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74-Sandy

Author: Daisy_bell
last update publish date: 2026-04-04 21:06:04

[ SOFIA’S POV ]

I turned, my hand already hovering over the clutch where my gun lay hidden. Sitting there, legs crossed with an air of cold confidence, was Sandy.

The air in the VIP suite suddenly felt thin. Sandy wasn’t just anyone; she was the daughter of the Morettis’ lead lawyer. She knew where the bodies were buried because her father was the one who made the legal paperwork disappear.

"This must be a trap," I snapped, my eyes darting to the corners of the room, looking for a camera, a wir
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  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    99-Happy birthday to me

    Sofia's POV"Roland," Grandfather called out. His voice wasn't loud, but it had the weight of an iron vault shutting closed.From the shadows near the edge of the stage, a man dressed in a sharp, sterile suit stepped forward. He carried a small, metallic medical case in his hand. Roland. The family’s private physician.Grandfather didn't even look at me as he pointed a single, scarred finger in my direction. "Take her blood for a DNA test."A sharp spike of pure, icy panic pierced right through my newly found confidence. My breath hitched. A DNA test. Right here? In front of everyone?The word DNA echoed in my ears like a death knell. If this was another one of Mum’s desperate gambits, if she had lied about this just to save our skins from the fake heirloom disaster, we were dead. The Damascus family wouldn't just throw us out; they would bury us alive under the marble floor of this very ballroom.My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I quickly snapped my head around,

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    98-The aunt

    [ IRIS POV ]I stared at my father, my mind scrambling to piece it together. The hesitation, the defense of Sofia, the demand for a DNA test—it hadn't been desperation at all. It was a trap. He and Grandfather had known the entire time that the heirloom was fake. They had let her spin her web, let Sofia show her fake birthmark, and let them think they had won, just to utterly crush them at the highest point of their delusion.Beside me, Salvatore let out a soft, low chuckle, completely unbothered. He knew. Of course he knew.I looked back at the stage. Elizabeth was frozen on her knees, her face an ashen, ghostly white. And Sofia? The smug, victorious look on her face had completely shattered into pure, paralyzing terror as she realized she hadn't been manipulating my parents at all, she had been walking straight into their slaughterhouse."Young man, who might you be?" my dad asked, stepping forward. His voice was laced with a sharp, calculated curiosity as he looked past the golden

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    97-The golden heirloom

    [ IRIS POV ]I actually had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.It was just like Salvatore said, this was a hell of a show.Standing wrapped in his arms, watching the absolute, suffocating terror drain the color from Sofia’s face was the most intoxicating thing I had ever experienced. The great, untouchable Sofia Russo, who had spent years tormenting me, was completely frozen under the glittering chandelier lights.A birthmark.My mind flashed back to my own body, to the small, distinct mark etched into my skin that I had looked at every single day of my life, never knowing it was the ultimate key to my identity. Elizabeth hadn't known about it. In all her meticulous planning, all her forged documents, and stolen hospital braces, she had missed the one thing that couldn't be faked by a plastic surgeon or a corrupt doctor. Blood truly recognized blood.Beside me, Salvatore’s chest vibrated with a silent, deeply amused chuckle. He didn't say a word, but the sl

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    96-The birth-mark

    [ IRIS POV ]The entire ballroom went completely rigid. Nobody breathed.Mum stopped struggling against my father’s grip, her tear-stained face turning slowly toward Sofia. My dad's eyes widened in sheer, breathless shock, his military composure completely shattering as he stared at the girl walking toward them."My baby...?" Mom whispered, her voice barely a thread, her hands trembling as she reached out into the empty air.Sofia let out a loud, heartbroken sob, covering her mouth with her hands as she stumbled forward, looking every bit the long-lost daughter returning from the dead. "I'm so sorry... it took so long..." she whimpered, her gaze locking onto mom and my dad with a perfect act of desperate longing.A sick, heavy nausea rose in my throat. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear myself away from Salvatore and shout the truth until my lungs bled. No! That’s not her! I am your daughter! She is a liar!But my voice was completely trapped in my chest, paralyzed by the sheer, ho

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    95-Sofia Damascus

    [ IRIS POV ]The soft murmurs of the elite crowd dwindled to an absolute silence as the elderly man—my grandfather—slowly made his way toward the center stage. He leaned heavily on his ornate walking stick, but his posture remained as rigid and commanding as an old general's.He reached the microphone, adjusting his glasses before looking out at the sea of wealthy guests."I want to thank you all for being here tonight," his deep, weathered voice echoed through the massive ballroom speakers. "To celebrate another year of life is a blessing, and having our closest allies and family in this room makes it all the more meaningful."The entire hall erupted into elegant applause. Everyone clapped, and I found myself clapping along too, my hands trembling as hot tears blurred my vision. I stared at his lined, dignified face, my chest aching with a fierce, overwhelming urge to run across the room and throw my arms around him.Grandfather waited for the applause to die down before raising a ha

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    94-Daughter of Damascus

    [ IRIS’S POV ]The leather seat of the car felt like ice beneath me as we drove through the streets of Paris.My chest was so tight I could barely draw breath. The closer we got to the venue, the more the panic clawed its way back to the surface. My fingers were moving entirely on their own, relentlessly fidgeting, my nails scratching digging deeply into the skin of my hands until the flesh was raw and irritated.What if they hated me? What if my mother couldn't even recognize me through her broken mind? What if I was nothing but a ghost to them?"I would stop doing that if I were you, Iris. Or we turn back right here and now."Salvatore’s deep, commanding voice sliced through the suffocating fog in my head. I froze, my nails still pinned against my skin, and looked over at him. His dark eyes were fixed on the road ahead, his profile rigid and unyielding, but the authority in his tone was a promise. He wasn't playing.He would turn the car around in a heartbeat if he thought this was

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    36-I need your blood

    [ IRIS’S POV ]I didn’t sleep.My body stayed folded into itself in the corner of the room, knees locked to my chest, arms wrapped tight like they were the only thing holding me together. The floor was cold. It bled through my clothes, numbing my thighs, my back, my fingers—but I didn’t move. Movin

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-03-26

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    28-The gallery’s of ghost

    [ IRIS’S POV ]I stood outside the sunroom—the room Salvatore had turned into his fortress. He had told me never to enter without him. He had told me the door was coded.But I spent years watching the world from the shadows, and I knew how to look for things people didn’t want found. I had watched

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-03-24

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    29-You hit me?

    [ IRIS’ POV ]I left my room quietly.The door closed behind me with a soft click, but my heart was loud in my chest. The hallway stretched ahead. The walls, decorated with portraits of dead men and living monsters. The more I looked at it, the more I saw myself as the living dead and Salvatore as t

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-03-24

  • BOUND TO THE WRONG SISTER    23-The florist

    [ IRIS’S POV ]The morning arrived quickly.The breakfast room looked the same, sunlight spilling across polished marble, silverware aligned with obsessive care, but everything else felt off. Like the house itself was holding its breath.Sofia sat across from me. Glowing.She wore a cream silk dress

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-03-22
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