Chapter 13: Family Ties, Family Lies

At noon, someone I never wanted to see walked through the door.

Olivia Callahan—Ethan’s little sister.

Back in high school, she’d pretended to be my friend, even stood up to Ethan a couple times. I’d thought she was my lifeline. Turns out, she only did it to spite her brother. When they patched things up, she turned on me twice as hard.

She’d cornered me in the bathroom, snapped humiliating photos. All those photos ended up in Ethan’s hands.

Just seeing her face made my stomach churn.

She didn’t like me now, either. When Ethan forced me to marry him, she protested the loudest.

She crossed her arms, sneering:

"Aubrey Hayes, my brother really spoils you too much!"

"You really think you’re good enough for my brother? Dream on, Hayes. From now on, we’re enemies. Don’t think I’ll ever let you marry into this family!"

Honestly, she was as petty as a kid caught sneaking out past curfew.

...

When Ethan came home, Olivia pounced:

"Ethan, can’t you break up with this woman?"

So that was it—she just didn’t want me marrying her brother. Funny, for once we wanted the same thing.

Ethan tried to ruffle my hair. I dodged.

He dropped his gaze, voice low:

"Not a chance!"

Olivia stomped her foot, glared at me. I rolled my eyes, not caring if Ethan saw. He just chuckled.

"Bro, can you stop spoiling her so much? Look at you—what have you become for her…"

...

At dinner, Olivia kept up her commentary until Ethan snapped:

"Eat quietly!"

Silence settled, heavy as lead. I picked at my food, feeling sick.

After dinner, Ethan stepped out for a call. Just me and Olivia at the table. I tried to leave, but she stopped me.

My head spun, her face a blur. Then she flashed her claws:

"Aubrey Hayes, I still have those photos of you! I look at them sometimes—just to remind myself how pathetic you are. You’re not even good enough to warm my brother’s bed…"

She didn’t get to finish. I grabbed the teapot and poured it over her head.

She shrieked, mascara running. Her wails brought Ethan running.

"She poured water on me!"

He just looked at me, quiet, unreadable.

...

I don’t know what came over me. I’d never let Ethan get to me like this. But this time, I lost it.

I stared at Olivia, voice shaking:

"You’re the real bitch."

...

The room froze. Even Olivia stopped crying.

Then—fire across my cheek. Ethan slapped me.

The sting bloomed across my skin, hot and humiliating. For a second, the world tilted—then snapped back, harsher than before.

He called my name, voice panicked, but I couldn’t hear it. I didn’t want to.

I picked up the steak knife and stabbed it into my own abdomen.

Pathetic, but even then, I held onto one last hope: that Ethan Callahan could be the father of the child inside me.