Across a Lifetime, Never Again

He clamped his hand around my throat. "You forced Elodie to marry that lunatic, didn't you? I told you what happened at the birthday party was an accident. Why can't you just leave her alone? Girls from the slums like you always gotta make everything messy!"

My eyes burned. "Don't forget who put me in the slums—who stole my life, my father!"

A bitter taste hit the back of my throat, and I doubled over, coughing hard.

Stanley knew exactly what I'd been through—he was the one who dragged me out of that place.

And now he was slicing me open with the cruelest words he could find, all for Elodie.

His face shifted like he'd just snapped out of a fog. He reached for me, trying to wipe my tears. "Vivienne, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry."

I stepped back, dodging his hand, jaw locked.

"Elodie's not even your family's real daughter," he said, voice low. "Your dad loves you—so of course he'd do what you want."

I couldn't hold it in anymore. My hand cracked across his face. "Get out."

I shoved him toward the door. He lingered, then finally left.

When I opened the door again, a bottle of bruise ointment sat on the floor.

I sucked in a breath and told Geoffrey to toss it.

When I first came back from the slums, I was covered in cuts and bruises. Stanley had used that exact ointment, tending to me piece by piece.

But that wasn't kindness—it was pity. Guilt for helping Elodie steal my place as the real daughter.

I'd bought it in my last life. Never again.

***

Soon enough, it was time for the makeup birthday banquet Dad had thrown together for me.

He wanted to announce both my and Elodie's marriages, but I'd already shot that idea down.

Elodie showed up in a white gown, gliding down the spiral staircase on Stanley's arm.

The crowd actually gasped.

"Well, she WAS raised by the Westons for eighteen years—she's got the real heiress vibe. Some people just can't compare."

"What a shame. Elodie and Stanley grew up together, and now Vivienne's forcing her to marry that lunatic..."

I tuned them out, smirking as I downed my champagne in one shot.

Wonder if, at their wedding, these same people will call her out for stealing my fiancé and shoving me—the actual heiress—out of the picture.

I wasn't planning on starting anything, but Elodie made her move, gliding right over under all those watchful eyes.

She clasped my hand, face all soft and sorry. "Vivienne, I didn't mean to bring Stanley. I just wanted one last dance with him before I got married. I never wanted to outshine you."

I cocked a brow. "Last dance with him before you got married? Funny. Then tell me—who exactly are you marrying?"

Color rushed into her cheeks. Guess it's hard to answer when I had literally handed her the betrothal contract with Stanley's name on it.

Stanley bristled instantly, yanking her to his side. "Vivienne, don't start. Everyone knows you pushed your dad into arranging Elodie's marriage. And now you're trying to humiliate her in front of all these people?"

He stared at me like I was the biggest letdown of his life.

Elodie clung to my arm, voice all shaky. "Vivienne, I know you hate me, but I was a victim too. I had to leave my real parents—why can't you forgive me?"

I shook her off, disgusted.

She let out a cry and stumbled backward, crashing into the champagne tower before hitting the floor in a heap.

"Elodie!"

Stanley's eyes went wild. He stripped off his jacket, draped it over her, and scooped her up like some knight in shining armor.

As he passed, his glare was pure venom. "Vivienne, for everything you've ever done to Elodie, I'll pay you back—one by one."

I almost fired back, but all the memories from my last life—every fight, every loss—shut me up.