Freya's POV“I am not a thief! I didn't steal it!”I said as I was crying on the floor. I was on my knees, holding an empty royal blue velvety box.“Stop lying, Freya. You stole our family’s heirloom,” my sister, Evica, said with a cruel voice.I was in my house, yet they called me a thief, accusing me of stealing my grandma’s ring, which she had handed to my mother before she died.“No, I didn’t take it. Why would I?” I shook my head, refusing to admit to a lie.I looked up at the couple standing over me with pure disdain. “Mom, Dad… please. Trust me. I have no idea where the ring is.”The words felt thin. The man and woman I called my parents weren't mine by blood. Killian Jones was my father’s stepbrother. He and his wife, Lima, had adopted me when I was ten, right after my parents died.They had moved into our house, taken over my parents' company, and treated me like a maid in my own birthright. I’d watched them pour love into their daughter, Evica, while I was treated like an
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