Evangeline could still remember it vividly: she was sixteen when she first got her period, and her father, frantic with worry, dragged her to the doctor’s office.
When they
they found out it was just a normal part of growing up, they both sat there with flushed faces, utterly embarrassed.
So, in the beginning, Evangeline tried her best to be understanding when her father remarried.
Even when Giselle targeted her at every turn–snatching away her toys and clothes–and her father would only smooth things over, always telling her to just let Giselle have them, Evangeline obeyed without complaint, no matter how unfair it felt.
She hoped her patience and compromise would buy them a little peace at home.
That lasted until five years ago, when Giselle, in the heat of an argument, let something slip. That was when Evangeline learned the truth: Hazel wasn’t her father’s second wife at all, but the mistress he’d kept outside the family for years.
And Giselle wasn’t Hazel’s child from another man–she was her father Winston’s illegitimate daughter.
When Evangeline first learned the truth, her rage was overwhelming–she screamed at her father, demanding that he throw Hazel and Giselle out of the house.
But before the words were even out, her father’s furious slap knocked the reality
into her.
The home where she’d once been cherished–the place where she was her father’s little princess–was gone.
The father who had loved her had been buried alongside her mother, long ago.
This house now belonged to Giselle.
She was just an unwanted guest.
Back then, she’d put up with Giselle’s arrogance for her father’s sake, biting he tongue and giving in on everything just to make his life easier.
But later, it was simply a matter of survival.
“Gigi, who’s this?”
The girl standing next to Giselle–whoever she was, probably another spoiled
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heiress–looked at Evangeline with a puzzled frown.
A moment later, recognition flickered in her eyes, quickly replaced by a sneer. Of remember now! I’ve seen you before. You’re the young Mrs. Fawkes, aren’t you?
Giselle smirked. “That’s her. Clung to Soren like her life depended on it, forced her way into the Fawkes family, and dragged our Whitmore family’s name through the mud along with her.”
The truth was, the Whitmores hadn’t suffered any fallout; in fact, they’d scored quite a few perks thanks to their connection with the Fawkes family.
Her parents had said as much–Evangeline’s mess with Soren was her own doing, nothing to do with the rest of them.
Everyone knew the marriage had been orchestrated by Evangeline and her late mother.
Still, Giselle couldn’t stand it.
She could have married Soren herself, if things had gone differently….
She was certain that if she’d been the one to marry Soren, none of this would have happened.
Evangeline was used to Giselle’s jabs and endless attempts to provoke her. She barely reacted, giving them both a cool glance before turning to leave.
But Giselle wouldn’t let it go.
“Where do you think you’re going, Evangeline?”
She stepped in front of Evangeline, blocking her way with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Can’t even say hello? No manners at all–no wonder.”
“Hurry up and help carry our shopping inside.”
With that, Giselle dumped her bags–and her friend’s–into Evangeline’s arms.
Evangeline took a step back, letting the bags fall between them.
Giselle was left holding nothing but air.
“Let it go, Gigi,” the other girl said with a laugh. “After all, she’s the young Mrs. Fawkes now.”
Maybe the comment stung, because Giselle’s face darkened.
“Mrs. Fawkes? Please. She’s just a social climber who threw herself at Soren. The
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Fawkes family might have taken her in, but she’s still the same cheap nobody underneath.”
As Giselle finished, her friend flashed a thumbs–up, clearly impressed.
Giselle smirked, pleased with herself, thinking Evangeline would swallow her pride like always. She was just about to add another cutting remark.
But before she could get a word out, Evangeline spoke up, her tone calm and cold.
“We’re half–sisters, Giselle. We share the same blood.”
“If I’m so worthless, what does that make you?”
