Traded To Mr Dawson Cage

Three

I don’t remember how I got home.

All that clouded my head was… that cold, heartless man in a white suit.

'Her treatment will remain on hold.'

'Until you pay for ruining my suit.'

Just for the small stain on his damn suit?

Who the blazing hell is he?!

I tossed my bag on the chair with frustration.

I stared at nothing for a moment before I broke.

I sank to the floor with my back against the door, and the tears rushed uncontrollably down my face.

My whole body shook. “I’m trying…” my voice cracked. “I’m trying so hard…”

But it didn’t matter.

Minutes passed or maybe hours, I didn’t know.

Eventually, I dragged myself up and stumbled into my room and saw the letter and the invite card still lying on my bed.

I stared blankly at it before I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

“Of course,” I muttered. “Why not? One more crazy thing.”

But what choice did I have?

I’d lost my job.

Wilson was gone.

The hospital was waiting.

And that man made it clear I had nothing left to bargain with.

So I might as well ask her for mom's hospital bills when I see her.

I opened my closet and stared at the few clothes I owned but there was nothing to wear to an “exclusive event.”

My eyes drifted to my mother’s old things and soon I pulled out one of her dresses.

It looked a little worn and torn at the side but I wore it anyway even though it didn't fit perfectly.

"It's just a meeting." I muttered to myself.

***

The venue was… overwhelming and people were dressed like they stepped out of magazines.

At the entrance, I handed over the invitation with trembling hands.

The guard looked at it, and then at me.

For a moment, I thought he’d laugh or send me away. But instead, he stepped aside.

“Go ahead.”

I blinked in surprise and walked in.

Inside, I felt judged and intimidated by the lavish setting.

I lowered my gaze intending to make myself smaller.

“Wow.”

The voice said out of nowhere.

I turned slightly to see a young woman standing in front of me with perfect hair, makeup and a dress that probably cost more than everything I owned combined.

She looked me up and down and smirked.

“You look like you got lost on your way to a different event,” she said.

I shook my head. “I... I have an invitation,” I said quietly.

“Clearly,” she replied, her tone dripping with amusement. “Otherwise security wouldn’t have let you in looking like… trash.”

My fingers clenched at my sides.

She tilted her head slightly. “Gwen Drake?”

My heart skipped. “…Yes.”

“Good,” she said simply. “Follow me.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she added, already turning. “We don’t have much time before our exclusive guest arrives.”

“Exclusive guest?”

She glanced over her shoulder briefly. “Mr. Dawson Cage.”

The name meant nothing to me.

Then I followed her.

Through hallways that got quieter the further we went.

My mind raced.

Who is this woman? How does she know me? Is this about the letter? Is she...

We stopped in front of a door.

She opened it without knocking. “Go in,” she said.

I hesitated for half a second, then I stepped inside and froze at the sight of Wilson aggressively f*****g another woman from behind.

My heart dropped instantly.

No, no, this can't be happening...

They broke apart at the sight of me.

Wilson’s expression shifted from surprise… to something else I couldn’t quite place.

“Gwen?” he said.

I couldn’t even respond.

This was the woman he broke up with me to be with?

The woman in question looked at me like I was merely an insignificant pebble trespassing on her property.

She ran her hands through her sleek black hair and made to zip up her dress when I saw an ugly scar etched on her back.

But before I could fully process it, she approached me and spoke.

“Might as well make proper introductions,” she said smoothly.

My heart slammed against my chest.

“My name is Morgana Snow.”

What?

“Morgana…” I repeated, barely audible.

Her smile widened slightly. “Yes,” she said. “I'm your older sister.”

I took a step back as my gaze drifted to Wilson.

He f****d my 'sister'?

“Wilson…?” The name slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

He didn’t even look guilty.

“Gwen,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t...”

“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t even try.”

I shuddered like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs.

Wilson scoffed lightly. “You’re acting like we’re still together.”

His words hit me but I just let out a shaky breath and stepped back again. “You know what? Fine, I don’t even care anymore.”

That was a lie.

I was burning with rage that I couldn't express without looking weak and pathetic.

So I decided to just leave.

I turned and walked out immediately.

“Gwen!”

I ignored him.

I pushed through the hallway as a tear slipped down my cheek.

“Gwen.” Her voice.

I stopped on my tracks and turned to look at her.

Morgana stood a few steps away before she came to block my way to the exit, completely composed, like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on my life.

“Leaving already?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “I thought you came here for something.”

“I didn’t come for this,” I said slowly.

“No?” she said, a faint smirk forming. “Then why did you come?”

I didn’t answer because somehow, she already knew.

“I mean,” she continued, stepping closer with her heels clicking softly, “it’s not like you suddenly developed a taste for events like this.”

She didn’t even try to apologize for f*****g my boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend.

But they both owed me an apology.

My fingers curled into fists.

“Say what you want,” I muttered. “I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” she repeated with amusement. “So soon? After all that effort to get in?”

I tried to step past her but she blocked me.

“Let me go,” my voice cracked slightly from too many emotions.

“Not yet,” she replied calmly. “We haven’t talked.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, I think there is,” she said, her eyes locking onto mine. “Especially since you came here to beg me for money.”

Her words hit like a slap but I tried to deny it probably to earn me a little dignity.

“I didn’t...”

“Please,” she cut in, rolling her eyes slightly. “Do you really want to pretend?”

She studied me for a moment, then sighed softly.

“I did a background check on you,” she said casually.

That made me freeze. “What?”

“I had to,” she shrugged. “I don’t invite strangers into my life without knowing who they truly are.”

“And?” I asked quietly.

“And,” she continued, “we’re not really sisters.”

I blinked. “What…?”

“Not biological, at least,” she clarified. “We're step-sisters.”