Chapter 3

Corinne POV

The sterile smell of the hospital clinging to my clothes, I stepped out of the procedure room, a dull ache throbbing in my lower abdomen. The decision had been mine, made with cold, clear resolve, a final severance from a future Grant had already erased. My phone buzzed in my hand, pulling me from my daze. It was my mother.

"Corinne, it' s Aubrie," her voice was strained, thick with tears. "Something terrible has happened."

My heart seized. Aubrie, my little sister, my bright, vulnerable Aubrie, who was just starting her career, full of dreams. Grant had always dismissed her, seeing her as another one of my responsibilities, a drain on my time. If I ever needed to help her, he' d subtly, or not so subtly, remind me of my own obligations to our life, his career. Now, with him out of the picture, the guilt of leaving her behind gnawed at me.

Before I could even process my mother' s words, a sharp, familiar ringtone pierced the air. Grant' s mother. My ex-mother-in-law. Even in my current state, I braced myself.

"Corinne, what is this nonsense I' m hearing?" Her voice, sharp and accusatory, cut through the phone. "Divorce? Are you out of your mind? Grant is a successful man, a catch! And you just throw it all away?"

"Mother Sloan, I think that' s between Grant and me," I said, my voice flat.

"Between you? No, dear, it' s about the family name, the legacy! You need to go back to him, apologize, make things right. A woman' s place is by her husband' s side, supporting him. What do you think you' ll do without him? You' re nothing without Grant." Her words were a familiar, insidious drip of poison. "And don' t think I don' t know about that little intern. Kylee is a sweet girl, very ambitious, fits in perfectly with Grant' s image. She understands his world. Much better than you ever did, honestly. She' s a smart girl, always so keen to learn from Grant."

My blood ran cold. She knew. She had known all along about Kylee, and she approved. It wasn' t just Grant' s betrayal, it was his entire family' s complicity. They saw Kylee as an upgrade, a shinier accessory for their golden boy.

"Perhaps you should worry about your son' s image, then," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "Because right now, it' s not looking so good." And with that, I hung up. The line went dead, symbolizing the final severing of ties.

I called my mother back, my hands shaking. "Mom, what happened with Aubrie?"

Her voice was choked with sobs. "She... she was assaulted, Corinne. By her boss. Keven Bauer. He' s a monster. He used his position... took advantage of her..."

My vision blurred. Aubrie. My sweet, innocent sister. This couldn' t be happening. "Mom, where is she? I' m coming."

I found Aubrie curled up in a ball on her bed, her eyes red and swollen, her body trembling. My heart broke into a million pieces. She was so small, so fragile.

"Corinne," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don' t know what to do. He said... he said he' d ruin me if I told anyone. He' s so powerful."

"We' ll fight him, Aubrie," I said, stroking her hair. "We' ll get justice. Grant... Grant will know what to do. He' s the best lawyer."

Aubrie looked up at me, a flicker of hope, but then it dimmed. "But... he' s busy, isn' t he? With his important cases. And now with... Kylee..."

"No," I insisted, pushing down my own bitterness. "He won' t turn his back on family. I' ll go to him. I' ll make him help."

The next morning, armed with a glimmer of hope for Aubrie, I drove to Grant' s law firm. The imposing glass tower gleamed in the morning sun, a monument to ambition and power. Inside, the lobby buzzed with a controlled chaos of assistants, clients, and junior lawyers.

I knew Grant' s rules. No unscheduled visits. No personal interruptions during business hours. But this wasn' t personal. This was life or death for my sister.

I approached the reception, stating my name. The receptionist, a new face who didn' t recognize me, told me Mr. Sloan was in a meeting and had a packed schedule. I explained the urgency, that it was a family matter. She finally agreed to relay a message. I took a seat in the plush waiting area, surrounded by nervous-looking clients.

An hour passed. Then another. I watched the clock, my anxiety growing with each tick. Aubrie was at home, alone, broken.

Suddenly, a familiar, saccharine voice cut through the professional din. "Morning, everyone! Is Mr. Sloan in yet?"

Kylee. She waltzed in, her designer bag slung over her shoulder, a dazzling smile on her face. She greeted Grant' s assistant like an old friend, a quick, intimate whisper passing between them. Then, without a glance at the waiting room full of clients, she walked straight to Grant' s office door, knocked once, and let herself in.

My blood ran cold. Just like that. No appointment, no waiting. Just a casual stroll into his private sanctum.

A few minutes later, Grant' s assistant emerged, looking apologetic. "Mr. Sloan has a... very urgent, unforeseen matter with a client. He' ll be tied up indefinitely. We recommend rescheduling." She avoided my gaze.

I felt a fresh wave of nausea. Unforeseen matter. Right.