I Nursed Him Back to Sight, He Chose My Sister

"It's gone!"

Fiona's shrill cry shattered the morning quiet, echoing down the grand staircase.

I hurried into the living room. Fiona stood by the marble fireplace, clutching shredded pieces of tracing paper to her chest. Mascara ran down her cheeks in dark, messy streaks.

"My wedding dress designs," she sobbed, burying her face in Neo's shoulder. "And the ring. The custom diamond you gave me yesterday... it's missing from my vanity."

Dad stormed toward me, his face flushed with rage. His hand swung in a wide, vicious arc.

*Smack.*

The force of the slap sent me stumbling backward into the heavy oak coffee table. My cheek burned with a fierce, stinging heat.

"Dad!" I cried out, pressing a hand to my throbbing face.

"Don't call me that," he snarled, pointing a thick finger at my nose. "Hand it over, Eddy. Give your sister her engagement ring back right now."

"I didn't take anything!" I pushed myself upright, ignoring the sharp pain in my hip. "I haven't even been upstairs near her room!"

Martha crossed her arms, her lips curled into a nasty sneer. "You've been jealous of her since you were children. Now that Fiona is marrying into the city's top family, your true colors are finally showing. You tore up her sketches out of pure spite."

"That's a lie," I said, glaring at my stepmother. I turned my attention to the tall man standing by the sofa. "Neo, you know me. We lived together. I would never do something so petty."

Neo stepped in front of Fiona, shielding her fragile frame from my view. His gray eyes held zero warmth.

"I don't know you at all," Neo stated, his voice flat and unforgiving. "But I know what Fiona tells me. You are harassing my fiancée."

"She's framing me!" I yelled, taking a step forward. "Check the hallway security cameras! You'll see I never went near her door!"

Fiona whimpered and shrank further behind Neo's broad back. "She disabled the cameras, Neo. She planned this."

Neo signaled to the two burly bodyguards flanking the front door. "Get her out of my sight."

"You can't do this," I said as heavy hands grabbed my upper arms.

"Cross Fiona again, and you'll pay," Neo warned. His tone carried a lethal chill that froze the blood in my veins. "Watch her pack her things. Then throw her out of this house."

The guards dragged me up the stairs and shoved me into my bedroom. I pulled a canvas suitcase from the closet, my hands shaking violently as I tossed my clothes inside.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Then it buzzed again. And again.

I picked it up. A dozen notifications flashed across the screen in rapid succession.

*Gallery Opening Canceled.*

*Brand Partnership Terminated.*

I answered an incoming call from my mentor.

"Professor Miller?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Eddy, I am deeply disappointed in you," he said, his tone icy. "I have already issued a public statement cutting all professional ties with you."

"What? Why?"

"Don't play dumb. The evidence is everywhere." The line went dead.

I opened a news link he had texted me moments before. The bold headline made my stomach drop into my shoes.

*Rising Artist Eddy White Exposed: Plagiarism, Ghostwriters, and Fake Awards.*

Attached to the anonymous article were photos of my private sketchbooks, manipulated chat logs, and a heavily edited video claiming I paid art students to paint my gallery pieces.

"Only family had access to those drafts," I whispered to the empty room.

Fiona. She hadn't just taken Neo. She was actively destroying my livelihood.

The bedroom door swung open. Dad marched in, holding his tablet like a weapon.

"Have you seen this?" he shouted, shoving the glowing screen in my face. "You are a complete disgrace!"

"It's fake," I said, zipping up my suitcase with a harsh yank. "Fiona leaked my private drafts and twisted the context to ruin me."

"Stop blaming your sister!" He slammed the tablet onto my desk. "You will post a public apology immediately. Admit your misconduct to the press."

I stared at him, my vision blurring with unshed tears. "You want me to ruin my own career? To lie?"

"I want you to quit the art world before you drag our family name through the mud," he demanded. "Do it, Eddy. Apologize and step down. Now."

"No." I grabbed the handle of my luggage. "I won't confess to something I didn't do."

"If you walk out that door, you are no longer a White," Dad threatened.

"I lost my family a long time ago," I replied.

I pushed past him, dragging my suitcase down the hall. No one stopped me. No one said goodbye.

I walked blindly down the sidewalk, the wheels of my luggage rattling against the cracked pavement. The afternoon sun offered no warmth. Yesterday, I had a fiancé, a loving home, and a debut gallery show. Today, I had a battered suitcase and a ruined reputation.

A sleek black luxury car glided to a stop beside me. The tinted window rolled down, but I kept walking, keeping my eyes fixed on the pavement.

A man in a sharp charcoal suit stepped out of the driver's seat and smoothly blocked my path.

"Ms. White," he said, his posture rigid and highly professional.

I tightened my grip on my suitcase handle. "Who are you?"

"I am Mr. Albert's secretary," he replied, handing me a heavy, gold-embossed card.

I glanced at the elegant lettering on the card. Albert. Neo's reclusive half-brother. The phantom who actually controlled their family's massive corporate empire, a man who never showed his face in public due to a heavily guarded illness.

"Why are you talking to me?" I asked, attempting to hand the card back.

The secretary didn't take it. He offered a polite, clipped bow.

"Mr. Albert wants to see you," he said, opening the rear door of the vehicle. "He says only you can help him with one thing."