Chapter 20

The sharp, deafening sound of the slap echoed off the high vaulted ceilings. Kate's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly blooming with a bright, angry red mark. Her eyes went wide with shock genuine, utter shock as though she couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

"Kate!" my father bellowed in instant horror, lunging forward to catch her hand and check her stinging, reddened face. His hands fluttered uselessly around her, his face with a mask of concern and fury.

The hypocrisy of it made my stomach churn. Yesterday, when Kate had tried to drown me in the deep end of the pool while my parents watched without blinking, nobody cared. Nobody checked if I was breathing. Nobody held my hand or stroked my hair or asked if I was okay. But the second I touched Kate's face just once, just a fraction of what she had done to me the entire family scrambled in terror.

"Don't you dare look at me like that," I snapped coldly, staring down at Kate as her hand flew to her burning cheek. My voice was steady, calm, almost eerily so. Inside, though, my heart was pounding like a war drum. "You spent years making my life miserable. You pushed me into a pool and watched me drown. You turned my own family against me. And now you're going to look at me like I'm the villain?"

Before she could recover her balance, I raised my hand again.

CRACK!

This time, the blow was twice as hard. The sheer force of the impact knocked Kate sideways, sending a fresh wave of shock through the room. Eleanor let out a small, strangled cry, and Arthur moved as if to intervene, but a single, sharp look from Taylor froze him in place. Tears of absolute outrage and pain welled instantly in Kate's eyes, spilling over her lashes as the humiliation finally broke her. Her carefully constructed mask of arrogance crumbled, revealing the scared, spoiled little girl underneath.

"Andrew! Are you just going to stand there and watch me get beaten up and do nothing?!" Kate shrieked hysterically, turning on him with a harsh, tear-streaked voice. Her cheek was bright red now, the imprint of my hand clearly visible, and her eyes were wild with desperation.

Andrew stood frozen, staring blankly down at the floor, looking completely paralysed. His hands hung limply at his sides, and his face was a mask of conflicting emotions shame, guilt, fear, and something else I couldn't quite name. For a moment, I thought he might actually step forward, might actually try to stop me.

He didn't.

I raised my hand a third time, ready to finish what I started. The rage was still there, burning hot and bright, but it was tempered now by something else a strange, almost clinical satisfaction. I wanted her to understand. I wanted her to feel, just for a moment, what it was like to be small and helpless and utterly at someone else's mercy.

But before my fingers could make contact, a heavy, vice-like grip clamped tightly around my wrist.

"That is enough," Andrew said in a low, deadened voice, finally looking up to meet my eyes. His gaze was steady, almost pleading, and there was something in his expression I hadn't seen before something that looked almost like regret.

A surge of pure rage flared in my chest. I wrenched my arm backwards, yanking my hand free from his grip with a fierce shove that made him stumble. "Are you really standing up for her right now?" I demanded, my voice shaking with disbelief. "After everything she's done? After everything you've done?"

Andrew let out a heavy, ragged sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Yeah... I have to," he muttered, glancing sideways at Kate. "She's my wife. I... I can't just watch her get hurt."

The words hit me like a physical blow. His wife. Kate was his wife now. Not me. Not the woman who had stood by him for five years, who had loved him and supported him and believed in him even when he didn't deserve it. Kate. The sister who had spent years trying to destroy me.

I opened my mouth to fire back another word something cutting, something cruel, something that would make him feel even a fraction of the pain he had caused me but before I could speak, the sound of a chair violently scraping backwards shattered the air.

Taylor rose to her feet.

She didn't walk; she stalked across the room like a predator closing in on its prey. Her heels clicked against the marble floor in a slow, deliberate rhythm; each step was a countdown to something terrible. Before Andrew could even register her movement, Taylor brought her foot up and delivered a brutal, merciless kick straight to his chest.

THUD!

"Aghh!" Andrew gasped, the breath completely knocked out of his lungs as he crashed backwards onto the hard marble floor, curling into a tight ball of agony. His watch that stupid, expensive watch clattered against the stone, the silver band scratching against the rough surface.

"If you are so eager to play the hero and defend her, then you can share her punishment," Taylor declared, her voice dripping with absolute venom. She stood over him, her chest heaving slightly, her dark eyes blazing with a fury that made even me take a step back.