Chapter 9
Even now, they couldn’t comprehend the depth of their betrayal.
“Caspian,” I said quietly, “Mom was literally driven to her death by Camilla Winters. And you chose Victoria over your own sister. Does it ever cross your mind that Mom might be watching all this
from wherever she is?”
Caspian’s face crumpled like wet paper. He stumbled backward as if physically struck.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked out, clawing at his hair. “What have I become? Who the fuck am I
anymore?”
Dad remained desperate, oblivious to his son’s breakdown.
He grabbed my hand with trembling fingers, his designer stubble now patchy and unkempt.
“Sweetheart, come on. This is just–this is just a rough patch. Every family has them.”
“You’re barely nineteen. How are you going to survive out there alone? You need us, Val. You need
me.”
The mighty Maxwell Dagonet–who once made Fortune 500 CEOs quiver–now practically on his
knees.
“Please, baby girl. One more chance. I’ll sell the Hamptons house. I’ll give to whatever charity you want. Just tell me what to do.”
his performance with clinical detachment, like watching a mediocre
row.
us, his Loro Piana cashmere coat hanging
believe we’re finished here,” he said, his accent more pronounced when irritated. “My granddaughter has made her wishes clear.
like they’d
97.4%
Chapter 9
the
We don’t have a grandfather!
checking my manicure. “He is, in fact, our
our mother’s biological father–and, incidentally, the
fascinating series of expressions, settling finally
not… you can’t be…”
the clinic
of Juilliard! Everyone’s against me! You have to do something!” Victoria stumbled in, looking like she’d been
before his expression transformed into pure
pathetic ass away from me! Didn’t I make it crystal clear you’re dead to me?”
rapidly, mascara smudging further. “Daddy… you always said I was your special Victoria blinked rapidly, mascara smudging girl. Your real daughter. How can
reached toward him desperately.
hand away like
your fucking mouth shut! Your whore mother destroyed mine, and you tried to cripple my sister. You think I give
her across the face–twice–the sound echoing through the
shoved her to her knees
RIGHT
Chapter 9
reddened from the blows, her cashmere sweater torn at
trust fund disaster.
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