Chapter 7

That night, Audrey called me to gloat. Her voice was dripping with cruel excitement.

"Elena, are you broken yet? Are you crying in some dark corner of his apartment?"

"Let me tell you, Royce and I are getting married soon."

"You will always be a piece of trash compared to me."

I chuckled and hung up the phone.

Honestly, when we were kids, my parents didn't hate me this much.

But Audrey was masterfully evil. She loved to manipulate them.

She would break expensive things in the house and blame it on me.

She spread disgusting rumors about me in school, making our relatives and neighbors think I was a juvenile delinquent.

When my grades were better than hers, she accused me of cheating, leading to me being severely bullied at school.

She would often look at our mother with a sigh and say:

"Mom, I really wanted a little brother. It's such a shame Elena was born a girl."

"Do you think she's a curse? Since she was born, you haven't been able to get pregnant again."

Over time, my parents started looking at me like I was their sworn enemy.

They truly believed I was a curse on their lives, no matter how much I denied it.

I used to fight it. I begged for their love, threw tantrums, and lost my mind.

I was their daughter. I desperately wanted them to love me, even just a little bit.

But over the years, countless moments taught me a harsh truth: some parents simply do not love their children.

Once I accepted that, the pain faded, leaving me numb.

Audrey thought that by stealing Royce, she could rewrite her destiny and keep me under her thumb.

She probably never imagined in her wildest dreams that the billionaire heir was a trap I had prepared for her.

I moved into my own apartment, and Oliver didn't dare to stop me.

Audrey kept posting photos of Royce's luxury cars on her Instagram.

She posted daily updates, bragging about how much Royce loved her.

But people in her comment section kept asking: *“Why is the billionaire heir never in any of your photos?”*

Audrey would reply: *“He values his privacy.”*

I smiled when I saw that.

Was it really about privacy?

Today, my mom called me, saying Royce was coming over to discuss the wedding. She demanded I bring Oliver along.

When Oliver and I arrived at the house, Royce was leaning elegantly against the sofa.

His dark, unreadable eyes swept over me.