Chapter 2

The live-streaming blogger waved my student ID triumphantly.

"Guys, look at how cunning this mistress is. Caught red-handed, and she’s still lying—claims she’s her lover’s sister. Clara, a sophomore at Kingsley College of Design. Different last names, and she thinks we’ll actually buy that garbage?"

Panic surged through me as she broadcasted my personal information to the world. I lunged to grab the ID, but two women immediately pinned my arms back.

Vanessa, clearly feeling humiliated by what she thought was a lie, slapped me twice. The sharp cracks echoed across the room, leaving my cheeks burning. Stars exploded in my vision, and the metallic taste of blood pooled in my mouth.

"You little bitch. You think you can play me? I'll tear you apart."

I was held too tightly to even squirm.

"We really are siblings," I pleaded, but my words fell on deaf ears. Their greedy eyes were already glued to the villa’s opulent decor.

"Julian really splurged on his little pet," Vanessa hissed, her gaze sweeping the room with malicious intent. "Smash it. Let’s give the viewers a real show."

"Drop a big rocket in the chat, everyone! The demolition live stream starts right now!"

The interior design of this house was my wedding gift to my older brother. I had poured my heart into every detail, from sketching the initial drafts to carefully selecting the design firm. For over half a year, I had spent every spare moment supervising the contractors. Hearing them casually order the destruction of the house sent me into a frantic panic.

"Stop! Don’t do this—it’s my work!" I wrenched myself free just enough to claw bloody streaks into my captors’ hands. They cursed loudly, slamming me back down and pressing me harder against the floor.

I didn't care about the money. It was the destruction of my hard work that broke my heart.

My desperation only seemed to egg them on. In an instant, the sickening sounds of shattering glass and breaking wood filled the room. Within minutes, the beautiful house was reduced to a chaotic mess. The state-of-the-art television was smashed to pieces, the custom leather sofa was slashed to ribbons, and an antique vase lay in jagged shards across the floor.

"You’re insane. I’m calling the police," I spat, fury grinding my teeth together.

The threat reached my captors, but they only laughed.

"Police? For a homewrecker? This is family business. We’re Vanessa's people, and we're here to set things right." They shoved me roughly, pinching and twisting my skin until I curled into a defensive ball.

"Wait—someone in the chat is saying this painting is a masterpiece? Four hundred million?" The streamer’s exaggerated gasp suddenly snagged my attention.

"Keep your hands off that painting. You won't be able to afford the damage—it’s worth five hundred million," I warned them.

"Julian wouldn’t blow that kind of cash on a real painting for a side piece," one woman scoffed. "It has to be a fake."

"Even if it is, look at how worked up she is. It must be valuable enough," another chimed in, lingering dangerously close to the canvas.

"Leave it alone," I begged. "If you ruin it, you’ll be paying off the debt for the rest of your lives."

My brother had purchased that painting anonymously at an auction, and he had specifically asked me to hang it in his new home.

Hearing my defense of the artwork only made Vanessa angrier.

"I asked Julian for a diamond ring worth fifty million, and he refused to buy it for me. Yet he's willing to drop five hundred million on a lousy painting for you? You really deserve to die."

She turned around and shrieked at the group gathered in front of the artwork. "Destroy it. Now."

"Guys, come watch us step all over a world-famous painting! Isn't this exciting?" the streamer yelled to her audience.

They ruthlessly tore the painting from the wall, pried off the ornate frame, and slammed their dirty heels directly into the canvas—the masterpiece created by my brother’s favorite artist. I could only pray silently that a skilled restorer might somehow be able to fix the footprints in the future.

"Get the scissors. Expensive art must mean expensive love, right? Let’s cut her precious token to ribbons."

Watching them defile the painting, all the fight drained out of me.

"Vanessa, you're going to regret this."

Hadn’t my brother always described her as gentle and angelic? Did he have any idea what kind of monster she had actually become?