcase and get the hell out of my sight."

She leaned down, her voice becoming a whisper filled with venom. "I packed some of your old rags. I was being generous. The rest of your designer clothes? They're mine now. And if I ever see you near this mansion again, I'll make sure you disappear permanently. Go back to whatever gutter they found you in, Ivy. The princess act is over."

The words hit Ivy like physical blows. She watched through blurred vision as her family - the only family she had ever known turned their backs on her and walked into the house that had been her home for twenty-one years.

The maids lingered for a moment, their faces showing pity and shame. But Linda's voice cut through the night air like a whip.

"I dare any of you to help her! Anyone who shows her kindness will be fired immediately!"

The maids quickly looked away and scurried into the house. The massive front door slammed shut, and Ivy heard the locks clicking into place.

She sat on the cold stone for what felt like hours, crying until her throat was raw and her eyes were swollen shut. Her beautiful black hair was tangled and dirty, her dress was torn at the knees, and her hands were still bleeding from when she fell earlier.

When she finally stood up, her legs were shaking so badly she could barely walk. She picked up her single suitcase, everything she owned in the world now fit in one small bag , and walked to her car.

The black luxury sedan was the only thing that was truly hers. She had bought it with money from her modeling jobs, never knowing that one day it would be her only possession.

She didn't care about the money or the properties. She would have given it all away gladly if she could just have her parents back. But being thrown out of the house where she had laughed and cried and dreamed, where every room held memories of the people who raised her, on the very day she buried them, that cruelty was beyond forgiveness.

She started the car with trembling hands and drove away from the iron gates that had always meant safety and home. Now they looked like prison bars, keeping her out of the only life she had ever known.

She drove through the empty streets with no destination, no plan, no hope. Just twenty-one years old and completely alone in the world.

Thirty minutes later, her car began to sputter and jerk. The engine made a horrible grinding noise before it died completely on a dark, deserted stretch of road.

"No, please, not now," she whispered, hitting the steering wheel with her fist. "Please, I can't handle anything else today."

She got out of the car and lifted the hood, though she had no idea what to look for. The engine was smoking and making strange clicking sounds.

That's when she heard the footsteps.

Slow, deliberate footsteps were coming from the shadows behind her.

She turned around, and her blood turned to ice.

Three tall figures emerged from the darkness, all wearing black masks that covered their faces completely. Only their eyes were visible, and they were staring at her like predators who had found their prey.