Book 4

Book 4

The black Maybach returned to Emma’s damp, crumbling street, looking like a sleek obsidian predator among the rusted cars and cracked pavement. This time, Emma didn't duck her head or try to slip away through the shadows.

She walked out of the front door with a single bag clutched in her hand, her posture straight and her gaze fixed on the luxury vehicle waiting for her. From the window, she could feel Bella’s eyes burning into her back, fuming with a jealousy that felt like a physical heat.

Her step-sister had been a whirlwind of silent rage since seeing the gold-embossed Voss estate card earlier, and now, seeing the reality of a billionaire’s car idling on their street, the envy was clearly pushing her toward a breaking point.

Before Emma could reach the curb, the front door creaked open and her mother stumbled out onto the porch. She looked miserable, her hair a bird's nest and her clothes stained from another night spent hunched over a card table.

She moved with a desperate, frantic energy, lunging forward to drag Emma back by her arm. Her grip was tight and violent as she pulled Emma toward her. “Come here, young lady! Where do you think you’re heading to?” her mother barked, her eyes darting greedily toward the car as she tried to assess its value.

“What of the fifty dollars I asked you for? I need to pay for my gambling tonight, and you’re not leaving until I get it.” She was entirely carefree about the fact that her daughter was leaving; her only concern was the next hand of cards and the debt she owed to men who didn't take excuses for an answer.

Emma looked at the hand clutching her sleeve, then slowly pulled a few crumpled bills from her pocket.

She didn't feel the sting of rejection anymore; that had been burned out of her years ago. She remembered every birthday where her mother had forgotten her name but remembered to buy Bella a new dress.

She remembered the nights she went hungry because the grocery money had been gambled away on a "sure thing." Her mother had always chosen her step-sister, pouring what little love she had into Bella while leaving Emma to survive on the scraps of their attention. The backstory of her life was written in the bruises of being the second-best child in a house that didn't even want a first.

“Here,” Emma said, shrugging her arm free and shoving the money into her mother’s palm. She looked her mother in the eye, seeing the reflection of a woman who had never truly been a parent.

“Take it. It’s probably the last bit of 'motherly love' you’ll ever get to buy with my hard work. You always said I’d be a burden, but it looks like you’re the one begging for my change.” The words were sharp, a reflection of the years she had spent being ignored and cast aside, and she felt a grim satisfaction as she saw her mother’s face twist in a brief moment of shame before the greed took over again.

Emma turned her back on her childhood home, not even glancing at the window where Bella stood fuming. She stepped into the back of the car, the door closing with a solid, expensive thud that muffled the sound of her mother’s voice shouting about her next debt.

Neighbors peeked through yellowed curtains as the driver stood by the rear door.

She sat in the cool, leather-scented interior and watched through the tinted glass as the house shrank in the distance. They were left wondering how the girl they had treated like trash had suddenly become the queen of a world they couldn't even imagine. Emma didn't look back; she was done being a cover for everyone else's secrets.

She was no longer the naive girl who begged for a crumb of motherly love or a moment of her boyfriend’s undivided attention. She was moving toward a world that didn't just invite her in; it had built a throne for her, even if that throne was constructed out of lies and a billionaire's drunken mistake.