Chapter 3: The Family That Wanted My Fortune
The first thing I heard the next morning was my mother’s voice.
Not in person.
On my phone.
I had been sitting beside Mia’s bed for almost six hours, watching her sleep between moments of restless pain. The doctor had given her medication, but every few hours she woke up frightened, asking if she had done something wrong.
Each time, I gave her the same answer.
“No, baby. You did nothing wrong.””
I repeated it until I believed it myself.
Then my phone started ringing.
Diane.
My mother.
I stared at the screen for several seconds.
A part of me—the old part, the daughter who still wanted her mother’s approval—wanted to answer.
Wanted to hear an explanation.
Wanted to believe there was some misunderstanding.
That maybe my mother had panicked.
Maybe she hadn’t realized what happened.
Maybe she regretted it.
That small voice inside me was the same voice that had spent thirty years making excuses for people who never apologized.
It was finally quiet.
I answered.
“What?””
There was no greeting.
No concern.
No question about Mia.
Just anger.
“Elena, what have you done?””
I looked toward my daughter.
She was awake now, coloring carefully with her left hand because her right wrist was wrapped in a cast.
She looked up when she heard my voice.
I softened my tone.
“Good morning, Mom.””
“Don’t do that.””
“Do what?””
“Act innocent.””
I almost laughed.
“Innocent?””
“Yes.””
Her voice rose.
“You embarrassed your sister in front of everyone.””
I closed my eyes.
“My daughter fell from a balcony.””
“She slipped.””
“No.””
The word came out before I could stop it.
“She was pushed.””
Silence.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
Because my mother knew.
She knew exactly what happened.
Then she lowered her voice.
“You’re really going to destroy Sarah’s wedding over a child’s mistake?””
I looked at Mia.
My daughter was drawing flowers.
She had always loved flowers.
Even after what happened, she was still drawing them.
That broke my heart more than anything.
“She broke her wrist.””
My mother sighed.
“You’re exaggerating.””
The room became cold.
“She has a fracture.””
“She’s a child. Children heal.””
I stood up slowly.
“You watched him hit her.””
My mother said nothing.
“You watched Dad hit my daughter.””
“Elena—”
“No.””
My voice shook.
Not because I was weak.
Because I was finally angry.
“You spent my entire life telling me family comes first.””
“Yes.””
“And when your granddaughter needed family, you stood there.””
“She was causing a scene.””
I stared at the phone.
A strange calm came over me.
“Mom.””
“What?””
“I want you to understand something.””
She scoffed.
“What now?””
“I paid for that wedding.””
Silence.
Real silence.
For the first time, my mother had nothing to say.
Then she laughed.
A small, dismissive laugh.
“Don’t be ridiculous.””
“I’m not.””
“You? Pay for a two-million-dollar wedding?””
“Yes.””
Another laugh.
“You’ve lost your mind.””
I looked at the ocean outside the window.
“No. I just stopped hiding.””
“Greg’s family paid.””
“No, they didn’t.””
“Everyone knows they did.””
“Everyone believes they did.””
My mother’s breathing changed.
“You’re lying.””
“I own the island.””
Nothing.
Not even a breath.
I continued.
“I own the resort company. I paid every vendor. Every flower arrangement.
Every private flight. Every dinner reservation.””
My mother’s voice became quieter.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“That’s impossible.””
“It isn’t.””
“You told us you were struggling.””
I looked down.
That sentence was almost funny.
Because I remembered.
I remembered every time I visited my parents’ house and wore simple clothes.
Every time I refused expensive gifts.
Every time I let them believe I was barely making rent.
Not because I was ashamed.
Because I wanted one thing.
I wanted them to love me when I had nothing to offer.
I wanted to know if Elena mattered.
Not Elena’s bank account.
Apparently, I had my answer.
“I never told you because I wanted to see if you cared about me.””
My mother’s voice hardened.
“This is your fault.””
I froze.
“What?””
“If you had told us, we would have treated you differently.””
The words landed harder than I expected.
Not because they surprised me.
Because they confirmed everything.
“You mean you would have respected me if you knew I was rich?””
“That’s not what I said.””
“It’s exactly what you said.””
“Elena, stop being dramatic.””
I looked at Mia.
At her small cast.
At the bruise still visible on her cheek.
“No.””
My voice became steady.
“For the first time in my life, I’m not going to.””
I ended the call.
My hands were shaking.
But I didn’t cry.
I had cried enough years ago.
I just didn’t know it.
An hour later, Victor arrived.
He carried a leather folder and placed it on the dining table.
“I brought printed copies.””
I nodded.
“Thank you.””
He looked toward Mia.
“How is she?””
“Better.””
His expression tightened.
“And your family?””
“Exactly how you’d expect.””
Victor sat down.
“Elena, there is something else you need to know.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
He opened the folder.
“Greg wasn’t only interested in the investment network.””
I frowned.
“What else?””
Victor slid a document across the table.
I read the title.
*Carter Holdings Succession Planning.*
My stomach dropped.
“This is internal.””
“Yes.””
“Who accessed this?””
Victor hesitated.
“Sarah.””
I stared at him.
“My sister?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Six weeks ago.””
I flipped through the pages.
Someone had printed confidential information.
My personal assets.
Company structures.
Future plans.
Everything.
“How did she get this?””
“We’re still investigating.””
I looked up.
“No.””
Victor watched me carefully.
“No?””
“She didn’t get this herself.””
“You think someone helped her?””
“I know someone helped her.””
Because Sarah was many things.
Spoiled.
Self-centered.
Cruel.
But she wasn’t smart enough to break through my company’s security systems.
Someone had guided her.
Someone who understood business.
Someone who understood what I had built.
“Greg.””
Victor nodded.
“That is our suspicion.””
I leaned back.
For years, my family had acted like I was invisible.
Now I understood why.
Invisible people were easier to use.
The realization made me sick.
My phone buzzed.
A video call request.
Sarah.
I stared at her name.
Victor looked at me.
“Do you want me to leave?””
“No.””
I accepted.
Sarah appeared on screen.
She was sitting in the wedding suite.
Still wearing her wedding makeup.
Still wearing the dress.
But the confidence was gone.
Her eyes were red.
“Elena.””
I said nothing.
She looked away.
“You ruined everything.””
There it was.
Not an apology.
Not concern.
An accusation.
“You pushed my daughter.””
Sarah’s face tightened.
“She fell.””
“No.””
“She ran into my dress.””
“She was eight.””
“She ruined the most important day of my life.””
I stared at her.
“You hurt a child because of a dress.””
Sarah looked offended.
“You don’t understand.””
“No. I understand perfectly.””
“You’ve always hated me.””
The words surprised me.
Not because they were true.
Because she believed them.
“You think I hated you?””
“Yes.””
Sarah’s voice cracked.
“Mom and Dad always loved me. You always looked at me like I took something from you.””
I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Then I remembered Mia lying on the rocks.
“I didn’t hate you, Sarah.””
She looked at me.
“I spent my whole life trying to earn the love you got for free.””
Her expression changed.
For a moment, she looked like my little sister again.
The child I used to protect.
Then she whispered:
“So you’re really going to destroy me?””
I looked at her.
“No.””
I paused.
“You did that yourself.””
Her eyes filled with anger.
“You think you’ve won?””
I didn’t answer.
Because I knew something she didn’t.
The wedding wasn’t the only thing being canceled.
The accounts were frozen.
The contracts were terminated.
The truth was coming.
Then Sarah smiled.
A small, confident smile.
And my stomach tightened.
“What?””
She leaned closer to the camera.
“You should ask Victor what happens if the media finds out why you canceled the wedding.””
I frowned.
“What are you talking about?””
Sarah’s smile widened.
“Because Greg already has a story prepared.””
The call ended.
I looked at Victor.
“What story?””
He didn’t answer immediately.
And that scared me more than anything.
Finally, he opened his laptop.
“Elena…”
“What?””
His face was pale.
“They released something ten minutes ago.””
He turned the screen toward me.
A headline filled the page.
And beneath it was a photo of me carrying Mia away from the wedding.
The headline read:
*Billionaire Heiress Abandons Sister’s Wedding After Jealous Rage Causes Family Disaster.*
My blood went cold.
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They weren’t just trying to take my money.
They were trying to destroy my name.
