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

Rachel's eyes rimmed red, tears streaming down her face in a pitiful display.

"Dad, I'm your biological daughter too! Why are you being so cruel to me?"

"All I did was fight to be with the man I love—what's wrong with that? If Rufus doesn't want Fay, that's her problem. Why should everything good in this family be handed to her on a silver platter?"

Father let out a cold laugh. "Fine. I'll honor your effort. Everyone here is my witness—from this moment forward, you are no longer a Pruitt. Good luck out there."

He turned sharply. "Someone go retrieve every last piece of my eldest daughter's dowry!"

"Fifty cases of cash. Fifteen chests of jewelry. Three Porsches. The twenty-percent equity agreement. And the property deeds to five villas at Harbor Bay Gardens. Every. Single. Item. Bring it all back to the Pruitt estate."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Then, one by one, every pair of eyes swiveled toward Rufus—staring at him the way you'd stare at the dumbest man alive.

Rachel shrieked on the spot. "No! That dowry is MINE!"

Mom's palm cracked across her face before the echo died. "You stole Fay's wedding and now you want her dowry too? What fantasy world are you living in? Every last piece was prepared by the Pruitt family for Fay. You? You're nothing. You want a dowry? Go ask Celia for one."

The bodyguards hoisted the chests and turned to leave—but Rufus stepped into their path.

"Hold it." His voice was deceptively calm. "Take one step out that door with those, and by tomorrow morning, half the Pruitt empire will be mine."

He looked at Father. "Father-in-law, when our two families signed the prenuptial agreement, the contract only specified 'the Pruitt daughter.' No name was given. I upheld my end of the bargain—I married a Pruitt daughter, and Rachel hasn't suffered a day of mistreatment. What you're doing right now is a breach of contract."

He produced a prenuptial agreement—signed barely a week ago. The lawyer beside him read the key clause aloud for the entire room.

"Should Party B, Rufus Sanchez, prove unfaithful to the Pruitt daughter, he shall leave the marriage with nothing. Conversely, should the Pruitt family reclaim the dowry, it shall constitute a breach of contract, and Party A shall compensate Party B with twenty percent of company shares."

Dead silence.

"Impossible!" Father's face drained of color. "I would never sign something like that!"

He snatched the contract. The lawyer pointed to a line of fine print at the very bottom of the last page.

Rufus smiled—a slow, satisfied curl of his lips. He lifted his chin, and on the massive screen behind him, footage began to play: Father, in his own hand, signing the document.

"Mr. Pruitt, you're the kind of man who makes the entire business district tremble when he stamps his foot. Surely you wouldn't stoop to playing dumb?" Rufus tilted his head, eyes glinting. "But even if you tried, it wouldn't matter. This contract bears your personal seal. It's legally binding. If you're not afraid of the humiliation of a courtroom battle, by all means—go ahead and move those chests."

Father clutched his chest, wheezing violently, his face mottled with rage. He nearly collapsed on the spot.

Mom's eyes burned scarlet. She wanted to fight for me, to demand justice—but the words died in her throat. There was nothing she could say.

Rachel swayed her hips and nestled into Rufus's arms, her face blooming with triumph.

"Oh, sister," she cooed. "So what if I'm no longer a Pruitt? If you get on your knees right now and apologize to me, maybe—just maybe—I'll be in a generous mood. I might even put in a good word for you with Rufus. Convince him to abstain at the shareholders' meeting. That way, Dad won't lose his chairman's seat. You know those old sharks on the board—they'll eat him alive without blinking."

She flicked her wrist dismissively. "As for your dowry? I'll be keeping that. Bring it all inside."

The Sanchez servants shoved past me without a shred of hesitation, and one by one, the dowry chests began moving back through the doors.

Mom rushed forward to stop them, but the Sanchez servants—emboldened by their master's arrogance—slammed into her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

Rachel arched a brow. "Mrs. Pruitt, this is a private Sanchez family matter. If you insist on throwing yourself into the middle of it, you can only blame yourself when you get hurt."

I helped Mom to her feet and fixed my gaze on the two of them—cold, unblinking.

Rufus's lips curled into a patronizing smirk. "Without that dowry, you can't even afford to buy yourself a husband anymore. But tell you what—for old times' sake, since you used to follow me around like a lovesick puppy, come work as Rachel's servant for three years. If you behave, I might consider giving you a son to secure your future."

When I refused to comply, Rufus grabbed my shoulder and shoved me in front of Rachel, then kicked the back of my knee.

Just as he was about to force me to my knees and make me bow—

The sealed doors of the banquet hall slammed open.

"We've received a report that the Sanchez family illegally seized a substantial amount of the Pruitt family's private assets. Which one of you is Rufus Sanchez?"