Ashley
"Who do you think you're talking to?" he yelled. "I am your father, and I will not let you tear this family apart!"
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I gently raised my hand to my cheek, rubbing the stinging spot. I wanted to cry right there in front of them, but I refused to let them see me break. Crying would mean giving up, and I would never give them the satisfaction.
"Father," I spoke, my voice soft but unwavering. "No matter how much you hit me, I will not change my mind. Ariana is sleeping with Owen, and you're too blind to see it."
"You—" he began, but I cut him off again.
"I'm going to visit Grandfather since he's the only one who cares about me," I said, my voice rising as I turned to leave.
"If you take another step, you will lose your place in this family, Ashley. Don't test me!" My father's warning hung heavy in the air, echoing the threats he had made so many times in the past. "This is my last warning, as your father. If you take another step—"
"Father," I said, turning back and meeting his gaze. "No matter what you do, I will not go back on my word because it is the truth. If you choose not to believe me, that's on you—just like you refused to believe Mother in the past." I brought up my mother because her death was in his hands. He would have known she was innocent if he had listened to her instead of letting rumors dictate his actions.
And here we were again, history was repeating itself.
Nothing had truly changed except my legitimacy, and it infuriated me to know that even with my mother as the legal wife this time, I still had no place in this household. They still treated me the same way they had in the past.
"I'll take my leave now," I announced, turning away, but Phaedra's voice rang out and stopped me.
"Keep running to your grandfather, Ashley. One day, even he won't be able to save you."
I sighed deeply, not bothering to turn back, and walked out of the house, tears spilling down my face.
I cried for all the times I longed for my father's love but never received it. I cried for the moment I believed I had married the perfect man, only to learn he was a monster. I cried for the sister I once trusted, who ended up hating me even after I died.
No one cared about me—except for my grandfather.
"Ashley!" Ariana's voice rang out as I reached my car, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Wait!" She ran up to me, panting heavily as she stopped before me. "Wait!"
"What is it, Ariana?" I asked, my voice weary.
She raised her head and stepped closer, pulling me into her arms. "I'm sorry your proposal didn't go well," she whispered, rubbing my back before bursting into laughter. "But I must admit, you looked pathetic in those paparazzi pictures." She laughed again and stepped back. "Oh, you haven't seen them yet?" she asked, a mock pout on her lips. "I'm so sorry for you. Not only did you lose your boyfriend because of your foolishness, but he never even cared about you."
I watched her, unmoved, as she continued to talk, her mouth spewing spiteful words. "If I were you, I'd beg Owen to take me back."
"Well, I never expected to hear something so foolish," I replied, folding my arms. "Owen means nothing to me anymore, and he doesn't deserve the title of my boyfriend. You can have him while I go for better things—including Christian."
Her jaw clenched and her face reddened, but I didn't care. Christian told me to fight for myself, and I would do exactly that. I would never let them win again.
"See you later, Ariana," I said with a smile as I got into my car and drove away from the family estate.
Once alone on the road, I pulled over and grabbed my phone, scrolling through the posts.
Ariana hadn't lied—I looked awful in the pictures. Whoever posted them was clearly on Owen's side; they made me seem like the villain. Memes about me being "evil" were circulating, and the comments were nasty. Not a single person seemed to be on my side.
As I scrolled through the hateful comments, one caught my attention.
Christian Royal.
He had commented something nice about me.
"Trust me, she is an angel."
Under his post were thousands of replies, most of them speculating about our relationship.
An idea sparked in my mind and I liked the post and clicked to follow him.
With that simple action, I had planted a rumor—and I was taking another step closer to Christian Royal.
If Ariana wanted him, then I would go for him too.
I also had to take care of my health, so I scheduled an appointment at a hospital. Out of the thousands in the country, I chose the one that would create even more rumors.
The Royal Hospital.
Two people could play this game.
But only one of us would win.