Chapter 192
“I was a teenager,” she says. “Of course I blamed you. But I’m glad I did, honestly. It made things clearer. I’ve had to fight every day to hold onto what should’ve always been mine. And if you’d stayed, if you’d been in the picture, I would’ve had to fight you too. And Emilia, I wouldn’t have let you win.”
There’s no venom in her tone. That’s what makes it worse. She means
- it.
My chest tightens. “So what did you do?” I ask. “To get even?”
“Oh, I’m not mad about Luther anymore,” she says, almost offhandedly. “I was, for a while. But blaming you wasn’t fair. I know that now. And… I’m sorry. For that.”
The apology lands with a strange kind of weight. But she keeps going, and her voice hardens again.
“When everything about you hit the news, the market didn’t care that you weren’t technically one of us anymore. The headlines dragged Vanderbilt Holdings through the mud. Investors panicked. Stocks dipped. And I spent weeks cleaning it up. Do you have any idea what that’s like? Sitting in boardrooms being questioned about someone who hasn’t even spoken to you in years?”
She lets out a soft laugh. “So… yeah. I made Tessa think she was pregnant. Watched her spiral for a few days. It gave me something back – a little balance. But we’re even now, so I’m not angry anymore. As long as you don’t cross any more lines, I’ll stay out of your way.”
EMILIA
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The rage comes in waves sharp, hot, impossible to swallow. Diana doesn’t even flinch. She sips her water like we’re talking about the weather, eyes locked on me like she’s measuring the exact second I’ll
snap.
And suddenly, I’m not here anymore. I’m thirteen again, watching a younger Diana scream because the housekeeper trampled her strawberry garden. She’d nearly burned the woman with a curling iron. She didn’t cry, didn’t throw a tantrum. Just calmly cornered her and flipped the switch.
Mum and Dad sent her to therapy. She came back quieter. Smarter. But she never stopped believing she was right.
“Bad actions should have bad consequences,” she used to say, like it was simple maths. “Good actions should have good ones. That’s fair.”
She was never cruel for no reason. That’s what made her dangerous.
“It must be the curse of brilliance,” Luther used to joke. “Her brain works too fast to make room for empathy.”
He didn’t know how right he was.
I take a breath. Then another. “So Tessa’s not pregnant.”
“Of course not,” Diana says, gesturing lazily to the sheet of paper under Tessa’s phone. “You can check.”
I do. Just to be sure. Her real test results – negative. I fold them again slowly, like handling something fragile.
“Why?” I ask. My voice is tight but steady. “Why would you do that?”
She shrugs like I’ve asked her what time it is. “I told you. I was mad. But I’m over it now.”
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But that’s not what I meant. And she knows it.
She sips her water again and meets my eyes. “It wasn’t fair. So I made it fair.”
“By punishing Tessa?”
“She was an easy target. And she matters to you. There’s nothing more to it.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.
Still nothing. Still stunned speechless by the absolute insanity that is my younger sister.
I’ve never understood the way her mind works. Probably never will. Trying to keep up with her logic is like running after a train that’s already crashed. So I do the only thing I can – shove the rage down, tuck it away, and force myself to focus on what matters.
At least for now.
“Is there a snake in this apartment?”
—
“No,” she says, and for the first time, she sounds mildly defensive. “I was going to bring Vixi, but I figured you’d make a big deal out of it.”
I nod, deciding there’s still some semblance of sanity left.
“When are you leaving?”
“I thought I’d stay until/Mum and Dad get back from Kigali. Maybe a week.”
“You’re not staying that long. Pack your things. I want you gone by
tomorrow.
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She tilts her head, curious. “You’re really mad.”
I laugh – humourless, sharp. “You think?”
She studies me like I’m a broken equation, then clicks her tongue. “You never fail to disappoint. I thought you’d at least be clever enough to recognise mercy when it’s staring you in the face. I could’ve chosen something messier, something permanent. But I didn’t. I picked the option that caused you the least damage. I mirrored your disrespect with inconvenience — nothing more.” She tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. “All this drama over such a minor play.”
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