Chapter 3

Scarlett's POV

My mind went blank. My blood turned to ice.

I never expected that Winona's daughter, the one recovering in Europe all these years, was Chloe.

Tristan's Chloe.

The next second, Chloe smiled sweetly and walked toward me, trying to hug me. "Scarlett. I'm Chloe. We're going to be sisters now."

Before she could touch me, I shoved her away. "Get away from me! We are not family."

Chloe stumbled back, looking deeply hurt. "Scarlett... do you really hate me that much?"

"Scarlett! Where are your manners?!" my father bellowed, rushing over. "Chloe was just trying to be nice! Why did you push her?"

"I've never had manners. You knew that."

"You!"

My father shook with rage but couldn't do anything. He looked at my suitcase. "So, you're moving out?"

"You brought your mistress and her bastard daughter into my mother's house. Of course I'm leaving. The air in here is making me sick."

My father sneered. "Fine! Chloe actually loves your bedroom anyway. Since you're leaving, your room belongs to her now."

I didn't waste another breath. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the door.

Behind me, my father yelled, "Go! But don't you dare forget what you promised! You are marrying Sinclair in two weeks!"

"Don't worry. I keep my word."

I didn't look back.

I went straight to the penthouse suite of the most expensive hotel in Manhattan and checked in.

Over the next few days, I went on a reckless shopping spree.

Bespoke diamond necklaces, limited-edition designer bags, luxury cars. I bought everything without looking at the price.

I didn't know if I was venting my pain or trying to drain my father's bank account.

My phone vibrated constantly in my bag. I ignored every call.

But when I returned to the hotel lobby carrying a dozen luxury shopping bags, I found my suitcases piled up near the front desk.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded.

The receptionist looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Miss Vance. Your black card was declined. According to hotel policy, we had to check you out."

My phone buzzed. A text from my father popped up:

Since you want to cut ties, don't use my money. I've frozen all your accounts. I'm also sending people to confiscate everything you just bought today!

I stared at the screen until my eyes burned.

I texted back: Go ahead.

Freeze my accounts? Take my things?

Fine.

I would just make sure that when Damian Sinclair's people came to pick me up, the ten-billion-dollar dowry went directly into my personal account, not the Vance Group's.

My father's company was drowning. Without that money, he would go bankrupt.

I couldn't wait to see if Winona and Chloe would stay with an old, bankrupt man.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it was Tristan.

Why aren't you at the office today?

I ignored it, tucking the phone away, and dragged my suitcase down the street.

The Sinclair family wasn't picking me up for another ten days. Where was I supposed to live? How was I supposed to eat?

I had zero cash. Eventually, my legs gave out. I dragged myself under a bridge near Central Park, planning to just huddle there for the night.

But the moment I sat down, a sketchy-looking man crept closer.

"Hey, pretty girl. All alone?"

"Get lost!"

"Don't be like that. Let's have some fun."

His filthy hand reached for my shoulder. I raised my hand to slap him.

"Ahhh!"

A sickening crack echoed.

I didn't even see him arrive. Tristan was suddenly there, twisting the man's wrist until the bone snapped.

Before I could react, Tristan grabbed my arm and threw me and my suitcase into the back of his Maybach.

"Let me go!"

"Are you fighting with your father again?" Tristan gripped my wrists, his voice low and dangerous. "You're homeless, and you didn't think to call me?"

His words made my throat tighten.

In the past, whenever I fought with my dad, Tristan would search the whole city, find me, and carry me back to his place.

"Did he hurt you?" he would always ask. "Why didn't you come to me?"

Back then, I actually believed he cared.

But now...

He had a whole woman in his heart, yet he kept me in his bed. He was just as disgusting as my father.

And out of all the women in the world, why did it have to be Chloe?

Why her?

"Let me go!" I screamed, biting his hand hard.

He flinched but didn't let go. He stepped on the gas and drove off.