Framed and Furious: My Rampage Begins

I never got close enough to hit him with the metal ornament. The two employees reacted quickly and grabbed hold of me, locking me in place. Several hard slaps landed across my face, leaving me dizzy and disoriented.

"You psycho! You dare to hit me? You must have a death wish," Seth spat.

Despite the ringing in my ears, I kept shouting at them.

"Fiona! When she finds out what you did to us, she'd never let you get away with this. She'll tear you apart!"

Seth stopped hitting me at that moment. He grabbed a handful of my hair and wrenched my head backward, forcing me to look at him.

"You're done for, and you're still playing pretend? You keep claiming you're her brother, but take a good look at yourself. Do you look anything like her?"

His words caught me off guard for a second.

He was right to say that we didn't look anything alike because she wasn't my parents' biological daughter.

During a heavy snowstorm, the six-year-old me got separated from my parents at an amusement park. At the time, I'd heard faint crying coming from the bushes nearby.

When I pushed the bushes aside, I found baby Fiona in a tattered cardboard box.

My parents eventually found me, and we called the police. But surveillance technology was primitive back then, and they couldn't track down her birth parents.

I wanted her as my sister, and my parents felt like fate had brought her to us. Hence, they decided to adopt her.

We'd planned to tell her the truth once she settled down. Instead, the secret boyfriend she'd been hiding from us was now trying to kill the family who'd given her a second chance at life.

Before I could shake off the memories, someone shoved a stinking rag into my mouth.

"You like pretending to be someone you're not, huh? Then, I'll disfigure your face and see how you scam people after this."

Seth pressed a box cutter against my cheek. The cold metal made my whole body go rigid, and all I could do was make muffled sounds through the rag.

I felt something warm run down my cheek. The metallic scent of blood filled my nose, and I closed my eyes in despair.

Just then, I heard tires screeching to a stop outside the store.

Seeing a black Rolls-Royce Phantom pull up at the entrance, one of the employees shouted excitedly, "Ms. Miller is here! That's her car."

Fiona had finally shown up.