I stood by the kitchen sink, my hands submerged in warm, soapy water as I scrubbed at a stubborn plate. The sound of glass clinking and light chatter filled the air as the maids hurried around, adding finishing touches to the lavish birthday celebration. Carolyn’s special day. Florence had spared no expense—gleaming crystal chandeliers, gold-trimmed tablecloths, and a cake so large, it could easily serve a small town.
He treated her like royalty, like she was the one meant to rule this territory. Me? I was nothing more than a shadow in the background, a mere servant to them both.
But I refused to let it get to me. Not when Seth and I were working on something much bigger. Every insult, every slight would be paid back in time.
"Still at it, Aimee?" Carolyn’s voice cut through the air, sharp and mocking.
I turned to see her leaning casually against the doorway, her red silk dress clinging to her curves. She looked every bit the part of the pampered princess, a smug smirk on her face that made my skin crawl.
"Such a good sister," she cooed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Helping with my party. Truly selfless."
I ignored her, dunking another dish into the water. She thrived on trying to get under my skin.
But then she took it too far. "I can’t say I blame Florence for treating me better than you," she sneered, lowering her voice. "I mean, look at you—plain, pathetic, and desperate."
My hands stiffened around the sponge. Anger surged up, but I shoved it back down. I spun around, locking eyes with her.
"At least I’m not a spoiled brat who needs constant attention to feel important," I shot back, my tone icy but cutting.
Her smirk faltered briefly, but she quickly regained composure. Before she could fire back, Florence appeared, his towering figure placing itself between us like a wall.
"Aimee," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "Don’t start something."
My blood boiled, but I forced a tight smile. "Maybe you should keep your dog on a leash," I retorted, sweet as venom. "She’s the one barking."
Florence’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say another word. Carolyn huffed in annoyance and stormed off, her heels clicking angrily against the polished floor. I grabbed a towel, wiped my hands, and barely spared Florence a glance as I headed upstairs.
At the far end of the hallway, Seth stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the crowd below. Carolyn and Florence were easy to spot, their laughter and flirtation cutting through the air even from here.
Seth’s posture was tense, fists clenched at his sides.
"Still watching them?" I asked quietly as I approached.
He turned, his face dark. "It’s hard not to."
I nodded in understanding. "Come on," I said, motioning toward my room. "Let’s talk."
Inside, I closed the door behind us and leaned against it. Seth began pacing the small room, his frustration palpable.
"I want to expose them," I said, my voice firm and unwavering.
Seth stopped, his brows furrowing. "Now?"
I hesitated, the weight of our father’s deteriorating health pressing down on me. "No," I confessed, sighing. "It’s not the right time. Not with your father in such bad shape. We can’t risk adding to his stress."
Seth’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "You’re right. But it doesn’t make it any easier to watch them flaunt it like this."
His voice was bitter, and when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, my heart sank.
"I was going to propose to her tonight," he said, opening the box to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. "For her birthday."
The words hit me like a punch in the stomach. Seth’s heartbreak was raw, and suddenly, my own pain seemed small in comparison.
"I’m sorry," I said quietly, stepping closer to him. "But maybe this is a sign she wasn’t the one for you. You deserve someone better, Seth. Someone who won’t betray you."
He gave me a sad smile. "You’re kind, Aimee. Even when you’re in pain, you think of others."
His eyes lingered on me, and suddenly, the air between us shifted. A subtle but undeniable tension crackled in the space, and my pulse quickened.
"Seth…" I began, unsure of what I was feeling.
But before I could finish, there was a sharp knock at the door.
We both froze, and when the door opened, Florence stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable and dark.
"What are you two doing?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
The room fell silent, and my heart raced as I met Florence’s gaze, his eyes darting between Seth and me. I knew that look—he wasn’t just suspicious; he was furious.
And I couldn’t help but enjoy the jealousy I saw in his eyes.
