"You're a wh*re. Get out. We don't want to see you here again," Katherine hissed, her voice sharp as shattered glass. She shoved Sydney and her younger sister Helena toward the door, her perfectly manicured hand clutching Sydney's arm with surprising strength.
Helena stumbled, catching herself against the doorframe. "Please, we have nowhere else to go—"
Katherine's eyes narrowed. "I said get out. And don't ever come back to this house."
The door slammed behind them with a finality that made Sydney's chest cave in.
…
"Ouch!"
A car sped past, splashing cold, dirty water onto her skirt. Sydney blinked hard as the sting of reality brought her back. She was standing outside her daughter's school, waiting for a cab to head to City Hall for her marriage entry.
Twelve years ago, after her mother died of cancer, everything changed. Her father remarried Katherine, his secretary. A woman with a painted smile and poison in her heart. Katherine came with a daughter, Bonnie, and quickly made it clear that only one girl in the house mattered.
Sydney had been fourteen. Helena was only ten, the same as Bonnie. They should have been sisters, but the lines had been drawn from the start.
After college, Sydney had joined her father's jewellery business, bringing his designs to life with delicate hands and a precise eye. She wanted to make him proud.
Two weeks before her twenty-first birthday, her father asked her to attend an exclusive gala in his place. "Just represent the family, Syd. I will be stuck in meetings," he had said, kissing her forehead.
It was at the Brightcanon Hotel, owned by the infamous Forbes family. Katherine had insisted on choosing Sydney's dress, pretending to care. But unknown to her, she had arranged something far more sinister.
That night, after a single glass of wine, Sydney's world started to spin. Her legs felt heavy. Her head buzzed. She barely remembered a man helping her to a room.
She was aware of soft sheets, of someone's presence. But everything was foggy.
Knock, knock, knock.
She had left the room stumbling and went knocking on another when the man Katherine hired to sleep with her entered the bathroom.
The door creaked open. "Who are you?" Zeke Forbes asked, squinting.
He reeked of whisky and exhaustion. His friend Dan had insisted he crash in one of the hotel rooms rather than show up drunk at the family mansion.
Sydney stumbled forward, her eyes unfocused. "It's me," she mumbled before collapsing against his chest.
Zeke barely registered the weight of her before she crawled into the bed and fell asleep. He followed, too numb to process it all.
The night dissolved into silence.
"I see you have been busy," Dan smirked the next morning, standing in the doorway with a keycard in hand. "Get up. We are late for the investors' meeting."
Zeke groaned, pulling the covers tighter. "Dan…?"
"Yes. Meeting. Now." Dan's eyes drifted to the woman curled up beside him. "Didn't think you had it in you."
Zeke sat up sharply. His eyes widened. "What the hell…? Who is she?"
"You don't know her?"
"No."
Sydney's face was buried in the pillow, her back rising and falling with each breath.
Dan shrugged. "We will deal with it later. You have got five minutes."
Zeke hesitated. Something didn't sit right. He didn't remember anything. Still, something told him to act. He took off his family ring, a gold band with an engraved lion crest, and slipped it onto her finger.
"This stays between us."
Dan raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Your secret is safe."
When Sydney woke up, the room was empty.
She pulled the covers around her, eyes darting, stomach churning. Her head throbbed. Her dress lay crumpled on the floor.
"No, no, no…" she whispered.
Her skin prickled as memories refused to come. She had been drugged. She was sure of it. But by who? Why?
She dressed in silence and left the hotel, trembling.
At home, Helena flung the door open.
"Syd! Where have you been? I called you all night!"
Sydney dropped her bag. "I… I don't remember," she said, her voice breaking. "I think something happened to me, Lena. Something bad."
Helena's eyes filled. "It's Dad."
Sydney froze. "What?"
"He… he is in the hospital. There was an accident. He is in a coma."
The words shattered her.
She couldn't breathe. Her world tilted. Helena kept talking, but the sound was distant. All Sydney could feel was the crushing weight of guilt, confusion, and fear.
Two months later, the ultimate blow: she was pregnant.
The rest fell like dominoes: Katherine's disgust, her uncles' betrayal, and the eviction.
Just like that, they had nothing.
Present Day
Sydney gasped, staring down in disbelief.
"Seriously?" she muttered, brushing at the stains, but the damage was done. Her heart sank. "I can't show up like this. I'll have to go home and change first."
She raised her hand. "Taxi!"
A yellow cab pulled up, tires hissing on the wet asphalt. She slid into the back seat.
"Crest Street, please."
As the cab pulled into traffic, her phone buzzed. The name on the screen made her inhale sharply, Mrs. Grace Forbes.
The elegant older woman had insisted on this arrangement after Sydney helped her one rainy evening outside the hospital.
A simple act of kindness that snowballed into something bigger than she could have imagined. Grace had decided then and there; Sydney would be perfect for her eldest son.
In the months that followed, she had made her intentions clear. Her son, Zeke, was too focused on work. Too closed off. People whispered unkind things about his aloofness, his disinterest in women. Even about his masculinity.
Grace didn't care what they said. She just wanted to see him with someone real. Someone who could anchor him.
Sydney hesitated for a moment, then answered. "Hello, Mrs. Grace."
"Sydney, darling, where are you? We are already at the hall waiting."
"I'm so sorry. There has been a little… issue with my dress. I got splashed on my way out."
"Oh dear. Did it tear?"
"No, not that. It's just… dirty now. I didn't want to arrive looking like a mess."
Grace's voice softened. "I understand. Do what you need. We will wait."
"Thank you. I'll be there shortly."
They hung up.