He Chose the Illegitimate Sister,Now He's Begging Me Back

Others aimed straight at Rufus.

"Mr. Sanchez is really something, isn't he? He's already consummated with that shameless illegitimate daughter, yet he still has the audacity to force his legitimate fiancée into being the other woman. It's obvious he just can't bear to lose the resources behind her family. Wanting it all—treating the Pruitt heiress and her family like fools. Honestly, the things I could say would dirty my own mouth."

Rebecca was shaking with humiliation, her face drained of all color. She stormed forward and slapped Rufus hard across the face.

"You ungrateful wretch! Get on your knees this instant and apologize to your in-laws. And promise them you'll register your marriage with Fay immediately!"

She took several steps toward me, reaching for my hand. I sidestepped her smoothly.

Her expression stiffened for a fraction of a second before a fawning smile replaced it.

"Fay, dear, you've been terribly wronged. Whatever you want, Rufus will agree to it. I promise you, something like this will never happen again."

Rufus pressed a hand to his reddening cheek. His eyes cut toward me, venomous and full of loathing—as if I were the one who'd ruined his plans.

It never once crossed his mind that the biggest victim today was me.

"Mother, Rachel is the only woman I'll ever love. I won't marry anyone else. Fay Pruitt is nothing but an arrogant bully riding her family's coattails. If I marry her, the entire Sanchez family will be dragged down. The only woman who deserves to be Mrs. Sanchez is Rachel."

He lifted his chin, nostrils flaring. "If Fay knows what's good for her, I'll give her a child out of respect for Mr. Pruitt. But the child will be raised by Rachel, at my side. And if she doesn't know what's good for her?" A cruel smile twisted his lips. "She can wait to be spat on and scorned by everyone in this city. A woman rejected by the Sanchez family—who would touch her?"

I watched this man—this man I'd poured my heart into for years—with cold, detached eyes.

After the elder Mr. Sanchez passed, mediocre Rufus had taken over the family business. In barely six months, he'd alienated their investors and torpedoed their flagship project. Worse, his so-called friends had talked him into acquiring a string of garbage ventures.

Within days, the Sanchez empire imploded.

Debts totaling billions. Investors fleeing like rats from a sinking ship. Even liquidating every asset the Sanchez family had accumulated over generations wouldn't have been enough to fill the hole.

Vultures circled. Some humiliated him for sport—offering him a few thousand dollars to crawl between their legs.

It was me who'd taken pity on him, for the sake of what we'd shared. I supported him. Encouraged him. I even persuaded my father to prop him up.

Back then, Rufus had knelt before my father, weeping, swearing on his life that if he ever betrayed me, he deserved to be struck down by lightning and die a wretched death.

Two short years. That's all it took for him to regain his footing in the business world—and forget every word of that oath.

Now he had the gall to tell me that being his mistress was a privilege.

Every guest in the room stared at Rufus like he'd lost his mind. Not a single person could fathom where a man who'd only survived because of his fiancée found the nerve to provoke her.

The truth was plain: the Sanchez empire, as it stood today, essentially belonged to the Pruitts.

But Rufus was oblivious. My silence only confirmed what he wanted to believe—that I was too heartbroken, too desperate to let him go.

He pulled Rachel closer by the waist, his smugness swelling.

"Fay, kneel down and bow to Rachel. Serve her tea as the lady of the house. Do that, and I'll agree to keep you by my side."

His voice dripped with condescension. "If you serve her well, I might even consider letting you move into the Sanchez estate. I could arrange for you to see the child now and then."

I stared at that self-satisfied face.

And I smiled.

A fool this blind to reality? Rachel could have him. He'd be doing me a favor—absorbing the disaster so I didn't have to.

Beside me, my father couldn't hold back any longer. His fury peaked and broke through as a sharp, incredulous laugh.

"Well. The Sanchez family has certainly found its legs again, talking with that kind of arrogance. It seems the Pruitts simply aren't worthy anymore." His voice turned to steel. "You can keep your Mrs. Sanchez. My daughter doesn't want it."

He leveled a finger at Rachel. "As for you—the Pruitt family does not have a daughter who would steal her own sister's wedding and throw away her family's dignity without a shred of shame. The moment I get home, I'm opening the ancestral hall. Your name will be struck from the registry. You'll sign a severance agreement. From that day forward, whether you live or die has nothing to do with the Pruitt family."