Chapter 3

~Camelia POV~

I didn't know how long I had spent crying and hating myself for not seeing my sister's true color until today.

My body felt so weak that I could barely hold myself up from the floor, and the sting in my eyes clearly told me that I had cried out all the tears left in me. But I couldn't bring myself to stand up. I felt like if I did, I might break.

A sharp knock on the door echoed through the living room, but I refused to answer. When it continued, I managed to pry myself up from the floor and walked over to open the door, but the moment I did, two men walked into the house.

They were both dressed in suits. One of them raised a paper up to me. "Miss Camelia Stewart, you've been asked to evacuate this house because it now belongs to another owner."

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I stared at the paper in the man's hand.

"No," I shook my head, my voice sounding low and weak. "This house is a gift my fiancé gave me. There's no way it belongs to another person."

Even though deep within my heart I knew that Peter was behind it, I still didn't want to believe that he would take back a gift he had given me because of what had happened.

"I'm sorry, Miss Stewart. But the person who gifted it to you decided to give it to someone else," the man said, his voice stern. "The house now belongs to your sister, Anya Stewart. If you have any further questions, I think you should discuss it with Mr. Henderson."

I pressed my hand to my chest as if to hold myself together, but it felt like what was left of me was completely broken, and in the next minute I might drop to the ground.

Nothing hurt more than a betrayal from someone you never thought could hurt you.

Someone you could do anything for—and that person was my sister.

"Please... I can't leave now," I stammered with the little strength I had. "I need a few days to figure out where to stay."

The man's face contorted into sympathy, but it vanished almost immediately. "I'm sorry, Miss Stewart, but I'm just following instructions. I was asked to ensure you leave this place in the next..." He looked at his watch briefly. "One hour."

My breath caught in my chest and I staggered backwards. The man rushed forward, holding my hand when I was about to fall to the ground. "Are you okay?" he asked calmly.

"I'm fine," I murmured.

He then let go of my hand and signaled for the men to step forward. "Please show them where your things are so they can move them out."

Before I could even talk to them, the men went up the stairs. Without wasting time, they moved my two suitcases out, and then I was escorted out before they locked the door.

I stood there for a while, thinking of where to go. It's been almost a year since I last talked to my best friend, Becca, and that was because we had a misunderstanding, which was because Anya insulted her and I had to choose between taking my best friend's side or my sister's side.

And of course, I took Anya's side even though I knew she was the one at fault.

The whole idea of going to Becca felt like the most difficult decision I've ever made in my life.

I stood there for a while, thinking, while the few passersby who knew me, who I had probably invited to my wedding, were staring at me like they already knew what had happened.

I picked up my phone, my hand shaky as I dialed Becca's number. I could only hope she picked.

It rang three times. She didn't pick. I tried again, closing my eyes as the sky started to grumble, signaling it would rain soon.

But she didn't pick. I snapped the phone shut and shoved it into my pocket, looking around for where to stay, but then I heard the sound of a car door opening behind me.

I turned, and my eyes widened when I saw Becca standing behind me.

"I know I shouldn't be doing this because I literally hate you," she said with a smile. "But I knew your sister is a witch. You can punch me later for saying that."

I gave her a weak smile. Though I was happy to see her, I could only wonder how she knew this was why I was calling her.

"Becca, I'm so sorry for everything," I said. "I should've—"

Before I could finish my statement, she pulled me into a hug.

"It's not your fault," she muffled into my shoulder. "You did what you thought was right, and I won't judge you for that."

I sniffled when we pulled out of the hug, and she grabbed my suitcase.

She dragged it toward the car and lifted it into the trunk with a soft grunt before shutting it. She turned back to me, brushing her hands together like she was trying to shake off the tension.

"I'm sorry I didn't pick your call," she said as she walked to the driver's side. "I was driving, and I didn't want to break safety rules just because of you. Imagine crashing because of your drama."

A small, weak sound left my lips, something close to a laugh but not quite there.

"Thank you… for coming," I said quietly as I got into the passenger seat.

She didn't answer immediately. She started the car first, her fingers steady on the wheel, then pulled out into the road.

"Don't make it sound like I did something big," she muttered. "I just followed my gut."

I swallowed, staring down at my hands.

"How did you know?" I asked softly. "That this was why I was calling?"

Becca let out a slow breath. "I didn't know exactly," she said. "But I overheard your sister last night."

My head snapped toward her.

"She was outside the club. I was leaving, and she didn't see me. She was on a call," Becca continued, her voice calm but tight. "She was talking about how everything was finally falling into place. About how you wouldn't see it coming."

My chest tightened, my fingers curling into my palm.

"I didn't hear everything," she added. "But it didn't sit right with me. So when you called, I was around the neighborhood. I just… trusted my gut and came to check on you."

She glanced at me briefly. "I just didn't think I'd find you like this."

I turned my face toward the window, but my reflection staring back at me looked like someone I didn't recognize.

"I can't believe she planned all this," I whispered, my voice shaking. "How could she be this heartless."

The word felt heavy, like it didn't belong anymore.

"I defended her," I continued, my breathing uneven. "I chose her over you. I stood there and let her insult you, and I still took her side because I thought she would never hurt me."

My throat tightened painfully.

"And this is what she does?" My lips trembled. "She takes everything from me like I don't matter?"

Tears blurred my vision again, slipping down before I could stop them.

Becca's grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "At least you know now, the kind of person Anya is."