Stranded For His Fake Sister

Colton's POV:

The anger was a hot, bitter taste in my mouth, burning away the last vestiges of my self-pity. Krystle. It had to be Krystle. The slashed wedding dress, the missing personal items-it was all her, a calculated act of malice. And I had been too blind, too complicit, to see it.

I stormed out of the penthouse, the image of Kattie's ruined dreams searing into my mind. I drove directly to the Knowles mansion, my heart thudding with a mixture of dread and furious resolve.

When I arrived, the mansion was strangely quiet. I let myself in, calling out for Krystle. No answer.

I found Lily in the living room, playing with her doll. She looked up, her innocent eyes widening.

"Colton!" she exclaimed, her voice bright. She ran to me, her arms outstretched for a hug.

I knelt, forcing a smile, trying to push down the rage coiling inside me. "Hey, sweet pea. Where's your mom?"

"Mommy's upstairs," Lily chirped. "She's packing up Kattie's old room. She said Kattie won't be needing it anymore."

My blood ran cold. "Packing up Kattie's old room?" I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.

Just then, Krystle descended the grand staircase, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She held a large box, overflowing with Kattie's belongings.

"Oh, Colton, darling!" she exclaimed, feigning surprise. "What brings you here so early? Did Kattie finally get home?" Her eyes, however, sparkled with an unmistakable mischief.

My gaze fixed on the box in her arms. I recognized Kattie's worn-out copy of "The Fountainhead," a book she cherished. A small, handcrafted wooden bird, a gift from her grandmother. And a sketchbook, its cover adorned with her unique architectural designs.

"What are you doing with Kattie's things?" I demanded, my voice low and dangerous.

Krystle put on her innocent act, her eyes widening. "Oh, these old things? Flonnie said Kattie wouldn't be needing them anymore. She wants Kattie's room to be a dance studio for Lily. Isn't that sweet?"

My jaw tightened. "A dance studio? For Lily?" My voice was tight with disbelief.

"Yes! Lily loves to dance," Krystle beamed, pulling Lily closer. "And Kattie never really used that room, did she? Always off in her own little world."

"That was her room!" I exploded, unable to contain my anger any longer. "Those are her things! How dare you just throw them out?"

Krystle flinched, pulling Lily behind her. Lily, sensing the tension, started to whimper.

"Colton, you're scaring Lily!" Krystle cried, her voice trembling. "What is wrong with you?"

Just then, Kamren, Kattie' s younger brother, appeared at the top of the stairs, drawn by the commotion. He took in the scene: Krystle, teary and sheltering Lily; me, red-faced and furious; and the box of Kattie' s things.

"What's going on here?" Kamren demanded, his hot-headed nature instantly flaring. He descended the stairs, positioning himself protectively in front of Krystle and Lily.

"Colton's being irrational," Krystle sniffled, her voice barely a whisper. "He's upset about Kattie's room. He's saying terrible things."

Kamren turned his angry gaze on me. "What the hell is your problem, Colton? Kattie left, it's not our fault. Krystle's just trying to make the best of a bad situation."

"She didn't 'leave'," I retorted, my voice laced with venom. "I left her on the side of the road. And Krystle did this." My gaze shot to the box.

Kamren scoffed. "Krystle? Don't be ridiculous. Krystle would never hurt anyone. Especially not Kattie, who's always been so mean to her."

"Mean to her?" I repeated, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Kamren, Krystle has been manipulating you all since you were kids. She's a master at it. She's been poisoning your minds against Kattie for years."

Kamren's face flushed red. "How dare you! Krystle is family! She filled the void after Kattie was kidnapped. She's the only reason this family stayed sane. Kattie was always the problem, the outsider. She never fit in. She never tried!"

His words hit me like a physical blow. Kattie, the "rough, unrefined outsider." Krystle, the cherished "princess." It was exactly what Flonnie and Kenneth had always believed. What they had drilled into Kamren.

My anger, for a moment, was overshadowed by a creeping realization. Kamren, still so young, so easily manipulated. He truly believed Krystle's lies. He was defending her, just as he always had. Just as I always had.

My eyes swept across the grand foyer. No Flonnie, no Kenneth. Just Kamren, Krystle, and Lily, a twisted family portrait. This fight wasn't just about Kattie and me. It was about the systemic neglect, the ingrained favoritism, the willful blindness that had plagued this family for years.

Then, Krystle, seeing her advantage, stepped forward, her voice rising in a dramatic crescendo. "He's just upset because Kattie finally got what she deserved! She was always so cold, so distant. She never appreciated anything you did for her, Colton."

She turned to Kamren, her eyes wide and innocent. "She even tried to sabotage my relationship with Colton! Saying he was too good for me, that I wasn't good enough for the Knowles family. She was always so jealous."

That was the last straw. My gaze snapped to Krystle. Her words, so carefully chosen, were designed to paint Kattie as the villain, herself as the fragile victim.

But something shifted in Kamren's eyes. A flicker of doubt. He looked from Krystle's feigned tears to my furious, unyielding expression. He knew Kattie. He knew me. And something in Krystle's performance felt… off.

I saw it. That tiny crack in his conviction.

My voice, when I spoke, was surprisingly calm. "Kamren, think about it. Really think. Krystle has always been the one stirring trouble, then playing the victim. Remember that expensive vase that 'fell' when Kattie was alone in the room? The one Krystle swore Kattie broke, but Kattie never touched?"

Kamren's eyes widened slightly. He remembered. They all remembered. It was one of Krystle's earliest and most successful framing attempts.

"Security footage," I continued, my voice gaining strength. "Didn't Dad install new cameras last year? Let's check the footage from the last few days. Let's see who really slashed Kattie's wedding dress, who really threw out her belongings."

Krystle's face, a second ago full of indignant tears, went utterly white. Her eyes darted from me to Kamren, then to the security camera discreetly placed in the corner of the foyer.

Kamren' s eyes followed Krystle' s gaze. His jaw hung slack. He knew. We all knew. The security cameras were everywhere. And they didn't lie.

The silence that followed was deafening. Krystle's mask shattered, revealing the true, vindictive woman beneath. Her triumphant smirk, now twisted into a desperate snarl.

"You're making this up!" she shrieked, her voice shrill and ugly. "Kattie's just a jealous witch! She always has been! She just wants to ruin everything for me!"

Kamren looked at Krystle, then back at me. The doubt in his eyes solidified into cold, hard certainty. He had been so blind. So utterly fooled.

My gaze met Krystle's. Her defeat was palpable. The game was up. Her reign as the cherished princess was over.

For a brief, fleeting moment, a wave of bitter satisfaction washed over me. This was the moment of reckoning. The truth, finally, would come out.

But it was too late for Kattie. She was gone.

And it was all my fault.