Chapter 6
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He buried himself at the office for two straight days.
Meanwhile, I sorted through the wreckage of my life.
What I'd mistaken for love was nothing but humiliating deception.
My so-called happiness—just a cruel joke built on his lies.
It took three trips to haul away the box of memories I couldn't bear to keep.
As I reached the steps, Melanie Sinclair blocked my path. Her smug smile hid a dagger, much like the poisonous words she was about to unleash.
"Your mom couldn't handle being second-best, could she? Killed herself out of depression. Dad didn't even glance at her body."
I bit my tongue, but suddenly she screamed. She grabbed my wrist, then deliberately stumbled in her stilettos and threw herself down the steps.
Right on cue, Marcus rushed from his parking spot and hurried to Melanie's side.
She collapsed into his waiting arms.
"I'm okay," she whimpered. "Don't blame Natalie. Please don't be angry with her because of me."
Marcus's face hardened as he turned to me.
"It's been years since all that happened. She came to apologize for her mother's actions, and you pushed her? She's your blood sister, for God's sake."
Apologize?
Was that what she called an apology?
A bitter laugh escaped me.
"Apologizing? She was gloating about how her mother stole my father and formed their perfect little family. She was mocking my dead mother. Are you blind or just willfully ignorant?"
Melanie's face crumpled as tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Sister," she sobbed, "I know you hate me. I just wanted to clear things up. I don't want you misunderstanding Marcus because of me. It could hurt the company."
Marcus's voice dropped dangerously low.
"This isn't your fault. If she wants to make a scene, that's on her."
I laughed—a harsh, broken sound. Marcus Morgan could see everything except what was right in front of him.
As I opened my mouth, Melanie lunged at me again.
This time, I shoved her. Hard.
She crashed against the steps, blood immediately seeping through her clothes.
Marcus's eyes went wild with panic, then froze into chips of ice as he glared at me.
"No wonder your father cut you off all these years. You're exactly like your mother—irrational, unstable, violent."
Blood roared in my ears as I raised my hand, blind with fury.
"You heartless bastard—"
My palm connected with Melanie's cheek—she'd thrown herself between us.
Marcus shoved me back without hesitation.
My lower back slammed into the railing. Searing pain tore through my abdomen as cold sweat beaded on my forehead.
I tried to stand straight, but the pain dropped me to my knees on the cold stone steps, my shirt already soaked with sweat.
"Natalie!"
Realizing what he'd done, he reached toward me.
"Are you okay?"
White-faced, I tried to push him away, but the pain in my belly suddenly sharpened—like a knife twisting in my gut.
"Marcus."
I clutched his hand desperately.
"Hospital… the baby—"
Before I could finish, Melanie's desperate cries cut through the air.
"Marcus, my leg! I'm bleeding! The doctor warned this could happen—I need a hospital right now or I might—"
She crumpled to the ground in a dramatic heap.
Without a second's hesitation, Marcus's hand slipped from mine. Through my tears, I watched him scoop her up tenderly and rush away.
And just like that, the wound in my heart ripped open anew.
