Chapter 4

As David turned his back, a loud, distressed howl filled the apartment. Lucky, frantic in Chloe's grasp, thrashed wildly. His claws, sharp as tiny razors, raked across Chloe's arm.

"Ah! It hurts so much!" she shrieked, dropping the cat in shock.

Lucky didn't hesitate. He shot across the floor like a white bullet and disappeared back into my bedroom.

David spun around, his eyes locking on the thin red scratches welling up with blood on Chloe's pale skin. The sight seemed to flip a switch in his brain. His face went from triumphant to murderous in a second. He went berserk.

He pointed a trembling finger at me, then barked an order to the security guard who had followed him in. "Go get Lucky! Sarah must have drugged it to make it do this to Chloe. That wicked woman!"

He had completely lost his mind. He was creating a fantasy where I was a villainous mastermind who drugged cats to attack my rivals.

I moved instinctively, spreading my arms to block the path to my bedroom. "You will not touch my cat."

It was useless. He shoved me aside again, with the same casual, thoughtless brutality as at the gala. I stumbled but caught myself on the wall, the anger burning in my chest hotter than the pain. He didn't even glance at me. He scooped a sobbing Chloe into his arms and stormed towards the door.

"Get the cat and bring it to my mansion," he ordered his guard over his shoulder. "Now."

He was just as tyrannical, just as unhinged, as he had been in our past life.

My assistant, Amy, who had watched the entire scene unfold with wide, horrified eyes, rushed to my side.

"Miss, what should we do?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "Should we inform David' s mother?"

My head throbbed, a dull ache that matched the one in my heart. "No... don' t bother her with this. He' s her son. She has enough to deal with." I took a deep breath. "He probably won' t do anything to Lucky. He thinks the cat is his precious memory."

That night, news spread through the city like wildfire. David Chen had publicly announced that even though Chloe was officially his mistress, he would be bringing her into his home with an elaborate procession, following all the customs and luxuries reserved for a true wife. It was a slap in the face to his mother, to tradition, and to me.

The next morning, as if on cue, my father and his mistress, Mrs. Zhou, arrived at my apartment. My father made no effort to hide his intentions.

"Your sister is about to marry Mr. Chen," he said, stroking his beard with a self-satisfied air. "Her dowry must be generous. Your mother prepared a lot of good things for you when she was alive, didn' t she? Give them to Chloe. I' ll prepare your dowry when you get married."

I couldn' t help but sneer. "Do you believe that yourself, Father?"

He chuckled, a greasy, unpleasant sound. "Even if I don' t prepare it for you, David' s mother will. You' re her goddaughter. Why do you need two shares of a dowry? It' s better to give your mother' s to Chloe. Mr. Chen will appreciate your kindness, and your sister will be in a position to help you in the future. What' s wrong with that logic?"

Mrs. Zhou, Chloe' s mother, chimed in, her voice syrupy sweet. "Yes, Sarah, dear. Mr. Chen said yesterday that he would never marry a proper wife. So Chloe will be, for all intents and purposes, Mr. Chen' s wife, David' s mother' s sister-in-law. Don' t be foolish now."

My father had betrayed my mother in life, and now he was trying to steal her legacy for the daughter of his mistress. The dishonor was staggering. I looked at him, tears welling in my eyes despite my best efforts.

"Father, how can you do this to me? Aren' t you afraid Mother will know in the afterlife?"

He waved her words away with an impatient hand. "You' ve always wanted your mother' s memorial tablet moved to the Evergreen Cemetery, out of the Miller family shrine. I know you resent me. Now I agree to it, but on the condition of your dowry. Be my dutiful daughter... will you give it?"

He was using my love for my mother to blackmail me.

I clenched my jaw, forcing the tears back. The initial hurt slowly receded, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. This man did not deserve to be my father. He did not deserve my tears.

"Okay," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "I' ll give it."

It was just a dowry. Just things. But my mother' s dignity, her final resting place, was everything. She had been a respected woman from a powerful family, and to be honored outside the family that had caused her so much pain was a rare and significant tribute.

It was a price I was willing to pay.