Chapter 04
1502 Words
SIANNA SAT frozen on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing.
No matter how much she tried to twist the truth, no matter how many excuses her mind attempted to invent, one reality remained painfully clear. She had given away the one thing she had protected all her life—to a man who was not her fiancé.
And no amount of crying could ever undo that.
So there she was, empty-eyed, unmoving, her thoughts spiraling into a hollow void where grief, shame, and disbelief tangled together until she could no longer separate one from the other.
The silence inside her room felt suffocating.
Then suddenly—
Her phone rang.
The sound sliced through the stillness like a blade, sharp and jarring, making her flinch violently. The ringtone felt far too loud in the quiet space, echoing against the walls as if mocking her fragile state.
Her heart lurched when she saw the caller ID.
Her father.
Sianna picked up her phone with trembling fingers. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, forcing her voice into something that resembled normalcy before answering.
“Yes, `Pa?” she greeted, trying to keep her tone even.
“Come home. Now.”
Her father’s voice was hard. Angry. Unyielding.
Her brows knitted together in confusion. “N-now?” she asked hesitantly.
The thought of leaving her condo, of facing anyone at all, made her chest tighten. She felt emotionally drained, physically sore, and mentally exhausted.
She was already overwhelmed. The night’s events had crushed her.
“I said come home. Don’t make me repeat myself,” her father snapped.
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, the line went dead.
He had hung up on her.
Sianna stared at her phone for a long moment before letting it fall limply onto the bed beside her.
She had already showered earlier when she returned to her condo, scrubbing her skin raw as if she could wash away everything that had happened. Now, she simply changed into something comfortable—careful with her movements, wincing slightly at the lingering soreness between her thighs.
She applied makeup with practiced precision, concealing the exhaustion in her eyes, hiding the emotional wreckage beneath foundation and powder. When she finally looked in the mirror, she appeared presentable. Calm. Composed.
No one would know how broken she felt inside.
Dressed in a simple white dress, she grabbed her bag and forced herself to leave.
Her father’s house stood in a quiet, unremarkable village—two stories tall, modest, and far from extravagant. The garage barely fit a single car, so she parked outside the gate instead.
If it were up to her, she would never set foot in that place again.
But she didn’t have a choice.
Her father had sounded furious. And she had no idea why.
The moment she stepped inside the house, everything happened too fast.
Her father’s hand struck her face with a loud, resounding slap.
The impact was so sudden, so forceful, that her head snapped to the side. The world spun briefly, her ears ringing as pain exploded across her cheek. If she hadn’t instinctively steadied herself, she might have collapsed onto the floor.
Her lips pressed together tightly as she absorbed the sting, her breath hitching.
It felt as if her father truly wanted to erase her existence in that moment.
She raised a hand to her cheek, her skin burning, her eyes filled with shock as she looked back at him.
“W-why—” she started, her voice trembling.
“How dare you, Sianna?” her father snarled. “Is this how I raised you?!”
Her chest constricted. “W-what did I even do?”
“What?” her stepmother Emma snapped, emerging from the kitchen. “Rose!” she called sharply.
Sianna’s gaze shifted toward the staircase.
Rose descended slowly, deliberately.
And when Sianna saw her, her breath caught.
There was a black eye blooming beneath one of Rose’s eyes. Scratches marred her cheek. Bruises darkened her arm.
“Take a good look at what you did to Rose?” Emma shouted at her. “Do you think this is fair?!”
Sianna’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Then, instead of fear, something bitter rose inside her.
She laughed.
A short, cold, sarcastic laugh.
“What’s this, Rose?” she said. “Your latest performance?”
Pain exploded in her arm as Emma suddenly grabbed her, fingers digging harshly into her skin.
“You still have the nerve to talk like that after what you did to her?” Emma hissed, her eyes narrowed with fury.
Sianna yanked her arm free and stepped back.
“Did you tell them how you got those injuries, Rose?” she asked sharply.
Rose moved closer to their father, clinging to his arm as though terrified of Sianna. Her expression shifted instantly—fragile, wounded, pitiful.
Sianna felt sick.
Rose deserved an award. She looked every bit the abused victim.
“I couldn’t accept that Wil finally woke up to the truth,” Rose said softly. “You got so angry when you saw me at his house that you beat me.”
Sianna’s fists clenched.
“You were furious because he loves me now,” Rose continued. “Not you. He’s marrying me, Sianna. Not you.”
Did Rose expect her to cry?
To collapse in despair because Wil chose her instead?
Did she not realize how easily love could die?
How quickly Sianna’s feelings for Wil had evaporated the moment she discovered his betrayal?
Their wedding was never happening. She had already walked away.
Sianna laughed again, bitter this time. “Really? Then congratulations. You suit each other perfectly. You’re both disgusting.”
“Watch your mouth!” her father snapped.
“Why?” she shot back. “Am I wrong?”
That was when it truly sank in.
She had no father anymore.
He stood there, defending a woman who wasn’t even his real daughter, believing every fabricated tear, every lie Rose fed him.
And Sianna?
She was the villain in her own childhood home.
“You are under my roof,” her father said coldly. “Know your place.”
“What place?” she demanded. “Who am I to you now, `Pa? Why do I feel like an outsider compared to that snake?”
“Will you stop?”
“You dragged me here just to scold me because she looks pitiful? If she weren’t such a desperate flirt who acts like men are running out in this world, would any of this have happened?”
Rose finally straightened, emboldened. “You still can’t accept that Wil loves me now, not you,” she said smugly. Then she turned to their father. “Papa, would you be angry if I marry Wil? It only makes sense—especially now that I’m pregnant.”
She placed a hand on her stomach.
Rose was pregnant.
And Wil was the father.
It felt like another knife driven into Sianna’s back.
So it had been going on for a long time.
“Surprised?” Rose taunted.
“If you’re pregnant,” Emma said, pulling Rose close, “Wil must take responsibility.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Call Wil. Have him come here.”
There was no sympathy for her.
She was the one betrayed, yet she stood alone.
Sianna swallowed hard, refusing to cry in front of them. She would not give Rose the satisfaction.
She had always felt it—Rose’s hunger for attention, for everything Sianna had. Her room. Her father’s affection. And now, even her fiancé.
She took one last look at them before turning and leaving without a word. The house felt like it was choking her.
She had nearly reached the gate when Rose grabbed her arm, chasing after her.
“How’s that, dear step-sis?” Rose said mockingly.
Sianna ripped her arm free. “How’s that?” she snapped. “You’re disgusting.”
“Disgusting? Or are you just miserable now that Wil won’t be yours?” Rose sneered. “You lost gold and got stone instead. Where will you find someone as rich as Wil now? He’s mine. Poor you.”
Sianna’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re money-hungry,” she said coldly. “Between us, I’m not the pitiful one. You are. An attention-seeker. A homewrecker. A snake. You think you struck gold? Good luck. One day, you’ll experience what I did with Wil. At least I can stand on my own feet. You? You survive off my father.”
Rose’s face tightened with rage as Sianna turned away.
She paused, glancing back once more.
“How many women do you think Wil will sleep with once he gets tired of you?” she asked calmly. “Better hold him tight. He might slip away.”
“f**k you, Sianna!” Rose screamed in anger.
Sianna just smiled at her.
At least for today, she didn’t leave without striking back.
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