Chapter 3

This voice was like a poisoned knife, slicing through the uncanny harmony in the chapel.

I froze, every muscle in my body going stiff.

The word illegitimate brat hit me so hard that my ears started ringing.

Victoria's arms around me tightened instantly.

She turned her head, and her beautiful face went cold.

Victoria shouted, her voice icy, "Margaret Wellington, watch your mouth!"

I followed her gaze across the room.

A middle-aged woman in a sleek black dress, makeup flawless and sharp, was striding over with a girl about my age clinging to her arm, both of them wearing matching looks of mean-spirited satisfaction.

The girl's face was twisted with the exact same mix of contempt and gloating.

I realized this woman was my aunt, Margaret Wellington.

The girl was my cousin, Emily Wellington.

Margaret let out a cold laugh, sizing me up from head to toe.

Her gaze made me feel like nothing but trash.

She mocked, "What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?

"An illegitimate daughter who can't even make it onto the family tree, what else would you call her?"

Margaret glared at Victoria and the others, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Victoria, have you all lost your minds? You brought someone like this into the family? My brother will never rest in peace with this mess!"

Emily chimed in, her tone mocking and sly.

She mocked, "Seriously, Victoria, just look at what she's wearing. Is that some cheap knockoff from a flea market?

"She's making a complete joke out of the Wellington family. Our reputation is going down the drain because of her.

"Charles, Edward, why aren't you throwing her out already?" Emily whined, looking to her cousins for backup.

Their voices echoed off each other, and soon the guests around us started whispering, gossip spreading like wildfire.

Their eyes turned back to that same old look, full of contempt and disdain, just like when I first walked in.

Whatever warmth I'd felt from my siblings a moment ago was instantly snuffed out, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over me.

I shrank back instinctively, trying to make myself invisible.

This was probably how things were supposed to go.

I was always meant to stay in the shadows, never the kind of person anyone wanted to see.

Victoria felt me trembling and immediately noticed my fear.

She pulled me behind her, standing in front of me like a protective mama bear.

She said firmly, "Emily, shut your mouth!

"Whatever my little sister wears looks a thousand times better than your fake designer trash!"

Emily's face instantly went pale.

"You're lying! This dress is haute couture!" Emily protested, her voice shaky.

Victoria let out a mocking laugh.

She laughed, "Haute couture? Please. The embroidery on the logo at your collar is already fraying.

"If you want to play the socialite, maybe do your homework at the boutique first."

Emily was left speechless, her eyes rimmed with tears, completely shut down by Victoria's comeback.

Margaret saw her daughter get humiliated and her temper flared instantly, like a volcano about to erupt.

Margaret snapped, her voice sharp as a whip, "Victoria! Is this how you speak to your elders and your cousin?

"I'm going to teach you all a lesson today, on behalf of your dead father! None of you has any sense of respect!"

As she said this, Margaret actually raised her hand, aiming to slap Victoria right across the face.

My heart was nearly pounding out of my chest.

Then a sharp crack rang out.

The sharp sound echoed through the hall.

But it wasn't the sound of a slap.

Edward had somehow caught Margaret's wrist before she could strike.

Edward still wore that polite, refined smile, but his eyes were ice cold, completely devoid of warmth.

"Aunt Margaret, maybe you should keep it down. This is a funeral," Edward said, his voice calm but cutting.

His grip was so strong that Margaret's face twisted in pain.

"Let... Let go of me!" Margaret snapped, struggling to free herself.

Charles, who hadn't said a word until now, finally spoke up.

His voice wasn't loud, but it hit everyone like a sledgehammer, heavy and impossible to ignore.

"Margaret Wellington," he said, his tone icy and commanding.

Margaret visibly flinched, her whole body trembling.

She looked at Charles, pure fear in her eyes.

Charles walked over to me slowly, then gently pulled me out from behind Victoria, making sure everyone saw whose side I was on.

Charles slipped off his black suit jacket and draped it over my school uniform.

The jacket was huge, wrapping me up in his warmth and that subtle cedar scent, making me feel completely protected.

He turned to Margaret, his voice steady.

He said firmly, "Her name is Anna Wellington.

"And she's my little sister.

"From now on, anyone who disrespects Anna is going up against me."

He swept his gaze across the entire chapel, daring anyone to challenge him.

All the whispers instantly died out. Nobody dared say a word.

Then Charles looked down at me.

His eyes softened, the icy edge melting away as he met my gaze.

Charles reached out and gently smoothed my wind-tousled bangs, his touch surprisingly soft.

He looked at me and said, "Don't be scared.

"From now on, I've got your back."

I looked up at him, and my heart skipped a beat.

Why could he make me feel so safe?

Why were they being so nice to me?

Charles seemed to see right through me, like he could read my thoughts.

He leaned in close, his voice so low only I could hear.

"Because we've been waiting for you for seventeen years," Charles whispered.