To make things worse, Madeline suddenly turned everyone’s attention from her first child to . It wasn’t because she wanted to fix things between us, no, she just wanted to embarrass .
"I know so of you already heard about the little ’incident’ I caused back in high school," Madeline said. "But truly... it wasn’t like I wanted to do it."
She frowned and put on this pitiful expression, acting like she had been the one bullied. "I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, and sotis when I’m stressed, I lose control. I know what I did was horrible, but it was also because of my father."
I clenched my teeth, trying very hard not to throw a plate at her face.
However, it was hard—really hard—because Madeline kept using her fake "ntal illness" excuse to convince everyone she wasn’t guilty.
"My sister’s face, Helcia, looks too much like her mother," she continued softly. "Every ti I saw her face, I felt so much pressure and anxiety. That’s why I acted badly toward her without realizing it. But I promise, I can control myself now, and I want to apologize to my sister for everything I did back then."
Back then, my ass.
Madeline treated Helcia terribly right up until the mont she died, and she kept treating her badly even after I took over this body.
All eyes in the room imdiately turned toward , watching in silence as if I was a circus animal about to perform.
Not long after, Madeline walked toward with fake tears and a trembling voice. She stopped in front of and said, "Sister, will you please forgive ?"
She did it on purpose.
She apologized in public because she knew the pressure would make look like a monster if I didn’t forgive her.
I could even hear people whispering:
"We all made mistakes when we were young. Maybe she really changed."
"Yeah, digging up a celebrity’s past from before they were famous is unfair."
"Right? I’m not the sa person I was in high school either."
Bullies like them will say anything—absolutely anything—to avoid admitting they were cruel on purpose.
They will never truly feel sorry. Instead, they call it "troubleso teen behavior," as if the people they hurt weren’t teenagers either. As if the victims didn’t have the sa age, the sa confusion, the sa life.
Even I, soone who grew up with a rough life, never woke up thinking, "Okay! I need to bully soone at school to vent my frustration and miserable life."
People can change, sure. But hurting soone so badly that they break? Ruining soone’s life? That isn’t "teenage rebellion." That’s cruelty.
They don’t get to redeem themselves unless the ones they hurt forgive them, which almost never happens, because those victims carry deep wounds and struggle just to function when they beco adults.
Maybe that’s why bullies grow up to be "successful," while their victims struggle just to live. Bullies think it was just a "mistake." anwhile, their victims spend years trying to glue their heart and mind back together, piece by piece.
I lifted my head and looked straight at her. She smiled at , but it wasn’t the sweet, innocent smile she showed everyone else. No. This one was sly, almost playful, like she was warning : If you don’t forgive , you will pay for it.
She really thought she was untouchable just because she was about to marry Dorian Brixton, the man Victor Brixton trusted to run one of his company branches.
She probably also believed that between Dorian and Lando, my husband wouldn’t dare do anything if I dared to "misbehave."
Honestly? Even I wasn’t fully sure what would happen if we crossed the Brixtons. But Lando once beat up Maxwell before and he’s still here. Sure, he’s in a wheelchair now, but he’s alive, isn’t he?
Still, whatever the risk was, I wasn’t going to sit quietly and let Madeline act like she was above everyone else. She didn’t just want to embarrass . She wanted to sha the real Helcia, the girl who couldn’t speak up and defend herself back then.
Well, since she couldn’t fight for herself, then as her big sister, I will do it for her now.
"No," I said clearly and calmly. "I don’t want to forgive you."
A silence fell over the room.
I could actually hear the shock in the room. So people gasped, and soone accidentally hit their fork against a glass.
People shifted their eyes between and Madeline over and over again, like they were watching a bomb about to explode.
Madeline’s smile slowly disappeared. For a mont, she looked like she didn’t understand the aning of the word no, like her brain simply refused to accept it.
Then I saw her eyes tremble, just a little, before she forced that "poor " face again.
"I... I understand," she whispered, her voice shaking just enough to seem pitiful. "I guess... I deserve—"
"Oh please," I cut her off, keeping my voice calm. "Don’t start crying. It’s embarrassing."
A few people quietly choked on their drinks.
Madeline’s cheek twitched, just a quick, ugly flash of anger, before she looked down again, pretending to be hurt.
"That’s enough," Dorian suddenly said, stepping forward. His voice was calm, the kind powerful n use when they want to intimidate without getting their hands dirty. "Helcia, this is a family event. Let’s not cause trouble. And besides, how could you be so cruel to my fiancée? She’s pregnant now. Do you want to take responsibility if she has a miscarriage?!"
I rested my elbow on the table and tilted my head at him. "Funny. You’re talking like I started this."
His smile stayed the sa, but his eyes sharpened. "She apologized sincerely. Don’t ruin the atmosphere."
He really expected to lower my head.
Of course he did.
Because in their world, victims are supposed to accept an apology just to make everyone else feel comfortable.
I gave him a small, polite smile. "If an apology could erase everything, police stations would be empty."
Soone in the back choked on their wine again. I was really destroying people’s throats today.
"You!" a man suddenly shouted from behind Dorian, and it turned out to be Maxwell. "This is even your first ti eting your husband’s family, and this is how you behave?!"
They didn’t even bother holding back, because they knew no reporters or caras were allowed inside this private room.
"Lando! Can’t you train your wife to be a decent woman?!" Maxwell added.
I felt my eye twitch when he used the word train, as if I were so pet dog instead of his brother’s wife. Do all the n in the Brixton family treat their won like livestock or sothing?
Before I could even reply, Lando spoke first. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a blade.
"Maxwell," he said calmly, "speak to my wife like that again, and I’ll make sure you never speak at all."
The room froze.
Maxwell almost choked on his own saliva because he never expected that the brother he used to bully so badly in school would dare stand up—or well, sit up—for his wife like that.
"W-Why are you defending—" Maxwell began.
"She’s my wife," Lando cut in. "What did you expect to do? Clap while you insult her?"
Maxwell’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists, as if he wanted to remind Lando of what would happen if he continued to "disrespect" his brother like this.
anwhile, Madeline clung to Dorian’s arm, acting fragile, like she might faint at any second.
"Dorian," she whispered dramatically, "let’s just go... this is too much..."
Oh please. She looked like a cheap actress in a low-budget soap opera. No wonder she didn’t have many loyal fans who would defend her, and she always needed her father to back her up just to pass auditions.
But co on, don’t go yet! I haven’t even finished my quest to humiliate her!
I don’t even know what I have to do to truly humiliate her to the point of triggering the system to complete my quest.
"Okay, let’s leave," Dorian said, trying to comfort his fiancée. "Dealing with rude people is bad for your pregnancy."
Then, Madeline suddenly looked up and down. "But it’s not really her fault. She’s like this because I was too harsh on her back then," she added. "She’s just jealous because my life is better than hers. She even uses an imitation necklace to copy ."
What? Imitation necklace?
I lowered my gaze and finally noticed that Madeline was wearing a necklace similar to mine, no, not just similar, but identical.
She was also wearing the Celestia Tear Diamond! But how was that possible?
The designer, Irene Delacroix, never created identical jewelry pieces. According to her, every piece she made had its own character, and she could never recreate the sa thing twice.
So there were only two possibilities in this situation: either the necklace Lando gave was fake, or the one Madeline was wearing was fake.
And I believed Lando would never give sothing that could embarrass in the future.
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