Sweet Torment Wife You Will NOT Escape Me

Kiara is in her mother's room, dancing to the rhythm of the music while holding a broomstick like a microphone. Every time there's a party at the Watson mansion, she gets excited even if she's pushed aside and forced to attend not as a guest, not as a Watson, but as just another maid for her own family. Despite not enjoying the same privileges as her sister Cloe, Kiara's spirit never dims. She's studious and kind, though with a fierce character when she needs to defend herself from her university classmates. Kiara dresses like a boy, since no one bothers to buy her clothes. She wears the hand-me-downs her best friend leaves behind.

Suddenly, loud and exaggerated applause pulled her out of her thoughts where she imagined herself as a princess, wearing a dazzling and radiant gown. When she opened her brown eyes, flecked with gold, she realized it was her sister.

"Cloe..." she murmured, cheeks flushing.

"What are you thinking about, little sister?" Cloe asked, her tone seriously as she stopped clapping and walked over to turn off the stereo.

"Nothing important, Cloe. What do you need?" she replied, continuing to sweep, returning to her miserable reality.

"Are you upset because you can't come to the big party? Handsome, high-status guys will be there, and you know... it's my chance to marry a billionaire who'll treat me like the queen I am." She grinned widely.

"I don't care, Cloe. Enjoy your party. I'm done here." She walked toward the door, but Cloe grabbed her arm.

"I'll tell Mother you're being disrespectful. You know what happens when I do." Her voice carried a smug superiority, as if she were more than just her sister like her blood meant nothing.

"Go ahead. I'm used to you accusing me of things I didn't do. You know... I hope that billionaire of yours shows up soon and whisks you far away. Maybe then, I'll finally have some peace."

"What the hell did you just say!?" Cloe shook her violently, her anger flaring. "How dare you speak to me like that!?"

"CLOE, KIARA!" Their father's voice thundered through the room, commanding silence. Mr. Maxwell Watson had arrived.

Cloe immediately let go of Kiara, who, upon seeing her father, gave him a slight curtsy.

"Father, welcome home. Is there something you need?" Despite his lack of affection and the fact that he never called her daughter nor acknowledged her as such as he did with Cloe she still loved and respected him. It was almost as if he were ashamed of Kiara's very existence.

"Hello, Daddy dearest," Cloe purred, walking over to hug him tightly and plant kisses on his right cheek.

"Sweetheart, now is not the time," he said, gently pulling her away. "We need to have a serious talk."

"Whatever you say, Father. I'm all ears," she responded sweetly, acting like the perfect daughter.

"My dear..." Mr. Watson began to sweat. "I'm in serious trouble with the real estate firm. The Villarreal family is breathing down my neck."

"The Villarreal's?" Cloe's expression shifted to concern.

"They're shareholders and they want to pull out. If they do, we'll go bankrupt. I don't understand it everything was going fine. I tried to calm them down, but they're furious. I just don't get it," he sighed, while Cloe remembered what she had done and the words of the man who had condemned her.

"What do they want, Dad?" she asked, deeply intrigued.

Not considering it her business, Kiara quietly began to walk toward the door. As always, her father didn't care whether she stayed or left she was a nonentity to him.

"They demand you marry old Mr. Villarreal!"

"WHAT!?" Cloe's eyes went wide.

"Sweetheart, please." He took her hands. "I've never asked you for anything. Marry the man. He's old, probably doesn't have much time left. Marry him and we won't lose the firm. Besides, look at the bright side you'll be a Villarreal!"

"But he's an old man, Dad!" Cloe tore her hands from his grip.

"Cloe, that man chose you, and that's final!" he snapped. "I will not lose everything I've worked for!"

"I'll tell Mom!" she pouted, throwing a tantrum.

"She agrees. After all, I'm the man of this house. Now I'm ready. I want you looking stunning so Mr. Villarreal falls even more in love with you and decides to invest further. Think about it. it's a great opportunity. We'll become a more powerful family."

From the hallway, Kiara listened and couldn't help but smile at the thought of her spoiled sister marrying an old man. Not hearing her father's voice anymore, she bolted to the kitchen so she wouldn't get punished for eavesdropping. When she arrived, her mother was supervising the staff.

"KIARA!" her mother yelled.

"Yes, Mother..." she replied, rushing to her side.

"Stop cleaning and go to your room. You need to shower." That was extremely strange to Kiara.

"You don't want to look bad for tonight's party, do you?" her mother added, smiling wickedly.

"I... I can attend, Mother?" Her brown eyes lit up with hope.

"Of course..." Her mother's malicious smile went unnoticed by the excited girl.

"Thank you, Mom!" The beautiful eighteen-year-old hugged her tightly, making Samantha Watson visibly uncomfortable.

"That's enough..." she said, pushing her away with a fake smile. "Go get ready."

Kiara nodded eagerly and headed to her room, filled with joy and anticipation. She let her long hair down-it reached past her waist, straight and jet black. Her sister often told her it was ugly, so she usually kept it in a braid. After enjoying a long, refreshing shower, she stepped out wrapped in a towel, only to find Cloe sitting at the edge of her bed.

"Oh my God!" Kiara gasped. "You scared me! What are you doing here?" She clutched her towel tightly.

"I brought you one of my dresses," Cloe replied, rising to her feet.

"You? Really?" Kiara looked at her with suspicion.

"Yes... I have so many, I thought I'd lend you one."

"Cloe, I'm surprised... but thank you. I'll make sure to return it clean."

"Of course!" she smiled. "But on one condition-because you don't want to be embarrassed, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"You'll have to cut your hair-just like mine." She flipped her hair, which was cropped just above her shoulders.

"I... I don't think that's right..."

"Kiara, I'm doing you a huge favor." She walked behind her sister, positioning herself ominously. "I'm thinking about what's best for you," she whispered with a devilish grin.

"That's not necessary... I'm not trying to impress anyone. I just want to feel like part of this family. That's all." Kiara froze as she felt her sister grab her hair. "Cloe, don't do it!" she begged, sensing the firm grip.

Her words meant nothing.

With brutal determination, Cloe cut off her hair.

"No, please!" Kiara whimpered, her body trembling with anxiety.