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They Broke My Sister, I Broke the Show Novel Cover

They Broke My Sister, I Broke the Show

Returning to Colorado, an heiress finds her celebrity sister publicly humiliated on a variety show by her uncle’s mistress and her own discarded ex-boyfriend. When her sister is mocked for wearing handmade hairpins, she takes action. Investing in the show, she joins the cast to expose the truth. As their sisterly bond is revealed, the bullies crumble. When her ex begs for a second chance, she coldly reveals he was merely a pawn in a game played with her fiancé.
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Chapter 3

Just then, the rear window of the car slid down, and Paula leaned her head out with a syrupy smile.

"Stella's sister," she said sweetly, "I was only able to complete my mission today thanks to Clark’s help. It wouldn’t be right to leave him behind when we go for dinner, don’t you think?"

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Ah, there it was—the veiled accusation that I was freeloading off her “generosity.”

I folded my arms and replied evenly, “Then how about this—you get out, and my sister and I will cover our own dinner.”

The smile slipped from her face. Paula yanked the door open with a snap. “Fine! If you want to get out, get out. The program team made me spend my own money today anyway!”

She stepped out and turned to Stella, eyebrows raised in faux concern. “Stella, think about this carefully. You didn’t complete your mission. Even if you have a car, you won’t be allowed to eat. But I earned today’s reward—I can pay for dinner.”

I tilted my head, still smiling. “Are you trying to guilt my sister into abandoning me? Or are you hoping she’ll feel bad that her partner helped you instead and lost her the right to eat?”

Paula flinched. “Of course not! That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Of course not,” I echoed with a pleasant smile. “I believe you. Since you’re happy to spend your own money, then you should have no problem calling a taxi.”

With that, I slid into the driver’s seat and turned to the last remaining guest still in the car—Adam.

“If you don’t mind being the third wheel, you’re welcome to join us.”

Adam, ever the seasoned veteran, met my gaze calmly. He understood exactly what was happening. Paula and Clark were hyping a love interest storyline; Stella was positioned as the contrast, the foil. And he? He was the disposable pawn in their script.

“I appreciate it,” he said simply, settling back into his seat. “I’d rather not play lightbulb tonight.”

[Is this a love team breakup?!]

[Honestly, good. Paula and Clark are the real match.]

[LOL, Cara thought she was flexing, but she just got embarrassed.]

[Clark was Stella’s partner, but helped Paula instead. Now Paula’s mocking Stella for failing the mission? That’s low.]

[Don’t be fooled. The show set this up deliberately—classic drama bait. Adam should’ve distanced himself from the Hartman sisters while he had the chance.]

I was about to start the car when a knock tapped at my window.

I rolled it down to find Paula there again, putting on her best “concerned” expression.

“The program team doesn’t allow guests to spend personal money. Even if you're new, you still have to follow the rules.”

I nodded. “I’m aware.”

“But if you really want to eat something, I can cover it for you.” Her voice was light, generous—for the cameras.

I glanced at her, then smiled faintly. “Thanks, but no. I’d hate to max out your card.”

[Cara is so ungrateful.]

[She's nasty. Paula just offered to pay, and she has to be rude?]

[The Hartman sisters are a pair—one’s a sob story factory, the other a toxic alpha.]

“Sis…” Stella tugged at my sleeve, her voice small. She was reminding me: this was still live.

I shut the window and shifted into drive. “I’m serious. I’m doing her a favor—credit cards have limits.”

The hate poured in through the livestream barrage, but I didn’t care. I drove straight to the most exclusive chain of luxury restaurants in the country.

When we pulled up, Adam finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“Are you sure about this place?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded. “Absolutely. If we’re not eating here, then what’s the point?”

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