A Six Dollar Jewel, A Priceless Revenge

The moment I stepped out of the church, a message from Julian lit up my phone. It was an order, not a request.

"Brooke's flight lands at O'Hare at 8:30 PM. Get there early to pick her up."

It was the first time he had contacted me since our cold war began. In the past, I would have seized this opportunity to make peace, arranging for a car to pick up his sister, Brooke Thorne, without a word of complaint.

But now, I just stared at the text for two seconds, then started the engine and sped away.

That evening, when I returned to the estate, the first things I saw were shoes scattered in the entryway and a luxurious suitcase. Brooke peeked out of the bathroom, and upon seeing me, she rolled her eyes, making no attempt to hide her disdain.

"Alessia, where the hell have you been?" she snapped. "Do you have any idea how long I waited at the airport? I had to take a cab! By myself! If anything had happened to me, Julian would never forgive you. Now, I'm starving. I want a steak from Gibsons. Order it."

I gave her a level look, then my gaze dropped to her feet. She was wearing a pair of thousand-dollar high heels I had given her as a gift for getting into college, and the rest of her outfit consisted of designer brands charged to my accounts. She wasn't dripping in jewels, but her attire was far more ostentatious than anything I usually wore.

I had always treated her like family, yet I'd never received an ounce of genuine respect in return. If I satisfied her material desires, she would shower me with sweet words. But if I hesitated for even a moment, she would lash out with vicious ones.

And for ten years, I had just… taken it. How?

Under Brooke's watchful eyes, I took out my phone and replied to Julian's message. At the same time, I told her, "I've already told your brother you're hungry and have no money. You can wait and see what he says. He is on a business trip overseas, after all. There's a time difference."

She stared at me, dumbfounded.

I said nothing more. I strode straight into the master bedroom.

...

The next morning, I was awakened by noise from outside. Brooke had turned the kitchen and living room into a complete disaster. The bathroom floor was a slick puddle, an expensive bathrobe discarded in a heap on the wet tiles, leaving nowhere to step.

She showed no remorse when she saw me. In fact, she deliberately spilled a glass of red wine on the carpet in a clear act of provocation.

I watched her in silence. I didn't stop her, nor did I do what I would have in the past—quietly call the housekeeping staff to clean up her mess. I calmly returned to the bedroom and began to pack the few personal belongings I had left here.

The irony was staggering. This entire estate was in my name. So why was I the one tiptoeing around like an intruder?

After packing everything, I strode out, dragging my suitcase behind me.

"Where are you going?" Brooke demanded, blocking my path.

I shouldered past her. "Las Vegas. Business," I said coolly. "And I'm taking my things."

She pursed her lips, crossing her arms and looking at me smugly. "Some people are born queens, I guess, off to survey their little empires. And some are just glorified errand girls, sent on 'business trips' to do the family's dirty work."

"Do you know what that's called? Class. I'm going shopping with my classmates this afternoon. Give me your unlimited black card, or I'll tell Julian you're abusing me!"

She was bluffing, utterly confident that I was powerless against her.

It was laughable. I had paved the way for Julian for ten years. For his sake, I had pandered to his family for ten years. Now that I was done, they somehow saw it as my failure.

I suddenly burst out laughing, pointing at her and raking my eyes over her. "I paid for your mother's medical care. I funded your brother's Ivy League education. I've bankrolled your entire life, from tuition to designer clothes."

"The three of you have been living off the Vescovi family. Even that Chanel jacket you're wearing is one I bought for you last month. So, the next time you open your mouth, remember which hand has been feeding you. And remember that it can just as easily stop."

Brooke's face flushed crimson. She couldn't utter a single word. She just turned, ran back to her room, and slammed the door.

...

After I settled into my new place, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a renewal notice from our family's private hospital regarding Julian's mother, Eleanor.

The hospital director was reminding me that the renewal deadline was in five days and that I needed to fund the account to cover the next phase of her imported targeted therapy drugs.

When I first got together with Julian, my heart went out to him, struggling to build his career at a law firm while also worrying about his seriously ill mother and young sister. So, I took that burden onto my own shoulders.

I thought my sacrifices would earn his loyalty. Too bad I’d backed an ungrateful wolf.

At that thought, any hesitation I had vanished. I dialed the hospital director's number without a second thought and commanded in a tone that brooked no argument, "Stop all her medication."