My Ex Walked Into My Flowershop After I Faked My Death Chaptre 02
I rocked Jax until he fell asleep, then let my mind drift back six years.
Back then, I was the brightest jewel in Westbrook Heights‘ high society.
My adoptive parents spoiled me rotten. I’d followed my dream to become a model.
I loved the spotlight, loved showing the world my beauty and confidence.
Life was perfect. My biggest worry was picking out a diamond carat and a designer wedding dress for my wedding to Kael.
Then one day, my parents came to me with red eyes, leading a thin, dark–skinned girl.
“Elara, this is your sister. She’s… our biological daughter.”
I reached for her hand at once and pulled out all the prettiest dresses from my closet.
“Lila, from now on we’re family. What’s mine is yours.”
I truly felt guilty, like I owed her for twenty years of stolen life.
I took her everywhere, split everything with her. Everyone said we were as close as real sisters.
But that line–what’s mine is yours–became the curse that cost me everything.
Once Lila came back, the Carter–Thorne engagement fell apart.
The Thorne family patriarch visited in person, his tone unyielding.
“The Thorne bride must be Carter’s rightful biological daughter. She must hold full inheritance to the Carter Group!”
My parents went silent.
They loved me, but when weighed against the family’s fortune, I–an adopted outsider was on the lighter side of the scale.
That night, I locked myself in my room and cried.
A tap came at the window.
Kael stood in the garden below the balcony, his white shirt dust–streaked, but his boyish charm unmissable.
“Elara, don’t be scared.”
He kissed my tears away, holding me like he wanted to merge me into his bones.
“I don’t care about some arranged marriage. Even if I give up being Thorne heir, the only person I’m mariying is you, Elara Voss.”
The night wind was cold.
But my tears were hot. His kiss and his promise burned.
Under the Carters‘ care, Lila slowly shed her rough country look and grew prettier by the day.
Somewhere along the way, Kael stopped looking at Lila with cold distaste.
Once, as I taught Lila about skincare, I joked.
“Don’t spoil her too much. She’s cute without all this makeup.‘
We both fell quiet the second the words left my mouth.
And that was only the beginning.
Kael had always been fiercely territorial.
Once I accidentally used his cup. He never touched it again, though he didn’t yell.
But during a movie, Lila complained she was thirsty, grabbed his soda, and took a sip.
He froze… then drank from the same can like nothing was wrong.
The old Kael wouldn’t even touch fruit unless I fed it to him. He never lifted a finger.
I’d thought it was sweet, and I’d loved every second.
But at a Carter family gala, he calmly put on gloves, peeled shrimp, removed the veins, and placed them neatly in Lila’s bowl.
He met my stunned stare and looked away awkwardly, muttering an explanation.
“Lila grew up poor in the countryside. She never even had shrimp. I’m just looking out for her.”
“Elara, you’ve always been kind and generous. You’re not jealous of Lila, are you?”
That one light line–kind and generous–crushed down on me like a mountain, smothering all my hurt.
I kept telling myself it was just pity.
Until the day I flew home early from an overseas shoot to surprise Kael for his birthday.
I pushed open the front door. Clothes were scattered from the entryway to the bedroom.
A designer dress shirt–the one I’d bought him.
A silk camisole–the one Lila had gushed over, and Kael had swiped his card to buy.
My vision blurred. I told myself not to jump to conclusiotis,
Trembling, I stepped into the bedroom. All my self–deceit shattered at the sight of two tangled bodies in the
bed.