Chapter 3: The Parasites

POV: Alessia Rowan

"I cannot believe you did this to me, Alessia! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was?"

Nessa didn't even wait for the waiter to leave our table before she started yelling. She sat across from me in the plush velvet booth of the high-end cafe, her expensive sunglasses resting on top of her styled hair. She slammed her designer handbag onto the polished marble table, making the fine china coffee cups rattle.

Beside her, Taryn Bell sat quietly, taking a delicate sip from her iced latte. She played the part of the gentle, concerned best friend perfectly, looking at me with big, sympathetic eyes that hid venom underneath.

"Nessa, calm down a little," Taryn said softly, placing a hand on Nessa’s forearm. "I'm sure Alessia had a reason. There must have been some kind of technical glitch at the bank this morning."

"Glitch?" Nessa turned her glare onto me, her eyes wide with fury. "It wasn't a glitch! I was standing at the checkout counter of the boutique in the Central Business District with three custom dresses! Three! When the cashier swiped my card, it came back declined! Not just once, Taryn—three times! The cashier looked at me like I was some broke beggar trying to steal clothes!"

I sat back in my chair, holding my warm teacup between both hands. I watched the two of them with total calm.

In my past life, whenever Nessa raised her voice or looked at me with those tearful, angry eyes, my heart would ache. I used to think of her as my baby sister, the little girl our mother told me to protect before she died. When she complained about being embarrassed, I would have immediately pulled out my purse, handed her my black card, and apologized for not checking the accounts sooner.

Now, looking at her flushed face, I didn't feel a drop of pity. I only saw the person who smiled while throwing me to the infected monsters ninety days from now.

"Did you hear me, Alessia?" Nessa demanded, tapping her long, painted nails hard against the marble surface. "I had to leave the store without my bags! The manager stood by the door and watched me walk out! I have never been so humiliated in my entire life! Why was my secondary line deactivated?"

"Because it isn't your card, Nessa," I said softly, taking a slow sip of my tea. "It's mine."

Nessa blinked, taken aback by the flat, cold tone in my voice. She looked at Taryn for a second before looking back at me, her expression turning into a mix of confusion and anger.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Nessa asked, her voice rising again. "Gideon told me last night that the account was set up for my business expenses! He said you both agreed to back my boutique until my quarterly returns came in!"

"Gideon lied to you," I said plainly. "Or rather, you and Gideon lied to yourselves. I never authorized a fifteen-thousand-dollar credit line for your boutique. And I certainly didn't authorize you to swipe my money for luxury dresses at seven in the morning."

Taryn set her glass down with a quiet clink. She leaned forward, putting on her softest, most comforting smile.

"Alessia, sweetie, let's take a deep breath," Taryn said smoothly, touching my wrist with her fingers. "We all know how stressed you've been lately. Ever since your mother passed, you've been carrying so much weight on your shoulders. But Nessa is your sister, your only living blood relative. Family is supposed to support each other through hard times."

I slowly pulled my hand away from Taryn’s touch.

"Family doesn't steal, Taryn," I said, keeping my eyes locked onto hers.

Taryn's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered, looking hurt. "Steal? Oh, Alessia, that's such a harsh word. Nessa isn't stealing anything. She's building her future. And Gideon has been working so hard to manage your family funds so you don't have to stress yourself out."

"Is that what he told you when you met him at the registry office last Tuesday?" I asked.

The color drained from Taryn’s face so fast it was almost comical. Her soft, comforting expression shattered instantly.

"What... what are you talking about?" Taryn stammered, her fingers twitching against her napkin.

"Last Tuesday at two in the afternoon," I said, leaning over the table slightly. "While I was at home clearing out my mother's old estate papers, you met Gideon at the central city registry office. You brought him three off-the-books property deeds belonging to my family estate."

Nessa turned her head sharply to look at Taryn, her brows pulling together in genuine confusion. "Wait... Taryn? What property deeds? What is she talking about?"

"She's confused, Nessa!" Taryn said quickly, her voice sounding higher and much sharper than before. "Alessia, you're making things up! I was at my interior design studio all afternoon last Tuesday! You can ask my assistant!"

"Your assistant who is paid through Gideon's private consulting firm?" I asked.

I reached down into my tote bag resting beside my chair and pulled out a thick, white folder. I placed it squarely on the center of the marble table, right between their coffee cups.

"What is this?" Nessa snapped, though her eyes darted nervously toward the folder.

"That is an itemized ledger," I said, opening the cover. "Over the last four years, Nessa, you have 'borrowed' a total of three hundred and twenty thousand dollars from my personal trust. That includes your apartment rent in the central district, your luxury car lease, your personal trips, and your boutique's inventory."

Nessa gasped, her face flushing bright red. "I am your sister! You can't list my living expenses like I'm some client in an office!"

"Page three lists Taryn’s records," I continued, ignoring her outburst completely. "Over the last eighteen months, Taryn, you received sixty-five thousand dollars in 'design consultation fees' directly from Gideon's joint line—money that originated from my mother's bank account. In exchange, you signed off on valuation reports that lowered the market price of my family's commercial properties so Gideon could transfer the titles."

Taryn stood up from the booth so fast her knee bumped the bottom of the table, spilling a few drops of coffee onto the white cloth.

"This is insane!" Taryn hissed, her polite mask completely slipping away to reveal the cold, calculating woman underneath. "You are making wild accusations, Alessia! I have been your best friend for five years! I stayed by your side when your mother was in the hospital! How dare you question my loyalty over some numbers?"

"Loyalty?" I let out a soft, dry laugh that made both of them flinch. "You sold my family property deeds to my husband behind my back, and you call that loyalty?"

"Alessia, stop it!" Nessa yelled, standing up beside Taryn. People at nearby tables began turning their heads, whispering and staring at our booth. "You are making a complete scene! Shut that folder right now and unlock my credit card! I need to go back to the boutique and clear those charges before the manager calls my business partners!"

"You aren't going back to the boutique, Nessa," I said, closing the folder with a firm, quiet clap. "And you aren't getting another cent from my estate. As of six o'clock this morning, Gideon's power of attorney was permanently revoked. All secondary cards linked to my trust—including yours and Taryn's expense accounts—have been permanently destroyed."

"You... you revoked Gideon's power of attorney?" Nessa whispered, her voice shaking with sudden, real horror. "You can't do that! He's your husband!"

"He was my husband," I corrected her. "He is currently packing his clothes to leave my house before security throws him out for trespassing."

Nessa's eyes widened in sheer panic. She reached for her phone frantically, her fingers tapping the screen to dial Gideon's number.

"He isn't going to answer," I told her, rising gracefully from my seat. "He's a little busy trying to figure out how to explain four hundred thousand dollars in missing funds to the state fraud board."

"State fraud board?!" Taryn gasped, stepping around the table to grab my arm. Her fingers dug tight into my sleeve, her soft voice completely gone, replaced by a desperate, aggressive edge. "Alessia, are you out of your mind?! You can't involve the state board! If they look into those property valuation reports, my design license will be revoked!"

"Then you shouldn't have forged them," I said, pulling my arm out of her grip with effortless disgust.

"Alessia, please!" Nessa cried out, stepping in front of me to block my path out of the cafe. Tears were actually streaming down her cheeks now, ruinous black mascara trails marking her face. "You can't leave us like this! We are family! If you cut off my boutique account, I will lose everything! My landlord will kick me out of my apartment by next week!"

I looked down at my younger sister.

Ninety days from now, when the world collapses, money won't mean anything. Cars, boutique dresses, design licenses, and bank accounts will all be worthless dust. But right now, in this clean, bright cafe in the middle of the city, losing those things was the worst pain they could possibly imagine.

"You won't just lose your apartment, Nessa," I whispered, leaning in close so only she could hear my voice. "You're going to lose everything you ever took from me. Every single thing."

Nessa shuddered, taking a step back as if I had struck her across the face. She stared at me with pure terror, realizing for the first time that the soft, easily manipulated sister she relied on was completely gone.

I turned my back on them and began walking toward the exit of the cafe.

"Wait!" the waiter called out, rushing over from the counter with a long paper receipt in his hand. "Excuse me, ma'am! The bill for the table!"

I paused near the door, turning my head slightly.

"The table belongs to those two ladies," I said, pointing a finger back toward Nessa and Taryn, who were standing frozen near the booth. "They ordered the smoked salmon brunch, the imported coffee, and the vintage champagne. The total is eight hundred and forty dollars."

"Eight hundred dollars?!" Nessa shrieked from across the room. "Alessia, we don't have that kind of cash on us! My card is declined!"

"Then I suggest you ask Taryn to pay," I said smoothly, opening the glass door of the cafe. "Or perhaps you can offer the manager your designer handbag."

I stepped out into the crisp morning air, hearing the sound of Nessa screaming my name behind me, followed immediately by the waiter demanding payment.

I took a deep, clean breath. Two parasites down. Eighty-nine days left.

I walked down the granite steps toward the curb where my black SUV was parked. I pulled out my car keys, pressing the unlock button.

Before I could reach the driver's side door, a hand reached out from behind me and grabbed my shoulder tightly, pulling me around.

I turned fast, ready to strike, but stopped when I saw Taryn standing right behind me on the sidewalk. She had run out of the cafe, her breath coming in fast, shallow gasps, her face pale as a sheet.

"Alessia, wait!" Taryn hissed, her grip on my shoulder so tight her nails bit through my jacket. She looked around nervously, checking the street as if she were terrified someone was watching us.

"Let go of me, Taryn," I said, my voice dropping dangerously low. "Before I break your fingers."

Taryn loosened her grip slightly, but she didn't step back. She leaned in close, her eyes wide with a strange, dark panic that went far beyond losing a design license or a bank account.

"You think this is just about money?" Taryn whispered, her voice trembling violently against the noise of the morning traffic. "You think Gideon was just stealing from your trust fund to buy clothes and cars?"

I frowned, my eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

Taryn swallowed hard, her chest heaving as she leaned even closer, her eyes locked onto mine with terrifying intensity.

"Gideon won't let you leave with that money, Alessia," Taryn whispered, her words sending a sudden, icy shock straight down my spine. "He already made promises to higher people. People you can't even imagine. If you freeze those accounts today, you aren't just ruining his life... you're signed up to die before the month is over