Chapter2

The next evening, at the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. I wore the same three-hundred-dollar dress from five years ago. A stubborn coffee stain on the collar was hidden beneath a brooch.

Elias was deep in the crowd talking to shareholders. Seeing me approach, his gaze paused for a fraction of a second.

"You still kept that dress?"

"Yes."

"Have my assistant order a new one next time." He turned his attention back to his audience. "The L.A. branch relies completely on Mia. She can pull more all-nighters than I can."

My good friend Raven walked over holding a glass of champagne. She wore a dark gray skirt suit, her hair tucked neatly behind her ears. She threw a glance at Elias's back.

"I heard your husband's speech just now. You wrote that core documentation, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

Raven took a sip of her drink. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried enough for a few people nearby to hear. "Then you deserve a hell of a lot of credit. The man is praising his own stepsister in front of the shareholders. Is he out of his mind?"

Elias turned around. Seeing Raven standing next to me, the smile on his face turned cold for a second.

"Raven, you're here too."

"It's your gala, of course I had to come," Raven smiled. "After all, I was one of the people pulling all-nighters back in the day with that ragged towel draped over the back of a chair."

Someone was taking photos in the corner. I hadn't noticed when Mia slipped in beside me. She wore a silver, off-the-shoulder evening gown, the marks on her collarbone mostly masked by concealer.

"Clara," she smiled. "Don't blame Elias. When the system crashed last week, he stayed in the conference room alone until dawn. I was the one who draped his suit jacket over his shoulders. He didn't even realize he was shivering."

The champagne glass in her hand suddenly tilted. Almost the entire glass splashed directly onto my chest.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry, Clara..."

Raven snatched a napkin from a passing waiter and pressed it hard against my chest. "Splashed with such perfect aim. If your hand shakes that badly, how did you manage to hold a glass steady all night?"

"Raven, I really didn't mean to..." Mia's eyes reddened.

Elias walked over and glanced at the wine stain on my dress. He opened his mouth, his eyes darting slightly for a split second, as if aware of the onlookers.

But a second later, Mia shrank her shoulders back. "It was an accident. Please don't be mad at me, Elias."

His hesitation vanished instantly. "Go to the restroom and clean yourself up."

He turned to Mia, his voice dropping to a low register. "Are you alright? You didn't cut your hand, did you?" He took Mia's hand and led her toward the private lounge. The hem of her silver dress brushed lightly against his suit trousers.

Raven stood rooted to the spot and scoffed. "Did you hear that? He just asked the person who threw the drink if she was alright. I'll go to the restroom with you."

The restroom. The woman in the mirror was deathly pale. Mia pushed the door open and walked in, methodically wiping her fingers.

"You know, when he made me pasta, I was wearing that white shirt. He said the way I sat on the kitchen island looked exactly like someone else. Clara, who do you think that person is?"

Raven took a step forward. I grabbed her wrist and looked at Mia through the mirror. "Next time you wear his white shirt, remember to iron it first. He hates wrinkles."

The smile on Mia's face froze for a second. She turned and walked out.

Raven waited until she was far enough away before cursing under her breath. "That bitch has some nerve. Clara, let's just leave right now. You don't need to go back out there and watch that show."

"I need to watch," I said. "I want to see exactly how far he can go."

I pushed the door and walked out. The microphone whined through the grand ballroom. Elias's voice projected over the speakers: "...Over the past year, I want to give my special thanks to one person, my stepsister, Mia. The core system migration relied entirely on her. Without her, this architecture would never have gotten off the ground."

Standing beside me, Raven let out a cold scoff. "You wrote the core architecture, and now he's reading the acknowledgment to someone else. What did you waste these past five years for?"

Elias reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a velvet box. It was the golden pin—the one I designed, the prototype of the logo I drew five years ago. On stage, he pinned it to Mia's chest. Applause erupted from the crowd.

Raven's hand gripped my wrist like a vice. "Is that..."

"Yeah. I drew it."

I pushed through the crowd and walked forward. "Elias," I stated, standing at the foot of the stage. "I drew that pin. Did you even ask me?"

Mia swayed a half-step into him, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Elias... I feel dizzy..."

He instantly braced her shoulders, then looked down at me, the last shred of his patience completely gone. "Enough. Mia has depression, can't you just let this go and stop provoking her? Escort my wife out to rest."

Two men in black suits approached. Raven threw herself in front of me. "Don't you dare touch her!"

"Raven, don't cause a scene. She's my wife, naturally they won't harm her," Elias replied coldly from the stage. "Besides, this is a family matter."

"A family matter?" Raven pointed accusingly at Mia. "Then what the hell is she?"

The two security guards half-supported, half-dragged me backward by my arms. Raven was blocked by another guard. I looked back at her one last time—she was standing there, her face flushed red with fury.

The grand doors opened, letting in the biting wind of late autumn. I was shoved down the front steps, my knees slamming hard against the granite. The heavy doors slammed shut behind me.

Then they opened again. Raven chased after me, her high heels clicking sharply down the steps. She crouched down, looking at the blood on my knees.

"I'm taking you home."

"No need."

"Clara—"

"Leave me alone."

She looked at me for a few seconds. Standing up, she took off her suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. "Keep your phone on." She turned around and walked away.

I sat on the bottom concrete step, Raven's jacket draped over my shoulders. Unzipping my evening clutch, I pulled out the ultrasound slip. I unfolded it and stared at it for a long time. The wind was fierce. I tore the paper into shreds. The pieces were swept up by the wind, swirling under the streetlamp.

A sudden, agonizing cramp shot up from my abdomen. Blood gushed out, running down my inner thighs. I slipped on the steps, scraping the skin off my palms as I caught my fall. I fumbled for my phone. At the very top of my recent calls was "Elias."