Chapter 2

The fights between me, my stepmother, and my half-sister were practically part of the house's decor. Some days the silence in the mansion felt like glass about to shatter. One wrong word at breakfast and just like that — another war.

And my father?

Always on their side.

At first I used to cry. Then I started arguing back. Now... I just don't feel anything anymore. It's strange to realize that love can die slowly, like a forgotten candle burning in the dark until there's nothing left but smoke.

My stepmother did everything she could to convince my father to take me to court over my mother's inheritance. She talked about that money as if it were hers by right.

But it wasn't.

It never would be.

Meanwhile, my father's company was slowly sinking. He barely showed up anymore. He'd rather travel with his new wife, cater to her every whim, buy jewelry, cars, absurdly expensive clothes — anything to keep that woman satisfied.

And she loved every second of it.

My stepmother was the kind of person who confused luxury with power.

But money isn't magic. Eventually, the bill comes due.

So I did what I always do when everything falls apart: I focused on myself.

I don't have any real friends. I've never been able to fully trust anyone. My whole life has felt like an aquarium full of sharks wearing rich-people smiles. So all I had was myself... and Sebastian.

Even with my doubts about him, he was still the only person who seemed to stay by my side.

I studied abroad for years. Best time of my life. Away from that house, away from the manipulation, away from the poisonous dinners. I majored in interior design and art — two things I love deeply. I've always liked turning cold spaces into living ones. Maybe because I could never do that with my own home.

I picked up other languages too. English, Spanish, Italian, French — different languages, same human lies. Funny how people can betray you in any language that exists.

Even living in the middle of high society, I was never shallow. I like working out, I take care of myself, I live a pretty active life — despite my near-criminal love for sweets. Cupcakes, brownies, cheesecake... my entire weakness fits inside an elegant bakery.

And yes, I have an hourglass figure that draws attention without much effort.

Genetic gift from Mom.

My half-sister, on the other hand, was my complete opposite.

She dropped out of two colleges.

Two.

She never finished anything she started because she was too busy spending my father's money on designer bags, ridiculous parties, and a different guy every week. And my stepmother supported all of it, as if irresponsibility were some kind of refined personality trait.