Love and hate intertwined

The next morning, after sending Silas off to work, the calendar notification on my phone vibrated. I glanced at the flashing screen and let out a soft sigh.

Today was the day I visited my mother in Queens.

My parents divorced when I was very young.

My father was a charismatic Wall Street broker who had never loved my mother. He’d been having an affair with a wealthy socialite for years and already had a daughter with her—a daughter older than me.

My mother raised me entirely on her own, working herself to the bone just to make ends meet. Seeing her so exhausted, I swore I would study hard, get scholarships, and make her proud.

However, my luck always seemed to work against me. At the elite private school I attended on scholarship, I became the target of a vicious group of rich kids.

I hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe my clothes were last season; maybe I didn't have a chauffeur to drop me off. The more I tried to ignore them, the more I was tormented.

One afternoon, behind the bleachers, they cornered me. I had a jagged brick hidden in my backpack, fully prepared to take their ringleader down with me. The lead girl sneered and stepped forward, ready to carry out whatever cruel act she had planned.

And then, Silas Vance appeared.

He was an upperclassman, already a legend at the school and the heir to a financial empire. He just stood between us, his gaze commanding, and my bullies scattered like cockroaches.

He was smart; he knew they would come back. For the next three years, he would casually acknowledge me in the hallways, acting as a silent barrier against my tormentors.

I survived middle and high school safely solely because of him.

That was why I had chased him so desperately. I fought to get into Columbia University just to be near him, trying to become someone worthy of his world.

But I was still a step too late.

Just as Silas had been a ray of light in my darkness, he had found a light of his own.

Serena Thorne.

My biological father's daughter. My half-sister.