The glittering lights of the ballroom faded behind me as I slipped back into the house. The echo of Lucian's departure still lingered in my veins like a static hum. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers near my shoulder, the burn of his stare, and the sharp dismissal he'd dealt Laura.
I was floating. High on something I couldn't quite name. Power, maybe. Satisfaction. Revenge. The night had gone nothing like it had in my past life—and for once, the weight of humiliation didn't rest on my shoulders.
I was halfway up the grand staircase when I heard the footsteps.
Too fast. Too familiar.
Then—
Pain.
My head snapped back as a cruel tug yanked at my hair, ripping a gasp from my throat. I stumbled down a step, catching the railing just in time before—
SLAP.
The sharp sting bloomed across my cheek, hot and jarring. My skin burned, my ears rang, and for a split second, I froze.
Laura.
Her chest heaved, her eyes blazing with hatred. "You little bitch," she hissed. "You think you can embarrass me? You think you can take what's mine?!"
My cheek still stung, the ringing still there—but the shock passed quickly, and something colder took its place. Something dangerous.
My hand moved before I even thought about it.
CRACK.
The satisfying sound of skin meeting skin echoed down the staircase. Laura reeled back, one hand flying to her face as her eyes widened in horror.
"Touch me again," I said, my voice ice, "and I swear to God, I'll break your fingers next."
Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again like a gasping fish. She couldn't believe it.
The slap.
Me, standing tall instead of running.
The shift in power was palpable. Her perfect little world had tilted, and she didn't know how to right it.
"You—you slapped me?" she croaked, eyes shimmering with disbelief.
I leaned in, my voice a whisper." And I'll do it again if you dare put your hands on me."
She took a shaky step backward, then shrieked, her voice splitting the quiet hall.
"MOM!"
I didn't flinch. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
Footsteps thundered from the west corridor, heels clicking rapidly on marble, and then—
"What is going on?"
Regina Miller.
Her tailored burgundy gown flowed around her like blood, her perfectly set curls bouncing as she stormed over. Her eyes locked on Laura first, taking in the disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the wide, watery eyes.
Then they landed on me.
Of course.
"Lia," she said sharply, stepping in front of her daughter. "What did you do?"
I raised a brow. " Did she tell you I did something?"
"She hit me!" Laura wailed, grabbing at her mother's arm. "She slapped me!"
"She yanked my hair and slapped me first," I replied coolly. "I only returned the favor."
"You lying little—!"
"Laura," Regina warned, then turned her full fury on me. "Don't you dare speak to your sister that way, you filth."
"Sister?" I laughed, the sound hollow. "We both know I was never more than a glorified maid in this house."
Regina's lips curled, but before she could speak, I added, "If you're looking for a scapegoat tonight, try checking on your other daughter. You know, the one who just turned a ballroom into a scandal magazine cover."
Her eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone."
I took a slow step down the staircase, meeting her glare without flinching. "Or what, Regina? You'll throw me in the basement again? Poison my tea? or maybe sell me to a drug dealer in Silicy?" Like she had threatened in the past.
Laura flinched. Regina's face tightened.
I leaned in just enough for my next words to strike home. " Or call me the daughter of a whore who seduced the man you couldn't keep to yourself?."
Regina paled, just slightly. Her composure cracked for the barest second—but that was all I needed.
Without waiting for a reply, I turned on my heel and walked up the remaining stairs. My heart was racing, fear pumping through my veins but I refused to show it.
Not to them.
Not anymore.
I didn't look back.
Not when Laura burst into fresh sobs behind me.
Not when Regina whispered something sharp in a voice I couldn't quite hear.
Not when the sound of a slammed door echoed through the hall behind me.
Let them fume. Let them plot.
Because this time?
I wasn't going down.