“Aria Young, are you done with your little tantrum yet?”
I kept my cool. “I’m not throwing a tantrum.”
His voice was laced with fury. “That comment you left on my Instagram? You’re clearly trying to drag Chloe through the mud.”
“Is this how you need to paint her as the other woman just to feel better about yourself?”
“If you keep this up, I’m calling off the wedding!”
I let his cold, ruthless words wash over me, but I felt nothing, just an icy calm.
“Ryan Brown, what makes you think I’d want someone else’s leftovers?”
I ended the call with a click, leaving him to stew in his own rage.
Maybe those words hit harder than I expected because he called and texted me over and over after that.
I ignored every single one.
In ten days, I’d be marrying Sean, and all of this drama would be behind me.
I hoped for a peaceful last stretch, but Chloe had other ideas.
She knocked over my father’s urn.
The ashes went flying.
And instead of apologizing, she actually let her cat pee all over them.
Then she had the nerve to look at me, her face lit up with sick satisfaction.
“Sis, look! The ashes make perfect litter for my cat!”
In that moment, everything I’d been holding back exploded.
I grabbed the baseball bat by the door and swung it at her, fury driving every inch of it.
She took one hit and bolted, her face drained of color, her screams echoing through the house.
“Aria Young! You’ve crossed the line! How dare you hit your sister?!”
