Chapter 2

I couldn't be bothered to argue with Gerry. Before he could finish, I turned and walked away.

But just as I took a step, someone slapped me so hard I was knocked off my feet and hit the ground.

Megan stormed up to me, her face twisted with rage.

"Diana! Have you no shame? Gerry is my fiancé now. How dare you try to seduce him in public!" she shouted.

I pressed my burning cheek, got to my feet, and slapped her hard right across the face.

"If you can't see straight, go get your eyes fixed. It's your precious fiancé who won't leave me alone, so quit snapping at people like some crazy mutt," I snapped back.

Megan stood there, completely dazed, her eyes wide in utter disbelief.

Back then, whenever she bullied me, I never dared to fight back.

That was because I didn't want to upset Gerry.

But now, Gerry was just yesterday's trash to me. I didn't care who his friend was. If I were pissed, I'd vent my anger; if someone messed with me, I'd fight back.

When Gerry saw me slap Megan, his face went dark.

He grabbed my hand and yanked me off to the side, his face thunderous as he started chewing me out.

"Diana, you've gone too far. How could you hit Megan?" he barked. "Apologize to her right now, or don't blame me for doing something you'll regret."

His words dripped with threats, just like three years ago—throwing his weight around like he was still king of the world.

I'd had enough. I shoved him away hard. "Gerry, are you seriously telling me to apologize to her? Do you even know she was the one who pushed me off that mountain three years ago?

"She's tried to get rid of me again and again, and you still take her side?" I shouted.

Gerry froze, and before he could even process what I'd said, Megan threw herself into his arms, bawling like her world had ended.

"You let go of the rope yourself. How can you turn around and accuse me of pushing you on purpose?

"I know you can't stand seeing Gerry and me together, but seriously, how could you be so nasty, making up crap like this just to make me look bad?" she sobbed.

Gerry's suspicion disappeared in a flash at her words.

His eyes were now filled with nothing but disgust.

He dragged me into the car and slammed his foot on the gas.

I jerked my head up.

"Gerry, are you out of your mind? Where the hell are you taking me?" I yelled.

Gerry took off his suit jacket, bound my hands tightly, and snapped, "Since I can't handle you, I'll just find someone who can."

My heart was pounding as the car sped all the way to the Vaughn residence.

As I stared at that familiar gate, all those painful memories came flooding back.

When I was five, I stumbled across some photos of a beautiful woman on my dad's phone.

With innocent curiosity, I showed them to my mom and asked, "Mom, why isn't this lady wearing any clothes?"

That night, after a screaming match with my dad, my mom threw herself out the second-story window.

From then on, I was a kid without a mother. My dad, desperate to dodge his own guilt, dumped all the blame for her death onto me.

By day, he'd lock me up in the pitch-black basement like some stray mutt. At night, he'd string me up by the very window my mom jumped from, lashing me again and again with his whip.

For fifteen years, nothing changed, until Gerry's family moved in next door.

Gerry found me in the basement, so skinny I looked like a stray kitten, and he called the cops.

Ten years in that hellhole, and I could barely even talk anymore.

Gerry stayed by my side, helping me learn sign language.

Back then, he was the only light in my messed-up world.

Right then, I clung to his sleeve, my voice quivering with fear.

"Please. I'm scared. I don't want to go in there..." I begged.

But Gerry just ignored me and shoved me inside like he didn't care at all.

"You've been gone for three years, and there's something I never got the chance to tell you.

"Megan is your dad's daughter, too. You two are real half-sisters. Same father, different mothers.

"Since you bullied her, I had to bring you here and let your dad sort it out," he said.

My heart skipped a beat, and my eyes went wide. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Just then, the woman from those photos that destroyed my mom suddenly appeared before me.

She was holding onto my dad, helping him out of the study.

Instead of any happiness, there was only a flash of disgust in his eyes when he saw me.

"Bad weeds never die, do they? I knew someone like you wouldn't go down that easy," he spat. "So, what is it this time? You back just to steal Megan's man?"

The scorn in his eyes cut into me like a blunt knife, making my heart ache.

Then I saw his hand clutching that woman's waist like he owned her, and all those years of swallowing my pride and pain finally boiled over.

I clenched my fists and, for the first time ever, yelled at him with everything I had, "Steal her man? Nicholas, how dare you even say that?

"You really think everyone's just like this bitch, clinging to rotten leftovers like a desperate fly? Newsflash: my mom never wanted a man like you, and neither do I!"

With a loud bang, the ashtray Nicholas was holding crashed against my temple.

"You little piece of trash! Wasn't killing your mother enough for you? Now you want to piss me off to death, too!" he spat. "Why didn't you just die out there? What the hell are you back for?"

I crashed to the ground, blood gushing from my head in seconds.

Gerry's eyes went wide in shock, and he hurried to pull me to my feet.

I shoved his hand away, shooting him a cold smirk.

"You got what you wanted. Am I free to go now?" I sneered.

Gerry's hand froze mid-air, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.