Chapter 3 - The Ticking Clock
My parents exchanged a knowing, weary look from the VIP table.
It was a look they had practiced since we were children. It was the silent agreement that Ivy should just surrender, swallow her pride, and disappear so that the golden child could continue to shine. For my entire life, I had mistaken my silent endurance for love. I thought if I just paid the bills, fixed the problems, and stayed in the background, they would eventually respect me.
I was completely wrong.
I slowly bent down toward the floor. Claire’s smug smile widened, fully expecting me to start gathering the broken, sauce-covered porcelain with my bare hands.
But I didn't reach for the plate. I reached for my smartphone, which was resting on the edge of the nearby dining table. The screen illuminated with a single, highly encrypted message from my private attorney, Daniel Mercer.
TITLE RECORDS VERIFIED. LENDER NOTIFIED. EIGHT O'CLOCK AS AGREED.
I read the message, taking a slow, deep breath. The crushing, suffocating humiliation completely evaporated from my body, instantly replaced by a cold, cinematic, and titanium resolve.
I slowly stood back up, slipping the phone into my dress pocket. I looked my sister dead in the eyes.
"I'm not cleaning it," I stated, my voice echoing with a quiet, lethal authority.
My father’s relaxed smile completely vanished. He slammed his hand flat onto the white tablecloth, rattling the silverware.
"Excuse me?" Dad snapped aggressively, standing up from his chair. "If you are going to be disrespectful to your sister on the most important night of her career, then you can leave this estate right now."
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I glanced over at the massive antique grandfather clock against the far wall. The brass hands read 7:55 PM.
👉 My father demanded I walk out the door in shame, but I was about to give him the exact opposite of what he wanted.
