Chapter 30
Chapter 30
“This is your sister,” my father had declared one sunny afternoon. It had been a three-hour drive to get to the huge mansion that loomed behind him, his shadow falling over me and my mother.
The little girl clutching my father’s hand smiled brightly at me, wearing a pretty violet dress that probably cost more than my mom’s apartment.
“I’m Adelaide!” my new sister cried. With her bright eyes and sweet smile, I could almost believe that she was welcoming us, even that she was excited to see me.
But my mother’s nails digging into my palm reminded me of the truth.
“It’s their fault,” my mother would always say on nights when her glass bottles lined the floors. On days when she’d cry herself to sleep, calling out my father’s name between sobs.
When I meant nothing to her.
I always knew I had a sister. My mother never let me forget as she’d tell me the story over and over. How my father married the witch and left us with nothing.
It was their fault that my father could only visit us for a few minutes once a month. Their fault we had to live in an apartment that was falling apart. It was her fault I couldn’t wear a pretty dress like her but one my mom had fixed up from a donation box.
It was all Maelyn McNair’s fault. And her daughter.
Adelaide.
She was the reason I didn’t have a father to come home to. Why the other kids teased me about my clothes being mismatched, why I didn’t have pretty dresses and a garden full of flowers.
All the things that should’ve been mine were hers.
She had taken everything from me my entire life.
If the witch hadn’t died, we still would’ve been in that dirty place, outcasts despite being a daughter of the Hildebrands, too. And she dared to smile at me, like everything we went through wasn’t her fault.
So that day, standing in front of my new house and my new sister, I made a silent vow.
I would take everything away from her. Just like she’d done to me. We’d see how she liked being the forgotten one. The outcast.
“–And the florist is arriving at eight in the morning with the centerpieces, but they wanted an extra fee to set them all up,” I complained loudly into the phone. “I know, it’s so unfair-”
My reflection on the vanity stared back at me as I plugged in the hair dryer. My wet hair pulled up into a towel to dry and dressed only in a bathrobe, I looked more like a drowned poodle than the actress Corinna Summers.
Makeup was everything. That was what my mother had taught me.
I heard the slamming of the front door, and I paused from talking into the phone.
“Let me call you back,” I said, before hanging up. I turned in my seat as Ashton stumbled his way into the room, the sour smell of alcohol fuming off of him.
“You’re drunk,” I growled, crossing my arms impatiently.
“Shut up,” Ashton snapped with a slight slur to his words. He moved toward me but lost his balance and grabbed my table to straighten himself up. The hair dryer crashed to the floor along with all of my makeup products.
“This is the third night this week you’ve been gone all night!” I shouted, getting to my feet and ignoring the destruction he’d just caused. “May I remind you that we are getting married in three days?”
“I know that!” Ashton yelled, collapsing back onto the bed with a sigh.
“Do you?” I huffed. “I practically had to plan this wedding by myself!”
“Spending my money!” Ashton roared at me, his eyes bloodshot as he bared his teeth in a snarl.
I flinched, stepping back. For a moment, I thought he might hit me, but instead, he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.
“I’m not in the mood for this,” he said bitterly and then fell onto the bed
again, still in his suit.
I swallowed uncomfortably and took my seat at the vanity. It was better to just let him sleep off the alcohol. This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.
Ashton was not a good drunk. Not a nice drunk. Not to me anyway.
I pulled the towel away from my hair, picking up my hair dryer off the floor. I glanced at Ashton and then sighed.
Things weren’t going the way I had planned. Even if I was taking everything from Adelaide.
Ashton had always seemed like a prince, but I was realizing that everything he said and did was fake. He wasn’t perfect in the slightest; he wasn’t even a good man.
He’d taken to ignoring me anytime I tried to speak to him and leaving for long periods at night, without telling me where he’d been or why. I could barely say a word to him before he’d start screaming at me about some issue or another.
I didn’t have the patience to treat him like the child he was. He was going to have to get himself together. I never imagined Damon was the best of the two of them. But Ashton was proving that to be true.
As I dried my hair, I glanced at the phone he’d left on the bed. He let out. a shuddering snore, curling, face-down in the pillow.
He’d been rather interested in texting someone lately. I knew he was probably cheating on me. Our relationship meant nothing to either one. of us, after all. But I would like to know where he’d been.
I pulled my hair into a braid. Even if we weren’t in a real relationship, my pride wouldn’t allow me to lose to some other b*tch.
I glanced at his phone once more.
The opportunity was too good to lose.
I got to my feet, careful not to make a sound with my bare feet on the carpet. I crept slowly over to the bed and snatched up the phone quickly.
The screen lit up in a blue glow, showcasing the standard background. How predictable.
He hadn’t even bothered to change it from the default.
As I swiped up, however, the phone locked out-a thumbprint password.
I rolled my eyes, glancing over at the limp form of Ashton. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
I smirked as I lay the phone on the bed right side up, and softly pressed his thumb on the screen’s surface. He didn’t even stir, much to my relief.
With the phone now open, I snatched it up and began to scroll. First through his contacts and then, through text messages.
Amanda: I can’t wait, baby.
I stiffened in surprise. Baby? Who the hell was she calling baby? I clicked. on her name and scrolled through the most recent texts, my eyes widening in disbelief.
Text after text, picture after picture. There were days full of the disgusting drivel the two of them had sent to one another. Pictures I had never wanted to see and texts that made me feel like taking another shower.
I sneered as Ashton slept away, unaware that I had his dirty little secret in the palm of my hand. I quickly screenshot as many of the conversations as I could, sending them to my phone.
When at last I reached the top, I realized I knew exactly who Amanda
was.
‘Hi, I’m Amanda. It was so nice to meet you last time, and I’m very excited to carry your baby for you and your wife.
He was f*cking the surrogate? Seriously?
Oh, hell no.
I ground my teeth together, shutting off the phone and throwing it onto the bed with Ashton. My phone buzzed with the screenshots I had sent to myself, and I glared at it in disgust.
This could ruin both of us, our engagement, and everything we had worked for. Ashton’s childish behavior had reached a new low, and I couldn’t allow him to mess up everything I’d worked so hard for.
I glowered at my reflection in the vanity. I wasn’t going to let that happen. If this was going to go south, I had the proof I needed to play the wounded wife.
“I will get everything I deserve,” I spat at the mirror-only able to see
Adelaide’s eyes that matched my own. “I’ll take everything you have until you have nothing left.”
Father, Mother, your money and toys, your reputation, and friends.
Even Ashton and Damon.
I wouldn’t be happy until I knew Adelaide was left in the same condition I’d been brought into. I could never forgive her for making me the
forgotten child for so long. She’d taken everything from me. It was time I did the same.
I looked in the mirror, imagining myself telling Adelaide everything I’d done. And finally telling her why I’d done it all.
“Soon, you’ll have nothing,” I said to the mirror.
“Just like I did.”