Chapter 2

I'd barely stepped out of the dorm.

The next second I heard someone downstairs shouting that my parents were here.

I hurried down.

From a distance I could see my mother, Julia Finch, standing beside the dorm's main entrance, holding a thermal container in both hands.

I opened my mouth to call out to her.

She shoved me aside and turned, all smiles, toward Rachel Fox, who had somehow appeared behind me.

Rachel had a worn canvas bag slung over her shoulder, one hand resting lightly on her belly.

"Oh my, so this is Rachel? What a sweet girl. Drink this chicken tonic soup while it's warm, take care of yourself, and don't overdo it!"

There was a tenderness on her face I had never once seen in nineteen years.

My father, Boris Gilbert, didn't so much as glance at me, his eyes glued to the curve of Rachel's waist.

Then he turned on me and barked like he was scolding a dog.

"What are you standing there for? Go help your new roommate with her bag! I raised you all these years and you don't have an ounce of manners!"

Students passing by turned to look, and a few even pulled out their phones to film it.

I stood there like a joke, watching this whole absurd scene play out in front of me.

Just then the Bvlgari bracelet on Rachel's wrist spoke up.

"Master, your mom put a very expensive prenatal tonic into that chicken soup! She's known for ages that Boris Gilbert and Rachel Fox are together! To get herself a son to carry on the name, she not only let your dad take a mistress, she and Rachel worked it all out that you'd be the free nanny waiting on her through her confinement!"

My mind went off with a roar.

My own mother, carrying prenatal tonic to look after my father's mistress?

And I was supposed to be the nanny nursing her through her confinement?

That wasn't even the end of it. Boris spoke again.

"Rachel and your mother and I hit it off the moment we met. We're going to take her on as our goddaughter."

"That courtyard estate your grandfather left you, we're going tomorrow to sign it over into Rachel's name! Call it a gift for our goddaughter!"

My eyes went wide, my fingers clenching hard, my whole body shaking and unable to stop.

Not from fear. From hate.

Because they wanted a son over a daughter, they'd had no use for me since I was small.

My father resented that I couldn't carry on the line, my mother resented that I gave people something to gossip about. They never gave me a cent, never gave me a kind look.

Only my grandfather took me in and raised me like I was precious.

The courtyard estate was the last bit of ground my grandfather left me to stand on.

After he was gone, I thought college would be a fresh start, that I might even make true friends.

And this was how it turned out.

They'd actually banded together to scheme against me, all for that unformed scrap of flesh in Rachel's belly.

Where did they find the nerve?

I shouted at them.

"No!"

Boris heard it and slapped me across the face on the spot.

Crack!

I cupped my burning, swollen cheek and pressed down the towering hatred inside me.

Not enough evidence, wrong timing. Turning on them now would only tip them off.

I'd hidden pinhole cameras and listening devices inside every gift I'd given them.

I had to endure it, had to let them keep thinking I was the same easy fool.

Let them keep grasping, keep performing, keep jumping into the pit I'd dug.

Then, out in front of the dorm building, came a burst of screeching brakes.

Angela Perry came running over looking guilty, several vans pulling up behind her.

More than a dozen burly men came piling out, clubs in hand, arms covered in tattoos.

At their head, Scarface fixed a cold stare on me.

"Juliana Gilbert! You owe a hundred thousand, so pay up! No money today and we take you to work off the debt!"