The incredulity of the situation left me momentarily speechless. The absurdity of their request was matched only by their audacity in demanding it. I glanced around the opulent ballroom, the chandeliers casting a golden glow over the well-dressed crowd. Conversations buzzed around me, glasses clinked, and laughter echoed against the walls. But in that moment, all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart.
Sabrina’s smile didn’t waver. “It’s for the good of the family, Vivien. You know how much family means to all of us.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Family? You mean the same family who’s asking me to sacrifice everything I’ve worked for so that Sabrina can play house?”
Derek shifted uncomfortably beside Sabrina, clearly wishing to be anywhere but in the middle of this brewing storm. “Look, Vivien, we’re not trying to pressure you—”
“Oh, but you are,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “You’re all just assuming that because I’m single, my life and my accomplishments don’t matter. That I should simply hand over my life’s work because my little sister decided she wants a bigger closet.”
My mother’s eyes darkened. “Vivien, don’t be dramatic. This is about supporting each other.”
“Supporting or sacrificing?” I shot back, my patience wearing thin.
Sabrina feigned innocence, her voice dripping with mock sincerity. “I thought you’d be happy for me, Viv. I thought you’d want to help.”
“Help?” I repeated, incredulous. “You want me to give away my home and everything I’ve achieved. That’s not help; that’s theft.”
Sabrina’s expression hardened, the façade of the doting sister slipping away. “You always have to be so selfish, don’t you? It’s always about you.”
“No,” I replied, a calm settling over me. “It’s always been about you, Sabrina. And I’ve had enough.”
The silence that followed was oppressive, the tension palpable. Then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, Sabrina’s hand flew across my face, the sharp sting echoing through the room. Gasps rose around us, but then, inexplicably, laughter bubbled up, a twisted symphony of schadenfreude that filled the air.
I stood there, my cheek burning, but my resolve hardened. I wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not ever.
Instead, I made a decision. I would not let this humiliation go unanswered. As the laughter faded, my mind was already crafting a plan that would ensure they never underestimated me again.
I turned, leaving the ballroom, each step measured and deliberate. I didn’t need their approval or validation. I had something more potent: the determination to protect what was mine and teach them a lesson they’d never forget.
A few whispers followed as I exited, but I ignored them. The die was cast, and I was ready to see it through. This wasn’t just about a penthouse. This was about respect, which I intended to claim with a calculated vengeance that would leave them speechless.
The glimmer of a strategy formed in my mind, one that would ensure not only that my rights and achievements were recognized but also that the notion of taking what was mine would be a mistake too costly for any of them to repeat.