Chapter 5

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄

I descended the staircase of the glass-walled mansion, the soft clatter of cutlery and low murmurs from the dining room nudging me out of my thoughts.

They were all already seated—lined up at the long marble table like royalty at a feast. I didn’t bother offering a greeting. Just headed to the kitchen, reaching for a glass, desperate to stay invisible.

Of course, Veronica wouldn’t let that happen.

“Congrats, little sis,” she sang out, her voice dripping with mockery.

I didn’t even glance at her. Just muttered,

“Hmm,” and kept drinking.

Grandma didn’t waste a second.

“Lily, would it kill you to show some manners? She congratulates you and you respond like a spoiled brat.”

Aunt Jemma jumped on the moment like she’d been waiting for it. “She’s changed, Mom. Ever since college, she’s become... different. God knows what she’s even doing there.”

I turned around slowly, a half-smile on my face as I raised the mug to my lips.

“Correction, Aunt Jemma. It’s medicine. Not ‘God knows what.’ Something that actually requires brains and effort and not everyone has it"

The spoon slipped from Veronica’s hand and clinked against her plate. Her face showed frustration, damn I hit a nerve.

She used to want to be a doctor. Took the same entrance exams. Failed. Then got shipped off to a private college in Russia, only to drop out in a month because it was “too hard" and she failed w years straight in the first sem only, now she was sleepwalking through business school.

Jemma looked like she wanted to respond, but no words came. Just silence.

“Enough, Lily,” Grandma snapped.

"Sit and eat. You’ve lost weight again. What will people say? That we starve our own?”

I pulled out a chair quietly and sat. I wasn’t in the mood to fight. Not today. My head was already too full.

[Ember Winslow, 70] — My grandmother. She never forgave my mom for refusing to play the obedient daughter-in-law. Mom lived on her terms, and this family hated her for it. Eventually, they tore her from us. And now, they’re taking it out on me, this family hates it when woman lives on their terms.

[Jonathan Winslow, 29] — My brother. Raised by our father’s side after the custody battle. He was always the pride of the family, the heir. We were close once. But somewhere along the way, they turned him against me.

[Jemma Winslow, 47] — My aunt. She hated Mom. They went to the same college, but Mom got the respect Jemma never did. She married the Sinclair family's second son. Mom married the eldest. And despite everything, Mom gave birth to the heir—Jonathan. The one thing Jemma couldn’t.

[Edith Winslow, 50] — My uncle. Weak. Easily swayed by his wife and mother.

[Melora Winslow, 25] — Jemma’s daughter.

“your future in-laws are coming to meet you this evening,” Dad said abruptly, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Behave.”

I froze.

My chest tightened. I wanted to speak—wanted to demand answers—but I kept my expression calm.

just 5 months, lily just some freaking five months and it's over.

“You didn’t think to ask us first?” Grandma’s voice was sharp.

“You’re making decisions without even discussing them?”

“Who is he?” she demanded again.

“Rowan Valor,” Dad replied. “CEO of Valor & Co.”

I didn’t miss the way Veronica’s face drained of color. Her reaction was... intense. Why?

anyways who cares

Jonathan said nothing. Not a word. Not even a glance in my direction.

He used to be my safe place. Now he acted like I didn’t exist—like Melora was his real sister, not me.

Still, I had to try.

After breakfast, I went to his room and knocked softly.

“Come in,” he called, not even looking up.

I hesitated in the doorway. “Can we talk?”

“Then talk,” he said flatly, his fingers never stopping.

“Dad arranged my marriage,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.

“mm hm, so?” His tone didn’t change.

“I don’t want this,” I said.

“Please. Talk to him and Help me.”

“What can I do, Lily? You’re not a kid. Tell him yourself.”

“I did.” My voice cracked.

“He’s blackmailing me. Using Mom’s house her belongings as leverage.”

That made him pause. He looked up finally.

“You want those things?”

“Yes,” I said quietly. “But not like this. I just... I need—”

“If you want them, then do what he says,” he cut in. “I’m not getting involved.”

“You’re my brother,” I said, voice trembling

. “You’re supposed to care.”

He stared at me for a beat. “Am I? Since when?”

"now you're asking for help, where were I when you took the decision to leave by yourself not even a single decision of yours had me involved so why now?

My heart sank

"When did you become this person?” I asked, blinking back the sting in my eyes.

“Time changes people,” he replied, turning back to his screen.

“Yeah,” I murmured, breath shaky.

“It does. I don’t know why I came here. I thought maybe… maybe you’d still be him. Guess not."

I turned, voice breaking

"Sometimes I wonder if we’re even related.”

He didn’t flinch. Just said, “You never included me in anything. Not when you picked medicine. Not when you shut yourself off. But now that you’re cornered, I’m supposed to jump in and save you?”

His words cut deep. Sharper than I expected.

I stood there, hollow.

“Forget it,” I said. “You’ve already made your choice. From today, don’t call me your sister. As far as I’m concerned… I don’t exist anymore for you"