After My Sister Took My Dowry and Groom

The door to my prison clicked open just after midnight. I jolted awake, my body tense as a shadow slipped into the room. The moonlight streaming through the sealed windows illuminated his face—Emanuel.

"Lillian, darling," he whispered, his voice dripping with false affection. "You should be sleeping. You look terrible."

I sat up slowly, keeping the thin blanket wrapped around me. "What do you want, Emanuel?"

He smiled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "I thought we should talk. Woman to woman."

"Man to man," I corrected, my voice steadier than I felt.

His laugh was cold. "Always so serious. That's what made our little game so entertaining."

"Game?" My fingers found my wrists, tracing the spots where bones had once broken.

Emanuel pulled a chair close to the bed, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Did you really think I loved you? That I waited faithfully while you scratched out those pathetic letters from the convent?"

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper—one of my letters. "Adeline and I used to read these together. We'd laugh for hours."

The room seemed to tilt beneath me. "You were together... while I was at the convent?"

"Long before," he said casually. "Your sister is much more... accommodating than you ever were."

He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Every time Mother Superior found one of my letters, she'd beat you, wouldn't she? We knew exactly what would happen. It was our little joke."

I swallowed hard, fighting the nausea rising in my throat. "You planned it all."

"Of course I did." His voice hardened. "But now we have a problem. The President seems... interested in you."

"He's offering me protection."

Emanuel's hand shot out, gripping my jaw painfully. "Protection? Is that what you think this is?"

He released me with a disgusted sound. "Men like Riley Montgomery don't protect women like you. They use you, then discard you."

"Like you did?"

His smile returned. "Exactly like I did. But I'm willing to be generous, Lillian. If you keep quiet about our... arrangement with the President, I'll make you my mistress. You can have everything you ever dreamed of."

I stared at him, this man I'd once loved with every fiber of my being. Now, I saw nothing but emptiness where his soul should be.

"You're silent," he observed. "Good. That's how I like you."

---

The door swung open again the next morning. Adeline swept in, her wedding dress replaced by an elegant silk gown that hugged her curves. Around her neck glittered my mother's diamond necklace—the one meant for my wedding day.

"Comfortable, sister dear?" she asked, her voice sweet as poison.

I remained seated on the bed, my back straight despite the exhaustion weighing on me.

Adeline circled me slowly, her fingers trailing across the diamond at her throat. "Do you know why this looks better on me than it ever would on you?"

"Because you stole it," I said quietly.

"Because I deserve it." Her smile was razor-sharp. "I've always deserved everything you thought was yours."

She leaned down, her eyes level with mine. "You were always meant to be the sacrifice, Lillian. The ugly duckling who gave everything so the beautiful swan could shine."

"I wasn't ugly," I said, thinking of the bruises that had covered my body at the convent.

"No, you weren't." Adeline's laugh was brittle. "But you were stupid. So stupid to believe Emanuel actually wanted you."

"He never did?"

"Never." She touched the necklace again. "I seduced him when we were sixteen. Right under your nose."

I met her gaze steadily, refusing to give her the tears she wanted. "And you're proud of that?"

"I'm proud of winning." She straightened, smoothing her dress. "I always win, Lillian. Remember that."

---

Across town, in the presidential compound, Marcus Webb stood before Riley Montgomery's desk.

"They intercepted her transport, sir," he reported, his voice tight with controlled anger.

Riley's pen stopped mid-signature. For a moment, he said nothing, his face perfectly composed.

Then, with deliberate precision, he set down the pen and looked up. "Tell me exactly what happened."

As Marcus detailed the events—the police cars, the false medical concerns, the George family's interference—something shifted in Riley's expression. The diplomatic mask slipped, revealing something colder and infinitely more dangerous.

"Sir?" Marcus prompted when Riley remained silent.

"Get me everything on the George family," Riley said, his voice soft but lethal. "Every transaction, every deal, every secret they think they've buried."

"You suspect—"

"I know." Riley's fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Kareem George has been laundering government funds for years. And he used Lillian's name to do it."

Marcus's eyes widened slightly. "You think she was framed?"

"I know she was." Riley stood, his decision made. "Start with his financial records. Find the dual-ledgers."

As Marcus turned to leave, Riley added, "And Marcus? Make sure the team understands—this isn't politics anymore."

It was personal now.