My Stepsister Stole My Husband, So I Took His Enemy

After hearing his curt reply, he turned on his heel and walked away. No second glance, no hesitation.

The smile that had been teasing my lips disappeared. I looked down at the silver necklace he had given me on our wedding day. Back then, I was naive enough to treasure that simple little chain, like it actually meant something, just a tiny symbol of care, however small.

Now? He could walk away without blinking and spoil Claudia with diamonds worth a hundred million.

I picked up the necklace and tossed it into the trash bag along with everything else I used to feel for him.

Holding the divorce papers in my hand, I smiled.

This time, it wasn’t for show. It was real.

From here on out, I wouldn’t have to see either of them again.

I stepped out of the villa, that place that never once felt like mine.

As I pulled out my phone to call a cab, one came into view in the distance. I waved it down.

The engine started roaring louder.

Then my eyes went wide.

The car wasn’t stopping. It was speeding right at me.

My body flew through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into the pavement right at the villa’s entrance. Blood soaked my clothes. Everything hurt—burning, stabbing, screaming pain in every inch of me.

I tried to lift my head through the haze.

Behind the glass, I saw Russell’s silhouette.

I wanted to scream. I tried to call out and beg for help.

But no sound came out. Just tears, hot and bitter, rolling down my face.

Then I saw her. Claudia walked over, slipped her arms around him, and kissed him like she had all the time in the world.

She turned him away from me.

Russell’s breathing got heavier. His hands started pulling at her clothes, right there, up against the window.

Before I passed out, I caught one last thing.

Claudia looked at me. Smiled.

“My dear sweet sister, rest well,” she mouthed.

...

When I woke up, I couldn’t move. It felt like I’d been hit by a freight train.

I stared up at the white hospital ceiling, barely able to breathe, but somehow just glad to still be alive.

A nurse caught sight of me and nearly dropped her clipboard. She rushed out to grab the doctor.

When he came in, I found out I’d been unconscious for a week. They said I’d been in critical condition when they brought me in. Bruises everywhere. Several broken bones.

And in all that time, not a single message.

Not one from the man I was still married to.

I didn’t say much. Just asked, “Where’s my divorce agreement?”

The nurse hesitated, then handed over a copy.

It was stained with blood.

I ran my fingers along the dark bloodstains on it.

That was all the proof I needed for my dead, numb heart.

After the doctor gave me his rundown and was about to say more, shouting broke out in the hallway.

“If you don’t admit Claudia, I’ll make sure this hospital goes bankrupt!!” a voice thundered.

My body tensed. I leaned on the crutches beside my bed and peeked out.

There he was. Russell. Holding Claudia like she was made of glass.

She looked fine. Flushed and glowing, not a scratch on her.

The doctor sounded nervous. “Sir, she only has a minor burn on her hand. It’ll heal fast. She doesn't need to be hospitalized.”

Russell shot him a look that shut him right up.

Then, suddenly, he looked up and locked eyes with me.

His brow furrowed. “What are you doing here? You’re injured?”

He looked like he might come closer, but then he remembered Claudia was in his arms.

Instead of letting her go, he walked straight over.

Still holding her, he said, “Give your bed to Claudia. Name your price.”

He didn’t even ask how I felt, and didn’t suggest. Russell just picked her up and laid her down in my hospital bed like I didn’t exist.

Still pretending to care, Claudia whispered, “Russell, my sister appears to be more injured than I am."

Russell just patted her head like she was a child. “She’s faking. Ignore her. You’re the one who matters most to me.”

In bitter pain, I laughed, even though my ribs screamed in protest.

'What was my pathetic marriage worth, really?' I couldn't help but ask myself.

Right then, I hated myself for marrying him at all.

I turned and limped out of the room—blank expression, heart hollow.

“No need. I’ll give you the bed,” I told the nurse.

Let Claudia have it. She could take the bed, the pity, the man.

She already had all of it, anyway.

...

My phone was loaded with missed calls from Jacob, but I let them sit.

When I finally called him back, he picked up right away.

“I’ve been abroad. What’s happening on your side? Did you get the divorce yet?”

I knew what he meant. Once the divorce was final, he’d move in on Russell without mercy.

But I stayed calm. “No rush. Let the bullets fly for a while.”

I wanted to handle this my way. Pay back what I owe on my terms.

I rested quietly, relieved that I hadn’t injured my fingers. Otherwise, I’d never be able to paint again.

Then one day, Russell finally took me off his blacklist and messaged me. “Claudia’s trying on wedding dresses. As her elder sister, don’t you feel responsible? Get here now.”

My leg wasn’t fully healed yet. I could barely get around with a wheelchair, and crutches weren’t much better.

I wanted to say no. Really did.

But before I could type a single word, he hung up.

When I tried calling Russell back, I found out he blocked me again.

I let out a short laugh.

Fine. They want me there?

Since they want me to show up so badly, I’m gonna make them regret ever asking.