Living in the Steele's mansion was supposed to be a blessing, but rather, it was a curse… my personal hell. The marble floor I scrubbed till my knees ached, the furniture I dusted everyday, none of them belonged to me, even though I carried the Steele name.
They all belonged to Claudia, my half-sister. She had everything I didn't and would never have: our father's love, a mother who adored her, and a beautiful future secured with an engagement with the wealthiest man in our city. Sometimes at night, I would lie awake, wondering what it would be like to be her, to have people look at me with something other than contempt.
But today, that familiar longing would be the least of my worry, because everything I knew was about to turn upside down.
"You lying little thief!" Claudia's voice echoed behind me. I slowly turned around to face her, holding the basket of laundry tightly.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"My diamond necklace, the one Alexander gave me. It's gone. And I know you took it." Her blue eyes, so like our father, blazed with hatred.
Here again. I haven't healed from the last punishment, and this? Would she ever leave me alone?
"I didn't… take anything…" I said, my voice already shaking. It didn't matter if I was innocent. It never did.
Before I knew it, I was surrounded. My father stood by the fireplace with a serious expression, my birth mother hovered near the doorway. She was always distancing herself from the family, despite being my father's mistress for years. And my stepmother, Claudia's mother, stood in the middle as always.
"Empty your pocket," she demanded, coldly.
"I don't have it," I insisted. Yet, I emptied my pocket with my trembling hand, showing them nothing but lint and a hair tie.
"Check her room," my father ordered the maid, who hurried away immediately.
Fear began to gather in my throat like acid with each passing second.
"You won't find anything because I didn't take it," I tried to defend myself desperately. "When would I even have the chance? I have been cleaning the second floor all morning."
"She's lying, dad! She has always been jealous of me," Claudia said, her voice a perfect mix of anger and fake hurt.
The maid returned, shaking her head. No necklace was found.
Instead of bringing relief, Irene seemed even more angry.
"You must have hidden it somewhere else or sold it already. You little wretch!"
"I didn't…"
The slap came without warning, Irene's hand connecting with my cheek so hard my head snapped to the side.
"Please…" I begged, looking to my birth mother. "Mother, tell them I would never do this…"
But Serrafina looked away, just as always. She never stood up for me, not once in my twenty-one years. I was her shame, her mistake; something that shouldn't have existed.
"I think a punishment is in order," Irene said, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Mary, bring me my sewing kit."
My blood ran cold. "No, please…"
"Hold her down," Irene instructed two of the maids, who grabbed my arms with apologetic looks. They knew what was coming too.
"No, let me go," I yelled, struggling to free myself. But to no avail. Mary came back with the kit and Irene removed a handful of thin, sharp needles. The sight of them made me want to throw up in fear.
"Let's see if this would help you remember where you put my daughter's necklace."
"I don't have it! I swear!" The words tore from my throat. "Father, please…"
And again my father turned away, lighting a cigarette as if his daughter wasn't about to be tortured in his living room.
When the first needle pierced my fingertip, a high shriek erupted in my throat. By the third finger, tears streamed down my face, blinding me. By the time she finished with my ten, my entire body was shaking uncontrollably. My fingers were throbbing and bleeding.
"Found your voice yet?" Irene asked, wiping my blood from her hands with a handkerchief.
I couldn't speak through my sob, collapsing to the floor when the maids released me.
"Such a disappointment," Claudia laughed, examining her perfect fingers. "Can't even take a little pain."
I curled my bleeding fingers to my chest, wondering what I have done to deserve this. Was being born by the wrong woman such a terrible sin?
A heavy footsteps approached. I looked up through my tear-soaked lashes to see my father standing over me, his face twisted with disgust.
"Clean yourself up," he said flatly. "You are getting married tomorrow."
The words didn't make sense at first, or perhaps, I misheard him. "What?"
"The stylists are already here. Don't make me repeat myself."
"Married? To whom? Why?" the questions tumbled out, despite the pain.
"Don't ask questions," he snapped. "Just do as you're told for once in your miserable life." Without another word, he turned and left the room.
"I heard he's an old man," Claudia said with mock sympathy. "He will probably die soon and you will spend your whole life as a widow. How pathetic."
She linked arms with her mother, both of them laughing as they left the room.
Only my mother remained, staring down at me with cold eyes.
"Mother, please," I pleaded, crawling towards her on my knees. "Talk to him. Make him change his mind. I will be better. I promise. Don't let them sell me off like that."
I reached for the herm of her expensive dress, not caring about the red liquid in my hands. She stepped back as if I was contagious.
"You have always been nothing but trouble," she whispered, her first words to me all day. "This is for the best."
As she walked away, the door closing behind her, I realized how lonely I was. There would be no rescue, no escape.
Tomorrow, I will be married to a stranger.