Chapter 4
507 Words
But my wrist was suddenly grabbed by a big hand, crushing and unrelenting. It was Julian. He shoved me so hard I hit the display counter. Pain ripped through my waist and warm blood seeped under my skin as tears blurred my eyes.
Julian pulled Siana into his arms and looked at me with pure disgust. "Serena, are you out of your mind? You're attacking people now?"
"She stole my mother's keepsake and made up lies about her!" I yelled back, shaking with rage.
"It's just a cheap necklace." Julian took out a thick wad of cash from his wallet. "Is this enough? Or do you want more? Stop making a scene here."
"Get out of my way!" I knocked his hand aside, and the bills flew everywhere.
At that moment, a Tiffany sales associate hurried out and called after me, "Ms. Cape, your custom ring pickup slip is ready. It will be available next Wednesday. Please keep this receipt."
The entire place went dead silent. Every gaze locked onto that small slip of paper.
Siana's face froze for a second. Then Julian suddenly got it. He stepped forward, ripped the receipt from the staff's hand, glanced at it, and immediately laughed out loud.
"A men's wedding ring? Serena, I knew it. You still can't get over me. You fat pig, you're still obsessed with me!"
His eyes swept over me in disgust. "If you could look 100 times thinner and prettier, I might consider keeping you as a mistress."
I clenched my teeth so hard it hurt and said in rage, "That ring isn't for you!"
"Not for me?" He laughed like he had heard the joke of the century and slapped the slip against my face. "Who in all of Empire City would ever marry you? Just look at yourself!"
He ordered his men to throw me into a car and send me back to my father's house in Bricklyn District, telling Clara to watch me. I was locked in the attic, staring at the moonlight outside the window, and I actually laughed out loud.
Those idiots really thought a locked room could hold me?
That night, I texted Ethan. 20 minutes later, a black car pulled into the alley. Ethan climbed over the wall, pulled me down from the second-floor window, and took me to his Crownhattan penthouse.
That night, while scrolling through my phone, I realized I had been completely torn apart online.
#SerenaCapeStoleHerSister'sNecklace
#IllegitimateSister
#TheFatPigShouldDie
The hashtags were dominating the X trending list. Clips from Siana's livestream had already been reposted across t****k, racking up over a hundred million views. The comment sections were flooded with insults directed at me.
A: [Siana is so pitiful.]
B: [Why won't this sister just die?]
Ethan said he would release a clarification video from his own account. With over sixty million followers, he could flip the entire situation in five minutes. I stopped him.
"Let them climb a little higher first," I said with a cold laugh. "The higher they go, the worse they crash."
- Writer
