Chapter 2

Oris

A bet?

 My blood turned to ice at those words when a man's voice—one I recognised as Mark, Hayden's teammate—spoke.

“If you think about it, bet or not, he's still the biggest winner among us all.” He laughed, “Just think about it. He came along, snagged his stepsister and at the same time, secured his place as the heir to take over her father's corporation. Two birds, one stone. Fucking genius.”

 No. This couldn't be true. I REFUSED to believe it.

 They had to be making things up. 

“Honestly, it's tiring to deal with all her…moodiness.” Perry said, her quiet words slamming through me. “She always acts like she's this tortured soul. Doesn't go out, doesn't like crowds and clings too much. It's annoying.”

“It's okay Perry dear.” A girl sighed mockingly, “Sooner or later you won't have to deal with her proud ass anymore.”

“I've forgotten, what did he call her again? proud but useless. That is what he called her, right?”

“Nah man, it was ‘arrogant bitch’.”

“We can hear it for ourselves.” a girl's voice chimed in. “I still have the recording of when he made the bet.”

“Oh my god, play it," people chimed in. After a moment of restlessness, a voice filled the room. 

‘If I can get Oris Henderson to date me, you all owe me two hundred bucks each,’ Hayden's voice drawled amidst laughter, sending ice through my veins. ‘I'm so sick of her. Dumb and arrogant for no reason, thinking she is better than everyone because her daddy is rich. What right does she have to look down on me? To look down on everyone? Watch me.’

It was unmistakably his voice. 

"Oh my god," someone howled. "Dumb and arrogant. He did not."

"Yes he fucking did.” Mark said. “I still remember the look on his face during sophomore year. Right after she poured that drink on him. And tada. He started being nice and she folded in what? Two months?"

The words dropped into my stomach like ice. 

Sophomore year. The period where he started to no longer be hostile towards me and approach me. It all lined up.

Any ounce of denial  fell apart. Laughter spread through the room, all while my world was crashing down.

A bet. It was all a bet. 

Pain ripped through my entire body. My knees buckled.  My hand flew to my mouth to keep from making a sound, from screaming right there in that hallway. 

Without hesitation, I turned away and left.

…

The air was cold when I stepped outside, but I couldn't care less.

I couldn't remember walking out of the party or the house. All I could hear was the crunch of my sneakers against the pavement, the cool night air stinging my cheeks.

And HIS voice. Those words, replaying over and over again.

My face felt cold. Too cold. I wiped at my cheeks, to try to get rid of the coolness the wind brought only to realise that they were TEARS.  

I left the party and walked all the way back to my silent home.

The house was dark when I arrived. It was late already, no one was waiting up. I didn't stop walking until I entered my room and shut the door behind me. 

My graduation gown was still hanging where I'd left it that morning, pressed and perfect. My cap was on my desk. It all looked like it belonged to a different girl.

‘I'm so sick of her. Dumb and arrogant for no reason,’

The nausea roiled again, harder than the last time. I rushed to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before throwing up. After what felt like an eternity, I found myself sobbing again.

 Was it the pregnancy or the revulsion, I didn't know.

Forcing myself up, I returned and curled up on the bed. Sobs wracked me, ugly, and gasping until it was all I could feel.

Memories flit through my mind. The nights he'd comforted me after I'd had a fight with my father. The night he'd sat with me and told me I was brilliant. The night he kissed me for the first time. In the mornings when he snuck into my room before anyone else woke up. The way he looked at me when I talked about wanting to run the foundation arm of Panama Holdings one day.

 All fake. Every moment I treasured as a sign of his love had been a performance to win a bet.

And now I was pregnant.

I was freshly graduated from college, heartbroken, and I was going to have HIS child. My hand went to my stomach without thinking. 

What was I supposed to do with a baby when its father thought I was a joke?

The once warm thought cut through, more terrifying than the night air. There was only one solution. 

“Dad.” I whispered.

Would he even believe me? What would he even say? In his eyes, Hayden could do no wrong. 

I'd always begged for his attention in the past to no avail. I'd studied until my eyes burned, doing everything to make him look at me yet he always looked towards Hayden.

This time would be different, I thought firmly. It had to be. I was still his daughter and this had nothing to do with petty rivalry. 

 For once, he had to choose me.

Determination filled me. I wiped my eyes and left my room. My socks were silent on the hardwood hallway as I sneaked toward my father's study. As it usually was, the door was closed, but light spilled out from underneath it meaning he was around.

Hope rose in my chest. I could speak to him alone. I raised my hand to knock—

"He's ready, Layla."

I froze, hand hovering inches from the wood at the sound of his voice.

“Honestly, I don't think there's a reason to wait.” My father's voice continued, “Hayden is ready.  I have been watching him these last two years. He has the temperament and strategy. I was aiming to take a step back next year anyway. It makes sense to start transitioning Panama Holdings to him now."

My heart cracked.

The empire my father had set out, the one I'd fought for, believing that that I would one day earn, he was giving to Hayden. 

‘Two birds, one stone.’ Mark's mocking voice echoed.

"What about Oris? Cilian, look at me.” Layla, my stepmother said, “You know how hard she's been working. I know she started out badly at first, but —"

A sharp, annoyed exhale cut through the room. I held my breath, pressing closer.

"She is spoiled, Layla." he said, and it was like a slap to the face. " I love my daughter, but we both admit that she is…volatile. She is better off not dealing with it."

His disparagement, clear and cold, cut through me bitterly.

Volatile. A word I'd been used to hearing, but not like this. 

A sigh rang through the door, heavy and wistful.

"Sometimes," he said, "Sometimes I wish Hayden were my real son. He would have made me so proud."

…

This time, when I stepped into my room, I had no strength left. 

My legs gave out and I slid down to the floor. The pain was deeper now, borne from a wound I'd carried since my mother died.

He didn't just prefer Hayden. He wished Hayden was his. He wished I was not his daughter at all, but that Hayden was.

In his eyes, I was not as much a daughter to him as I was a nuisance, just like he said. A spoiled distraction.

Did he not see how I'd changed?

I had stopped being the loud, wild girl who acted out of grief. I had become careful. I had become studious. I had tried SO hard.

But he didn't see any of it. To him, I remained the same spoiled little girl?

Looking around, I felt empty.

Nothing I had was mine. Even my family. Even this house, even my last name. I was an outcast in this town from the beginning. 

The rich spoiled heiress. That was all they saw.

 I thought having Hayden was enough. At least, someone truly chose me. I would finally belong somewhere. I thought his love was proof that I was worth loving.

But even that was a lie.

The realization washed over me, colder than any crying, more final than any heartbreak. 

 In this, he would likely be on Hayden's side, just like he always was. If I told him what Hayden had done, if I told him what I learned, he would assume I was lying or even worse, he would find a way to make it my fault. 

He could accuse me. He could say I was trying to ruin Hayden's future. He would protect Hayden. 

I would be a pariah in my own house and Hayden could live happily, knowing he had broken me completely and gotten away with it.

I couldn’t stay. Not in this town. 

I had to leave. For good this time. I would move on and make my way on my own, raising the child alone.

I placed my hand on my still flat belly. 

"I'll take care of you," I whispered, voice cracking, "Even if no one else wants us."

I moved quickly after that, packing all my clothes, the physical cash I had and everything personal I needed. The rest could be left behind.

When I stepped out in the dead of the night, it was silent and smooth. Nobody was here to stop me. Up ahead I could still hear the faint thump of the party in the distance, still going, full of the people that humiliated me. 

My father's mansion remained behind me, dark and silent. I was left in the middle, my presence unnoticed.

This was Ashwood, and here, nothing I did would matter.

Taking a deep breath, I began walking forward towards the unknown.

Nobody would miss me anyways.