Sister Scandal Novels & Stories

He was going to make him pay so much! A figure hid in the shadows of the mansion, a satisfied smirk on her face. Thomas had told her he'll be doing the deed tonight and she had come to witness it firsthand. Her plan was to take what happened tonight and publicize it with the newspaper, proving Serena was a slut, sleeping with her husband's brother. What she hadn't counted on was to see Gerald run back home and have all this revealed to her. The brothers were no different from each other.

The woman was clearly shocked and pushed Alard's head away. "Don't cross the line! I don't know who you are or what you want to do here!" Faye insisted. "What can you do miss? Report to reception?" he asked. Faye shook her head slowly. There was no way he could put himself in danger on the brink. Reporting to the receptionist is tantamount to making rumors spread widely. Faye will be accused of having a scandal with a foreign man in a hotel room. Doesn't that degrade her image as a top model?

"Did he hurt you?" She had called Julia last minute, cause she was the only one that was in the neutral in all this mess. She wouldn't want to go home or to Doris so she went to Julia. Evy forced herself to smile but the smile was strained. "No, he didn't. Well, not the way you think he did," she replied. "I just find out that he was the one responsible for leaking the dating scandal between his father and my sister eight years ago." Julia looked even more stunned than she had been. "He did?!"

Gilbert felt that he had gained experience outside these years, but he had never seen such a shameless person. "When you made a move on my brother-in-law, why didn't you think that my sister and you are family? Why didn't you think about how your actions would hurt and sadden my sister? Now that the scandal you committed has been exposed, put on the internet, and judged by the public, you're hoisted by your own petard, and that's also my sister's fault?" "Ellis, why don't you say that you being born into this world is a mistake?"

The headline blared across the news site: MARGO WILSON ARRESTED IN ILLEGAL SURROGACY SCANDAL Below it, a photo of my mother being led from her house in handcuffs, her face a mask of rage and humiliation. "Oh God," I breathed. But it wasn't the arrest that made my blood run cold. It was the subheading beneath: Daughter Grace Sinclair, wife of billionaire Hunter Sinclair, was an unknowing victim of medical fraud. Hunter's hand found mine, gripping tight. "This isn't a surprise. I'm just glad they see you for what you are, the victim in all this."

I was shocked for a second, did Chelley really just say that? "Why are you lying Cierra? I am not your sister." The gasps that followed were like knife stabbed into me, "Not this wench lying about an affiliation with Mrs. Chelley Moretti, the COO of Moretti Empire!" someone jeered. "The nerve of her!" "This wannabe isn't just a thief; she’s a family connection fraud!" The ripples of mockery came back tenfold, and I felt like I was dying. "No... she is my sister! We lived in the same home, how else could she have known my name?" I started babbling, trying to convince them desperately like a crazy woman.

This was my first real step in cutting ties with Victor Ravencroft, my husband of three years, the man who destroyed everything I cared about along with my sister’s betrayal. But there’s no secret that could be hidden. Just days later, the media caught wind of the scandal before the ink on the papers dried. My name, once whispered with disdain in social circles, was now dragged across social media even more. Headlines shouted betrayal and scandal, twisting truths into digestible lies. My sister Naomi’s pregnancy with my husband’s child was everywhere, turning our private pain into the city’s favorite afternoon gossip.

I squealed, tossed, and danced around my bed. “Hey, do I need to remind you that you are his PRETEND WIFE and not his actual wife?” My Angel conscience grunted at me. She looked so small and white and angry. She looked disappointed. She is right. I am just his pretend wife. He is married to my sister. How could I have cheered?

The victory barely lasted three days. I’d just begun to breathe again—just started to believe maybe the world was shifting in our favor—when the headlines hit like knives. “Maya Ramirez: Harrington’s Protected Pet?” “Anonymous Sources Claim Maya Uses Adrian Harrington’s Name for Privilege.” “School Scandal: Did Ramirez Sister Cheat Her Way In?” My phone buzzed nonstop, each alert another strike to my chest. Every article twisted the truth a little more, turning my sister—my brilliant, hardworking, stubborn little sister—into a villain they could throw stones at.

“Syquia Family Tragedy: Socialite Sister Dies in Apparent Suicide.” Maria’s breath hitched. A sister. She clicked on the link, her fingers trembling. The article was sensationalized, filled with thinly veiled accusations and speculation. Julian Syquia’s younger sister, Cassandra, had apparently fallen from the balcony of their family’s Batangas estate—the very estate he was offering her a job at. The police had ruled it a suicide, but the article hinted at a dark secret, a troubled relationship with her family, and a cloud of mystery surrounding her death. There was also a brief mention of Julian’s parents, both prominent figures in society, who had apparently retreated from public life afte