Chapter 2 - The Family That Wanted Me Gone
Callan closed the kitchen door behind him.
The sound made my stomach tighten.
For the first time since we married, I looked at my husband and felt afraid.
Not because he was stronger.
Not because he had power.
But because I finally saw the truth.
The person standing in front of me was not the man I fell in love with.
“What are you doing?”
His voice was low.
I looked at him.
“Cleaning.”
He stared at me.
“You’re acting strange.”
I almost laughed.
Strange?
After everything that happened?
After he slapped me?
After he watched his family destroy me?
He thought I was the strange one.
“I’m just tired.”
Callan stepped closer.
“You need to apologize to Brooklyn.”
I looked at him.
“You’re still asking me that?”
“Yes.”
“After you saw what happened?”
His face hardened.
“You’re not going to start this again.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Start what?”
“The truth?”
He looked away.
That small movement told me everything.
He knew.
Deep down, he knew Brooklyn was lying.
But admitting it would mean accepting that he had betrayed me.
And some people would rather protect a lie than face the damage they caused.
“You embarrassed my family.”
He repeated.
I whispered,
“No.”
“You embarrassed me.”
The words shocked even him.
Because they were true.
He was not angry because his sister was hurt.
He was angry because his image was damaged.
The perfect Harrington family.
The perfect son.
The perfect husband.
And I was the problem that threatened all of it.
“I married you because I thought you were different.”
I looked at him.
“But today you proved you’re exactly like them.”
His expression changed.
For a second, anger flashed across his face.
Then guilt.
Then something colder.
“You should be careful, Anastasia.”
“Careful with what?”
“With how you speak to me.”
I stared at him.
The warning was clear.
This was no longer a conversation.
It was a threat.
That night, I was forced to stay in the guest room.
Melissa told everyone I needed time to “reflect on my behavior.”
I almost smiled.
Reflect.
That was their favorite word.
A word they used whenever they wanted someone else to accept blame.
I sat alone on the edge of the bed.
My wedding ring felt heavier than ever.
Three days ago, I had looked at this ring and believed I was the luckiest woman alive.
Now I wondered if I had married into a nightmare.
Around midnight, my phone buzzed.
A message from my best friend Emma.
“How was the family lunch?”
I stared at the screen.
I wanted to tell her everything.
I wanted to call.
But something stopped me.
Because I realized something important.
If I told people without proof…
The Harringtons would destroy my story.
They had money.
Connections.
A reputation.
I had only the truth.
And sometimes the truth needed evidence.
I looked toward the kitchen camera footage in my mind.
The camera was my only chance.
The next morning, I woke up before everyone else.
I quietly walked downstairs.
The house was silent.
I entered the kitchen.
Then I found the security system.
A small monitor hidden inside the cabinet.
My hands trembled as I turned it on.
The screen loaded.
Different camera angles appeared.
The living room.
The hallway.
The dining room.
The kitchen.
Then I pressed the recording from yesterday.
The video began.
My heart raced.
I watched Brooklyn walk toward me.
I watched her look around.
I watched her intentionally step into my path.
I watched the bowl fall.
I watched her pretend to be shocked.
I watched everything.
Then came the moment that made my blood run cold.
The moment after Callan slapped me.
The camera zoomed slightly.
And there it was.
Brooklyn smiling.
Not crying.
Not hurt.
Smiling.
I covered my mouth.
Because seeing it was different.
Hearing someone lie was painful.
Watching them lie was something else.
Then the video continued.
And something happened that I never expected.
After everyone left the dining room…
Brooklyn walked back into the kitchen alone.
She looked directly at the camera.
Then she smiled again.
“Poor little Anastasia.”
She whispered.
“She actually believed she belonged here.”
My body froze.
Then Brooklyn said something that changed everything.
Something that revealed this had never been about a dress.
It had been planned.
May you like
“She’ll be gone before the end of the week.”
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