The Billionaire in oil-stained hands

Prologue

Fafane

“Why?” I whispered, the single word barely leaving my lips.

“Why?” my sister repeated with a cruel laugh. “You want to know why?”

She stood in front of me, lazily twirling a knife between her fingers before dragging over a chair and sitting across from me as though we were old friends sharing tea instead of my nightmare.

“Where do I even begin?” she mused. “You had everything, the perfect life, the perfect fiancé, and everyone adored you.”

“I shared everything I had with you,” I said, my voice cracking. “You were never just my sister; you were my best friend.”

“Oh, please.” She let out a dry, mocking laugh before lifting my chin with the tip of the knife. “So what? Was I supposed to spend my entire life living in your shadow? Grateful for your leftovers?”

“I never saw you as someone beneath me.” Tears blurred my vision. “I loved you. I would have given you anything.”

“And you did.” Her smile widened. “Your life. Your future. Even your fiancé.”

My heart stopped.

Henry stepped out of the shadows, adjusting the cuffs of his expensive suit. The engagement ring he had placed on my finger only weeks ago suddenly felt like a cruel joke. He didn’t even try to deny it. He smiled at her.

“You.” My voice trembled. “Henry, why?”

He slipped an arm around my sister’s waist without an ounce of guilt. Before I could process the betrayal, a sharp kick slammed into my side, knocking me onto the cold floor. I looked up, desperately searching for someone to save me. Instead, I found the two people I had called Mom and Dad standing beside Henry, watching my suffering with smiles on their faces.

“Please,” I begged. “Help me.”

Not one of them moved, nor did they look guilty. I only saw hatred staring back at me.

My sister crouched beside me, her grin growing wider. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She brushed a strand of hair behind my ear as if comforting me. “Those aren’t your parents.”

My breath caught.

“They’re mine,” she laughed.

The room spun.

“Your real parents?” She chuckled. “They’re the richest family in the city. When you were born, my father stole you after your mother ended a business partnership that made him millions. He raised you under another name while I enjoyed watching you live the life that was always supposed to be mine.”

Every word shattered another piece of my soul.

“And now,” she whispered, pressing the knife against my throat, “I’m taking the rest.”

I watched as Henry, my fiancé, pulled my sister into his arms and gave her a sweet kiss, the way he used to with me, while my parents stood behind them and laughed. All the while, I was here on the floor inside a dirty warehouse, bleeding to death, and the people I call family didn't give a damn.

If I have to get a second chance, I'll make them pay