Divorced, Blackmailed, and Married to a Billionaire Heir

I ground the cigarette into the back of her hand.

As her skin sizzled and Christina's scream tore through the air, I seized her chin.

"You think I don't know? You were alone with my mother before she died. I haven't even settled that score yet—so don't push me!"

"Fern! Have you lost your mind?!" My father slammed his palm on the table. Glenda rushed to pull the sobbing Christina into her arms, shooting me a venomous glare.

I dusted off my hands, a hollow laugh escaping my lips.

"My mother only ever had one daughter. Where exactly did this bargain-bin sister come from?"

"Dad, you know my temper. You want to throw a wedding for these two? Legitimize them in front of everyone?" I tilted my head. "Go ahead. I'll have someone tear the whole thing apart. Try me."

Perhaps it was because I was still, technically, Mrs. Henson.

My father's face went rigid. Glenda's expression curdled.

But the moment shattered when a familiar voice cut in from behind me.

"With me here, I'd like to see anyone try."

Kevin strolled in, one hand tucked casually in his pocket.

The instant Christina saw him, her tears found new purpose. She threw herself into his arms, thrusting her burned hand toward him like a wounded dove.

Kevin's brow creased with concern. He stroked her hair, murmuring softly, "It's okay, sweetheart. I'll take you to the best dermatologist in the city. Not a single scar, I promise."

His voice turned lighter, almost playful. "Our Christina still has to be the prettiest bridesmaid at Mom's wedding, doesn't she?"

I stared at him, my voice cracking. "Kevin. Do you even hear yourself?"

He lifted his gaze to meet mine. His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile, but his eyes—his eyes were glacial.

"I heard everything. Men from wealthy families—who doesn't have a woman or two on the side? Your mother died because she couldn't handle it. And somehow, that's Christina's fault?"

His tone sharpened. "You got to grow up with a father by your side. Why shouldn't Christina have the same?"

"No matter what it takes, I'm going to bring her back into the Sullivan family. Everyone will know she's a legitimate daughter of the Sullivans—and no one will ever call her a bastard again."

"You want to wreck this wedding, Fern?" His jaw tightened. "Try it."

I knew he meant every word.

The last time he'd issued a threat like that, the man's company had been swallowed whole by the Hensons within a week. The owner himself had his legs shattered, his tongue cut out, and vanished from Seacrest City entirely.

And what had that man done? Made a crude joke about me.

I should have seen this coming.

Kevin had always been a playboy at heart. To him, my father's affair was trivial—barely worth a raised eyebrow. He couldn't begin to fathom the devastation my mother and I had endured.

But knowing that didn't make it hurt any less—this betrayal, delivered point-blank by the man who had once slept beside me.

My palm connected with his face before I could stop myself.

"Get out!"

Kevin let out a low, humorless laugh, working his jaw.

Before he could respond, Christina lunged at me, shoving me with all her strength.

"I've had enough of you! Don't you dare bully Kevin anymore!"

Kevin watched her with an amused glint in his eye. "Well, well. The little bunny has teeth after all."

"You've always protected me, Kevin." Christina's voice trembled with righteous fury. "Now it's my turn to protect you!"

I crashed backward into two massive potted cacti.

Needles pierced my back, my palms, everywhere. Blood dripped onto the tile. The pain was so sharp I couldn't help the hiss that escaped through my teeth.

My father's face twisted with irritation. "A perfectly good breakfast, ruined by your dramatics."

He turned to Kevin, his tone shifting to something warm and ingratiating. "Perfect timing, actually. Have you eaten? Let's go somewhere else."

Kevin didn't even glance my way. His attention remained fixed on Christina's injured hand as he murmured his assent, already guiding her toward the door.

At the threshold, Christina turned back.

Her lips moved silently, forming words meant only for me.