Chapter 3

The next morning, I started packing. I was leaving for D.C. I told my parents I wanted a change of scenery, a chance to do something useful. They agreed, relieved to get me away from the Boston gossip pages.

As I was sorting through my jewelry, Savannah walked in without knocking. She was wearing my mother's cashmere robe.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyeing the open suitcases.

"I'm leaving," I said, not looking at her.

"Good," she said. "This house is a little crowded."

She drifted over to my vanity. Her eyes landed on my grandmother's pearl necklace, a Davenport heirloom passed down for generations.

"Blake thinks these would look beautiful on me," she said, picking them up. "A symbol of me officially joining the family."

Something inside me snapped.

For ten years, I had been patient. For ten years, I had been kind. I had shared my home, my family, my life with her. And she had systematically tried to destroy me.

I stood up and walked over to her. I didn't say a word. I just snatched the pearls from her hand.

Her eyes widened in shock. "How dare you!"

"Get out of my room," I said, my voice low and dangerous.

She started to cry, the way she always did when she was caught.

"You've always bullied me! You've always been jealous of me because I was thin and pretty and you were... you!"

"I paid for your pageant coaches," I said, my voice cutting through her fake sobs. "I paid for your designer wardrobe. My father paid for your private tutors and your trips to Europe. We gave you everything."

I held up the pearls. "This, you will not have."

"Blake will buy me better ones!" she shrieked. "He loves me! He doesn't love a fat cow like you!"

"Then go ask him for them," I said calmly. "And while you're at it, you can start paying my father back for the quarter of a million dollars he's spent crafting you into the perfect Vanderbilt bride. I have the receipts."

The color drained from her face. She knew I wasn't bluffing. My father kept meticulous records of every family expense.

She stared at me, her mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out.

"Get out," I said again.

This time, she turned and fled. I closed the door behind her and locked it. I held the cool, smooth pearls in my hand. It was the first battle I had ever fought. And I had won.