He Destroyed My Life, I Found New Happiness

Chapter 2

The second I hung up the phone, I stumbled headlong into the doctor's office, begging him frantically to dig up every single record of my sister.

But every trace had been scrubbed clean, like my sister Jasmine Swift had never existed in the first place.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. How could this be the same man who once had eyes only for me, back when we first met?

How could he sacrifice the life of my own flesh and blood just to please another woman?

He wouldn't even let me have the right to mourn her!

I bent slowly to gather up all the broken shards outside the door, and squeezed them so tight my fingers ached.

My heart felt like it was being carved to pieces, slow, one slice at a time. The stabbing pain burning in my palm didn't even register next to this agony.

By the time I got back from the hospital, the sky had already swallowed all the light, turning pitch black.

The second I stepped foot inside the villa, Dylan slammed me hard against the wall.

Thick, suffocating anger rolled off him in waves, his eyes dark and venomous.

"What did you do to Chelsea? Why is the tattoo you gave her infected and inflamed?!"

I looked at him, feeling only absurdity.

"Dylan, I don't even have the right to touch her, how could I infect her?"

He didn't believe me at all. His fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to lift my head.

"Margaux, are you really that shameless? Just to get a bit of my pitiful attention, you'd use such despicable means to take revenge on her?"

I let out a self-mocking chuckle.

"Since Mr. Larc cares so much, why can't you even protect your own woman?"

My words instantly enraged him.

"Margaux! Do you think that just because your sister is dead, your debt is settled? If you want to keep your sister's ashes, then go upstairs and serve Chelsea, until I'm satisfied!"

He shoved me away the second he finished speaking, then turned and strode up the stairs to the second floor.

I snapped my head up, staring at his back in utter shock.

He was actually… blackmailing me with my own sister's ashes?

For my sister's sake, I had no other choice.

I pushed open the door to the master bedroom, and for a split second I thought I'd walked into the wrong room.

Every last piece of clothing that was mine was gone. The entire space hung heavy with Chelsea's perfume, thick and cloying.

"Can't get comfortable out in the guest room, Margaux? What a shame, Dylan decorated this master bedroom just for me. You're not mad, are you?"

Chelsea's red lips curled up into a smirk, and she kicked the broken picture frame at her foot with the toe of her shoe.

"Oh right, I dug out a bunch of old garbage earlier. If you can't sleep, why don't you try sleeping hugging your sister's memorial photo?"

I slapped her hard across the face.

Bright red blood bloomed at the corner of her mouth.

Chelsea didn't move, didn't even flinch. Instead, she violently ripped open the silk of her nightgown covering her shoulder and back, and flashed me a smile that was both innocent and twisted.

"Margaux, how about we play something a little more exciting?"

I spotted the broken scab over her tattoo, oozing bright fresh blood. A sharp gasp caught in my throat?

"Chelsea, you don't even faint at the sight of blood! Why the hell are you dead-set on coming after me?!"

She didn't answer, instead, she stepped right up to me, and without a single shred of hesitation, she sliced her blade right across the tattoo. Blood came gushing out instantly all over the floor.

"You…" I stumbled back a step on pure instinct.

A low muffled grunt tore out of her as she bit down through the searing pain, but a triumphant grin spread across her face anyway. She shoved the blood-soaked knife straight into my open palm.

The very next second, she crumpled limply to the floor.

"Chelsea!"

Almost at the exact same time, Dylan's furious roar exploded behind me.

Chelsea lifted her panicked gaze to Dylan, "Dylan! H-help… me, please."

All the life drained right out of Dylan in that instant.

It was exactly like that night years ago, when he watched his little sister fall from the safety wire.

He'd stood there helpless, watching her plunge downward, unable to do a single thing to stop it.

Right now, that same stark panic twisted Chelsea's face. Slowly, that terrified expression blurred into the one his sister had worn in her final moments.

Rage detonated inside him, swallowing every last shred of his rationality.

To him, I was just like my sister, we'd both ended up the villains who hurt the person he loved!

I stood frozen to the spot, the bloody knife still clutched in my hand, and ice seeped into every corner of my body.

In the blink of an eye, he slammed me hard against the wall.