Chapter 3

Sienna's POV

Violent coughing exploded through the speaker—I'd caught him completely off guard.

Ten seconds of dead silence. Then his voice cracked through, panicked and stuttering: "Sienna—what—what the hell are you—you're my ONLY daughter! What is this?!"

"Really?" I let out a cold laugh. "Then why is this woman claiming I'm the homewrecker who seduced HER daddy?"

"What the FUCK?!" Charles's voice shot up an octave. "Sienna, where are you right now? I'm coming immediately! Who's saying this shit? I'll fucking END them!"

I hung up. The entire venue fell silent.

Then Cindy burst into even more hysterical laughter.

"Oh my GOD! Sienna, that performance was GOLDEN!" She clutched her stomach, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. "You actually paid some rando to play along? Girl, you almost had me!"

She swiped furiously at her phone, projecting new content onto the screen.

"Too bad my dad's literally on the OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD right now!"

The display showed a string of text message screenshots. The most recent one, timestamped this morning, read: "Sweetheart, Dad's Sydney meetings are going great. I'll be home in a few days to see you."

Below it was a selfie geo-tagged at the Sydney Opera House.

I recognized that photo instantly—Charles had taken it last month during his Australia trip. The bastard was recycling old photos to deceive his illegitimate daughter.

"SEE?" Cindy waved her phone triumphantly. "My dad is in fucking AUSTRALIA! How's he gonna magically teleport here? Your lies are PATHETIC!"

The crowd erupted in mocking laughter:

"HA! She hired some dude off the street!"

"Sienna's losing it!"

"Bet that cost daddy's money too!"

Cindy's face twisted into something ugly. "That's RIGHT! Using MY dad's money, you fucking PARASITE!"

She lunged at me, hand raised to slap my face.

I caught her wrist mid-swing and twisted hard. "Wanna fight? Bitch, you're not ready."

"LET GO! You homewrecking BITCH!" Cindy struggled, her face turning purple.

Just as we locked in our standoff, a woman suddenly burst through the crowd.

"Cindy! ENOUGH!"

The woman shoved Cindy aside, glaring at her daughter for a split second before whirling to face me.

Then she dropped to her knees.

The entire beach went silent.

"PLEASE!" The woman collapsed into sobs. "Please—please don't make Richard leave me! I'll give you—I'll give you ANYTHING! Money, jewelry, whatever—just—just don't destroy my family! PLEASE!"

I looked down at her, recognition clicking into place.

Linda Carter. The "poor single mother" my mother had taken pity on years ago. The maid we'd hired out of kindness, letting her stay at our beach house with her daughter.

So this was Charles's game all along. Keeping his mistress and bastard child right under our noses.

"Holy shit, the WIFE is begging the mistress?"

"This is insane! Sienna's like the final boss of homewreckers!"

"Look at that poor woman! How can anyone be so heartless?"

The crowd went absolutely feral, hurling insults from every direction.

I stared down at the kneeling woman, voice dripping ice. "Lady, do you even have a marriage certificate? Or just some photos?"

Linda's body jerked visibly, her face draining of color.

Cindy screeched in protest: "They ARE married! We have their wedding photo hanging in our living room!"

She whipped out her phone again, projecting another image: a young couple in wedding attire, smiling sweetly at each other.

I glanced at the photo and laughed sharply. "Cute photo shoot. My parents have an actual marriage license. Your mom's just the side chick."

"You're full of SHIT!" Cindy roared, spinning to face the crowd. "Look at this, everyone! This BITCH forced my mom to her knees and NOW she's slandering her!"

"If this was YOUR mom getting destroyed by some homewrecker, would you do NOTHING?!"

"We need to teach this whore a LESSON!"

Her words ignited the mob.

"She's RIGHT! We can't let her get away with this!"

"Beat the shit out of this homewrecker!"

"Justice for the wife!"

Female students charged the stage with tears of rage in their eyes. Male students started hurling objects.

A champagne bottle cracked against my shoulder. Red liquid—wine? soup?—splattered across my dress. Hands yanked my hair, tore at my clothes.

"STOP IT! You'll KILL her!" Principal Thompson desperately tried to restore order, but the mob drowned him out.

The crowd pushed and shoved, driving us from the beach toward the edge of the pier's wooden boardwalk.

I was trapped in the center, fending off attacks from every direction. My heels were trampled off in the melee. I stood barefoot on the rough planks.

As the chaos peaked, Cindy slipped behind me, malice glinting in her eyes.

"Go to HELL!"

She drove her foot viciously into the small of my back.

I lost my balance completely, plummeting from the pier several meters down.

CRACK—

My face slammed into the exposed rocks below. Razor-sharp oyster shells tore through skin. Searing pain exploded across my cheek as hot blood streamed down my face.

Something in my wrist cracked like dry wood. Agony so intense I nearly blacked out.

"AHHHHHHH—"

My screams echoed across the entire beach. Seagulls scattered into the sky.

"Oh my GOD, she actually fell!"

"Look at all that BLOOD!"

"Someone call 911!"

The students on the pier stood frozen in shock, but Cindy wore a satisfied smile.

She looked down at me from above, then slowly descended the stairs. She ground her red-soled stiletto into my mangled right hand.

"How's THAT feel, you fucking SLUT?!"

The sharp heel stabbed into the wound. My body convulsed, breath catching in my throat.

"FUCK yeah, Cindy!"

"Karma's a BITCH!"

"That's what you GET!"

Instead of stopping her, the crowd cheered her on.

Then a furious male voice thundered across the beach like a crack of lightning:

"Which one of you TOUCHED MY DAUGHTER?!"