Black Wedding

Chapter 3

I hung up the call and shoved my phone straight into my pocket.

Three years ago, Silas's cash flow snapped, leaving him on the brink of total bankruptcy.

I was the one who hid my true identity, pulled every string of the Sinclair family's century-old network, and crushed every last one of his competitors.

I single-handedly shoved him straight onto the throne as the new top dog of Ashvale's elite social circle.

He was convinced he got there on his own natural talent and his amazing abilities.

He never had a clue that without the Sinclair family's approval, he would not even have been good enough to shine those capitalists' shoes.

But now... I was done playing this stupid charity game.

A black Maybach glided to a smooth stop right in front of me.

The window rolled down, and Clara's perfectly made-up face peeked out.

"Iris, why are you standing out here all alone in the cold wind?" she cooed.

"Really, Silas is so mean, how could he let you walk away with nothing?"

I just stared at her and said nothing.

She pushed open the car door and stepped out, clutching the folder that had belonged to me in her hand.

She said, "But honestly, Iris, this design draft of yours is so ugly, is it not?"

She deliberately let her hand shake, dropped the folder straight onto the ground, then brought her foot down hard right on top of it.

"Oops, my bad. I just could not hold onto it," she trilled.

She covered her mouth with one hand and let out a fake, breathy little gasp of surprise.

I looked down at the dark, muddy footprint stamped right across that design draft.

My grandmother had drawn it line by line, just for me, tailored to me.

I lifted my eyes back to her, my voice ice-cold, and said, "Pick it up."

Clara froze for a split second, then her eyes instantly welled up with red, teary rims, all soft and wronged.

She whimpered, "Iris, why are you being so mean to me? I did not do it on purpose."

She continued, "It is fine. I will just pay you for a new one, okay?"

Silas's voice rumbled from the entrance of the villa. "What is going on here?"

He stepped over and yanked Clara behind his back in one protective motion. "Iris, are you bullying Clara again?"

It was the same old story.

Every single time Clara and I ended up in the same spot, Silas automatically took her side and blamed me.

No matter how many times I explained, it never changed a thing.

I pointed at the design draft on the ground. "She dropped it on purpose."

Silas did not even bother glancing down. He just let out a cold sneer. "It is just a lousy old design sketch. Who cares?"

He added, "I will pay you ten times whatever it is worth. Stop moping around here like someone just died."

He demanded, "Don't you know Clara has a class to teach this afternoon? If you ruin her mood, can you even take responsibility for that?"

I stared at his arrogant, self-righteous face and suddenly laughed. "Ten times?"

I said, "Silas, you cannot afford it."

He looked at me like I had just told the biggest joke he had ever heard. "I cannot afford it? Iris, have you gone crazy from poverty?"

He asked, "The five million I wired to your card is not enough to buy this stupid scrap of paper?"

He pulled a checkbook out of his pocket, scrawled a string of numbers on it, the pen scratching across the paper, and shoved it toward me.

He said, "Take it. That is more than enough to buy you a nice little house back in your hick hometown."

I did not reach for the check. I let it flutter down and land on the pavement instead.

I just stared straight at him, my voice ice-cold, and said, "Silas, this is the last time I will tolerate you."

He froze.

For a split second, the sharp chill in my words actually caught him off guard.

"Iris, what kind of act are you putting on now?" he scoffed.

He added, "You think a few harsh lines will grab my attention, huh?"

He turned to Clara, his voice softening into molasses. "Come on, Clara, let's go. Ignore this crazy woman."

Clara shot me a smug, gloating look before looping her arm through his and heading for the car door.

I stepped right in front of the door, blocking their path. "Stop."

I said, "Wipe that footprint off my design drawing."

That was the last straw. Silas's patience snapped clean in two.

He lifted his hand sharply, a cold signal to his men.

Two huge, brawny guards lunged forward instantly, clamping down on my shoulders roughly.

"Iris, you want it the hard way, huh?" Silas snarled. "Since you are so obsessed with this lousy piece of paper, you can stay here and scrub it to your heart's content."

He glared at his guards and barked out the order. "Hold her down. Make her kneel on the ground and wipe that footprint off bit by bit with an eraser."

He finished, "Only when it is clean can she get the hell out of here."