Chapter 3

Faith Cain POV:

The room was silent again, but this time it was a heavy, expectant silence. Every eye was on me, waiting. They were waiting for me to break, to deny it, to run back into Brett' s arms like I always had before.

Just then, a servant, clearly acting on Brett' s cruel cue, pushed Kaleb' s wheelchair into the center of the room. He looked just as Brett had described-pale, thin, confined to the chair. He didn't look up, his gaze fixed on his own hands resting in his lap.

A wave of smug, knowing smiles passed between Brett and his cronies. The trap was set. My humiliation was complete.

I opened my mouth, the words "I choose Kaleb" on the tip of my tongue.

But then I remembered Ferdinand's words from his study earlier that day.

"Faith," he had said, his old eyes sharp and perceptive, "I will respect your choice, no matter who it is. But this family... it is a viper's nest. When you make your announcement, do not do it in anger or haste. Let the dust settle. When the time is right, everyone will know."

I hesitated. I looked at Kaleb, so still and silent in his chair, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes as they briefly met mine. It looked like... disappointment.

Ferdinand was right. This was a game of power, and Brett had just played his hand. A public declaration now would be seen as a desperate, spiteful act. It would make me look weak, and it would put Kaleb in an even more vulnerable position. The Kline clan was vast, and every single one of them was hungry for a piece of the empire. A direct confrontation was not the way.

So, I closed my mouth. I didn't argue. I didn't defend myself.

I let them laugh.

Then, I turned and walked away.

The ride home was a silent war. Juliana sat beside me in the back of the car, preening. She kept angling her wrist, letting the diamonds on her new bracelet catch the passing streetlights. The flashes of light were sharp, almost painful, making me squint.

"You know," she said, her voice a sweet, poisonous whisper, "even if you marry him, you'll never have his heart."

To the world, Juliana was the epitome of sweetness and innocence. A social media darling with a perfectly curated life. But in private, when it was just the two of us, the mask came off.

I looked at her, at the girl I had grown up with, and the past came rushing back. The memory of my previous life was as clear as the diamond on her wrist. I remembered walking into my bedroom to find her tangled in the sheets with Brett. My husband.

She had cowered in his arms, trembling like a frightened child, and he had shielded her, glaring at me as if I were the monster. The shock had been so immense, so soul-crushing, that I had fainted on the spot.

After that, my parents had sent her to study abroad. She ended up marrying some foreign heir, her life a glittering success story while mine spiraled into a lonely, premature end.

This time, I thought, a small, secret smile playing on my lips, you can have him. I was almost curious to see how it would play out for her when she was the one shackled to him.

"You're right," I said, my voice calm. The admission seemed to surprise her.

I turned to face her fully. "What's the point of having the man if you can't have his heart?"

I reached out and patted her hand gently. "I hope you grow up quickly, Juliana. Then you can marry Brett."

I gave her my most sincere smile. "I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

She was speechless for a moment, her perfectly painted lips parted in surprise. Then, she recovered, a skeptical eyebrow raised.

"You can pretend all you want, Faith," she said with a dismissive laugh. "But I know you're just saying that. It doesn't matter. Brett loves me."

A few months passed. Thanksgiving arrived, a day for family and forced pleasantries. My father, oblivious as ever, asked me to deliver a gift to Ferdinand.

The moment I stepped into the Kline estate, I saw her. Juliana. She hadn't been home in days. She stood in the foyer, dressed in a designer gown and dripping with jewels that I knew were far beyond her allowance. She looked elegant, poised, and utterly triumphant.

She saw me and a slow, smug smile spread across her face.

"Do you like my outfit?" she asked, doing a little twirl. "Brett bought it all for me. He insisted. He said I was the only one who deserved to wear such beautiful things."

An old, familiar irritation pricked at me. I just wanted to deliver the gift and leave. I tried to step around her, but she moved to block my path.

"I just wanted to share my happiness with you, sister," she said, her voice saccharine sweet. "Why are you being so cold? I know you're jealous, but love isn't something you can control."

As she spoke, her eyes welled up with crocodile tears. It was a masterful performance.

I' d had enough. I pushed her aside, not hard, just enough to get past.

She crumpled to the floor with a theatrical gasp, the tears now flowing freely.

"Faith, you hit me!" she wailed, her voice echoing in the marble foyer. "How could you? We're sisters!"

And right on cue, as if summoned by her damsel-in-distress cry, Brett stormed into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" he roared, his face contorted in rage.

He pointed a shaking finger at me, his eyes blazing. "Are you abusing your own sister, Faith? Have you no heart?"

I looked from Brett's furious face to Juliana's sobbing form on the floor, a perfectly orchestrated tableau of betrayal and deceit.

A small, humorless laugh escaped my lips. "It's incredible," I said, shaking my head. "She's so young, and already so skilled at playing the victim."

The words were barely out of my mouth when a sharp sting exploded across my cheek.

He had slapped me.

"Don't you dare talk about her that way," he snarled, his hand still raised.

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