Chapter 7
A searing pain erupted across my cheek, but it was nothing compared to the rage burning in Scarlett’s eyes.
“Finally!” she screamed, her voice jagged and wild. “I don’t have to play pretend anymore!”
Her face contorted into a grotesque mask of fury. “Do you even realize how much I despise you, Elara Winters, you perfect little
princess?”
Her shrill words reverberated through the lobby, drawing the gaze of several passersby.
“I loathe your perfect family! I despise your pristine background! I hate how everything comes to you effortlessly!” she spat, and I
listened, my heart fracturing with every word.
“Damian was supposed to belong to me! The throne of the queen was mine!” Scarlett’s voice rose higher, raw and hysterical.
“But then you arrived, St. Elara, and charmed him with your wide–eyed innocence and your relentless kindness!”
“I never-”
“You did!” she cut me off, venom dripping from every syllable. “You stole everything from him! His love, his attention, his promises!
And me? I was left scavenging scraps of what was rightfully mine!”
A memory six years past flared vividly. Scarlett had called me from a casino, drunk and trembling, confessing she had killed a man
who had tried to assault her. It was self–defense, but his mafia ties tangled the situation beyond simple law. I hadn’t hesitated–every
connection my father had was mobilized. Judges, lawyers, police. It took a full year to erase the shadows of that night.
“It cost me Paris,” I whispered, hollow. “It cost me my dream.”
The head designer of Chanel had personally invited me. There was only one spot, but I stayed. I stayed to save my best friend.
“Does Alexander Cheney ring a bell?” I asked softly, eyes locked on hers.
Her face froze, and I continued, “You have no idea what I sacrificed to protect you.”
“But I never regretted it. Not until now.”
“That’s different!” she spat. “What could you possibly give up? You already have it all…”
“How is it different?” My voice trembled, thin and brittle. “I treated you like a sister, and you treated me like an enemy.”
“Because you’re perfect!” Scarlett shrieked, voice raw, “Your goodness shines a spotlight on all my flaws! Your purity makes me feel
filthy! I’m done living in your shadow!”
Tears blurred my vision–not from the slap, but from utter disappointment.
“Scarlett-”
“Don’t say my name!” she shrieked. “I hate you! I hate your very existence!”
I looked at the girl I once loved–the one who saved my life, my best friend, the person I would have moved mountains for. And now
she loathed me. Simply because I was good. Because I loved her.
“You get it now.” I raised my hand and struck her. Crack! Harder than she had hit me. Scarlett staggered, her cheek instantly reddening.
“Scarlett Black,” I said, my voice broken yet unyielding. “We were never sisters. And now, we are nothing.”
Chapter 7
She clutched her face, disbelief frozen on her features.
Then Damian appeared.
“Elara!” He ran to us, panic written across his face. “What’s happening?”
I looked at them both: the liar and the lunatic.
“Nothing,” I said, wiping the last tears. “Just saying goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” Damian stammered, panic rising. “You can’t-”
“I can do whatever I want,” I cut him off. “You two deserve each other. A liar and a psycho. A perfect match made in hell.”
Behind me, I heard Damian’s roar and Scarlett’s sobs. I didn’t care.
I left the car Damian had gifted me. As I stepped out of the estate gates, the sunlight felt blinding, almost purifying.
I had no destination. My world had crumbled. My love had been a farce. My friendship, a lie. I had nothing.
“Elara.” A familiar voice pulled me back.
I turned. A black Rolls–Royce idled at the roadside. A tall figure emerged, draped in a dark gray suit, silver hair glinting. His gaze was
tender yet commanding. Four bodyguards flanked him.
He opened his arms, eyes heavy with concern. “I’m here, baby. Daddy’s got you. We’re going home.”
The dam within me shattered.
I ran into him, collapsing into his embrace. “Dad!”
