Chapter 7

The morning papers came early, carrying a giant headline across the front page: *Montgomery Debt Relief Revoked: Financial Ruin Looms.*

I sat by the window in Gabriel’s study, holding a heavy cardboard box of old filing folders, staring down at the ink on the newsprint.

The report didn't hold back. It laid out my father’s total failure, explaining how his business was crumbling by the hour without Gabriel’s money to save it.

My mother and father were desperate. They were drowning, and they knew it.

Across the desk, Gabriel didn't even look up from his computer screen. His fingers moved fast over the keyboard, dark eyes focused, completely unbothered by the chaos he had unleashed on my family. He looked like an untouchable king sitting in his high fortress, ignoring the storm down below.

Then, the heavy black telephone on his desk rang.

Gabriel tapped a button on the speaker, his rough voice cool and clipped. "Talk to me, Luke."

"Boss, we have a visitor at the front gate," Luke’s voice came through, sounding flat and alert. "It’s Evelyn Montgomery."

My hands went completely still over the file box. My breath caught in my chest.

Evelyn.

"Send her away," Gabriel said without missing a beat, his hand hovering over the end button.

"She’s making a scene, Boss," Luke replied. "Brought a whole crew of local news photographers behind her car. She’s weeping for the cameras, claiming she just wants to see her dear sister and clear up a terrible misunderstanding with you. If we drag her off, the media will paint it as you attacking a young woman."

Gabriel’s jaw tightened, a sharp crease forming right between his dark brows. "Let her past the gate. But keep the reporters outside."

"Understood, Boss."

The line went dead.

I stood up slowly, my stomach turning into a tight, hard knot. For eighteen years, Evelyn was the golden child. She was the twin everyone loved, the twin who got the soft velvet clothes, the big birthday parties, and all of my parents' affection while I was shoved down into the cold cellar. She had spent her whole life treating me like dirt on her shoe.

"Clara," Gabriel’s sharp voice pulled me out of my head. He was watching me closely. "Go up to your room."

"I want to see her," I said before I could stop myself.

"There is no point in speaking to her," Gabriel warned, his tone going icy. "She is here because your father is desperate. She is here to play a game."

"I won't speak to her," I whispered, holding my ground. "I just want to watch."

He stared at me for a long moment, testing my expression, before letting out a quiet breath. "Go up to the second-floor balcony over the main driveway. Stay out of sight."

I didn't waste a second. I ran up the wide mahogany staircase and walked quietly down the carpeted hall until I reached the tall double doors leading to the stone balcony. I stepped out, crouching low behind the thick stone railing so no one could see me from below.

A sleek red sports car roared up the long driveway, screeching to a halt right beneath the grand portico.

The driver's door swung open, and Evelyn stepped out.

My breath hit my throat like a rock. She didn't look like a girl coming to apologize. She looked like she was heading to a high-end party.

She wore a tight, low-cut silk dress that hugged every curve of her body, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Her long golden hair fell over her bare shoulders in soft curls, and her lips were painted a bright, shiny red.

She smelled so heavily of sweet French perfume I could almost catch it from two stories up.

My father had sent his prized possession to do what she did best: use her beauty to get what she wanted. They were trying to swap us back. They thought if Evelyn could get close enough to Gabriel, she could seduce him, make him forget about me, and sign that debt relief contract after all.

The doors of the mansion creaked open below.

Gabriel rolled out onto the marble portico in his wheelchair, his chief guard Luke standing right behind him like a dark shadow. Gabriel’s face was total ice, utterly unreadable as he looked at the girl standing in front of his car.

Evelyn immediately put on her best show. Her lower lip trembled, and tears welled up in her big, pretty eyes.

"Gabriel!" she cried out softly, her voice sweet as honey as she took a small, hesitant step toward his chair. "Oh, thank goodness you let me in! I’ve been so worried sick about everything that happened!"

Gabriel didn't move an inch. "State your business, Evelyn."

She flinched slightly at his cold tone, but she didn't stop. Instead, she took another step closer, swaying her hips deliberately as she put her hands together over her chest. The tight dress pulled lower, exposing more of her neck.

"My father lied to you, Gabriel, but I had no idea!" she sobbed, leaning down toward his wheelchair so her soft face was just inches from his. "I was sick in bed! I would never, ever disrespect a powerful, handsome man like you by sending my weird, broken sister in my place! Clara is sick in the head, Gabriel. She’s dangerous and dirty. She forced her way down that aisle because she was jealous of my life!"

Watching her from above, my hands gripped the stone railing so hard my knuckles turned ghost white.

A sudden, sharp heat flared deep in my chest—a dark, ugly wave of unexpected jealousy that hit me so hard I couldn't breathe.

It shocked me. I had never been jealous of Evelyn’s clothes, her money, or her soft bed. But watching her lean down toward Gabriel, seeing her sweet-talk him and try to touch his arm with her long red nails, made my blood boil.

Gabriel was my husband now. He was the only person who had ever looked at me like a real human being. He was the man who had held my hands on the cathedral floor, the man who let me sit in his study instead of locking me away.

I hated the thought of her touching him. I hated the idea of her taking him away from me and shoving me back down into the dark cellar.

Below, Evelyn reached out, her fingers brushing the dark fabric of Gabriel’s sleeve.

"Send Clara back to the cellar where she belongs," Evelyn whispered, her voice dropping into a dirty, sweet murmur as she looked down into his storm-gray eyes. "Let me be your real wife, Gabriel. I can give you everything you need... everything a man like you deserves."