Family’s Disgrace

Raven

My father had never hit me. Not even when I was a spoiled brat growing up. Not when I’d been in trouble countless times by doing what teenagers did best: breaking the rules.

That was a long time ago. The responsibilities of being the youngest CEO in the state crept up on me, and I grew up fast.

So, imagine my surprise when the sting of his slap registered in my brain. I held my hand to my cheek, my mouth open, my eyes wide in surprise and… hurt.

"You disgrace!" My father's voice, which was usually so loving, was laced with venom. "How dare you show your face here after all the shame you've brought upon this family! Running off like a coward, causing such chaos, making a mockery of everything we've built!"

Tears filled my eyes, blurring his enraged face. Words tumbled out, desperate and choked. "Father, no! It's not what you think! I didn't run away! I was... I was poisoned! Ian, Marco, Selena... they tried to—

My stepmother, Racheal, didn’t let me finish. She stepped forward, her face twisted into one of disgust. "Poisoned? Don't insult our intelligence, Raven! We have your letter, your confession of being overwhelmed and wanting to escape this life. Ian has been strong, taking over everything, picking up the pieces that you scattered!" Her voice was sharp, cutting. "You're a selfish, ungrateful wretch!"

"My letter? What letter?" I whispered, my mind reeling.

Then I remembered the suicide note they’d printed. They had truly gone to such lengths. I ran a hand through my hair and shut my eyes in frustration. “You have to believe me. I didn’t write that letter.”

My father’s nose flared in fury, his eyes turning cold, not holding any of the love I remembered. "Go back to wherever the hell you came from, Raven. Your purpose in this family has expired. You are no longer welcome here."

My world tilted, and my heart sank. My own father...

Racheal threw me a sneer, but I could see the glint in her eyes. Realization sank in. She wanted this. She loved this. Of course she would. Her son would be the one to take over the family company if my father pushed me out.

“Father. No, you can’t do this. You have to believe me,” I said frantically, as convincingly as I could sound, not that it made any difference seeing as they were already retreating into the house. Just how much had they corrupted their minds? Just how many words were being said to them to turn them against me?

Just then, a voice called out, "Father, what's going on?"

That was Ian.

A feeling of cold ran through my blood, my teeth instinctively clenched, my hands folded into a fist.

He walked onto the porch, his eyes instantly landing on me. His face, which was usually so composed, formed into a mask of pure shock, then a flicker of fear. "Raven? You're... you're alive?"

My father and Rachael raised a brow at him. Seeing his mistake, Ian cleared his throat, forcing his face into a somber expression. “You were saying in the letter you were going to kill yourself, so I thought…” He trailed off when my glare intensified.

“I did not write any letter.” My voice was shaking with fury. It took everything in me not to scream at him.

My father cleared his throat. "Ian, go to your study. Raven, you need to leave. Now."

"No, Father," Ian insisted, his eyes still glued to me, flickering with interest. "I want to know how she did it. How did you get back here?"

I knew what he was saying. That was code for he wanted to know how I survived the fall from my office balcony. We were siblings for a reason.

My father who had no clue what Ian was saying sighed, exasperated. "Fine. But then she leaves. I can't stand to look at her."

I tried to keep the hurt that those words brought from showing in my face, but I guess I didn't try harder because Ian gave a pleased smirk. My father and Racheal turned and walked away, leaving me alone with the very person who had orchestrated my downfall.

Not that they knew any of that. Or maybe Racheal did. I wouldn't know.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken hatred. Ian's eyes narrowed, a cold, calculating look replacing the initial shock. "So, you lived. Remarkable. How did you manage it, big sister?" He sounded almost intrigued, a hint of mockery in his tone.

I glared at him, the tears on my face now drying, replaced by a burning volcano of intense rage. "You wanted me dead, didn't you, Ian? All of you. You wanted me out of the way so you could take what was mine." My voice was low, trembling with suppressed fury. "You should have made sure I was dead. Because I'm going to make sure the three of you rot in prison. I'm going to expose you, Ian. Everyone will know what you did."

A smirk, chillingly familiar, spread across his face. "Oh, Raven. You’re still so naive. Do you really think anyone will believe you? The 'mentally unstable runaway' versus the successful, grieving CEO who's stepped up to save the family company? They have the sympathy, the evidence, and the power. And you? You have nothing. Not even Father to help back you up.” His smirk widened. “How does it feel to be the helpless and unloved one?"

My fisted hands tightened even more. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You were gone for too long for that. Six months, Raven. Six months of everyone believing the lie. You think you can just waltz back in and undo it all? You're a joke," he spat.

My breath hitched. As much as I wanted to yell in his face and tell him he was wrong, I knew that deep down, he wasn't. Not the fact that I was a joke, but the fact that no one would believe me.

Even my own father didn't believe me.

"Let me tell you something," he continued, his eyes glinting with malice while I stood there, glaring at him. "You do anything stupid, anything that even hints at revealing the truth, and what happened six months ago will happen to you again. Only this time, I'll make damn sure you don't survive. Understood?"

His words were a punch to the gut, stealing what little air I had left. He was threatening me. My half-brother was threatening to kill me. Right here, in my own home. In the place I thought was safe.

"Now," he said, his voice hard, "obey our parents. And fucking leave this house."

My eyes stung. My throat had a huge lump in it. I was pretty sure I’d drawn blood from my palm with how deep my fingernails dug into my skin.

He watched me, a triumphant sneer on his face, as I stumbled back, my mind reeling. The rejection from my father, the venom from Racheal, and now Ian's chilling threat... I—I was truly alone. Powerless. My heart ached. It hurt more than any physical wound.

I let my gaze drop to the ground.

My revenge. It felt so distant, so impossible. There was no way I could win this fight.

For once since I regained consciousness, I admitted defeat. Things weren’t going to go my way. I had lost everything that I would need to fight back. As I walked out of that house, my shoulders slumped, my spirit crushed.

But there was one thing that kept going through my mind. I wouldn't give up. It was clear that this wasn't a fight I could win on my own.

There was only one way.

My feet moved on their own, carrying me out of my family’s estate.

“I need to make a call, please give me the phone,” I asked the security manning the gate by the time I reached it and took out the card Leo had given me earlier in the car before he left.

The gold designs against the dark background of the card caught the sun's rays as I inputted the imprinted digits on the phone the security gave me without a word.

The phone rang once. Then twice.

Leo picked up, his deep baritone voice sending a tingle through me from the phone speaker.

“Tell Liam I'll do whatever it takes to take my revenge. Come get me.”