She Has His Eyes, and He’s Marrying My Stepsister Chapter 02

Chapter 2: The Lie

“She’s mine,” I said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

His voice was so calm it was terrifying. Behind him, Sloane was smiling at the guests like nothing was wrong, but her fingernails were digging into her clutch.

“She’s mine,” I repeated, lifting my chin. “That’s the only answer you’re getting.”

I picked Ivy up, turned around, and walked away. My legs were shaking so badly I was sure I’d fall. I didn’t look back.

I made it as far as the ladies’ room before I had to set her down.

“Mommy, why are you crying?”

“I’m not, baby. My eyes are just tired.” I wiped my face fast. “Can you wash your hands for me? You’ve got punch on them.”

While she sang to herself at the sink, I gripped the counter and let the memory hit me. The one I’d spent five years trying to bury.

The night before Killian left for London. Grant’s twenty-fifth birthday. I was twenty-two, and I’d loved my brother’s best friend since I was sixteen. I found him alone on the rooftop, and I finally said it.

I’m in love with you.

He kissed me like he’d been waiting years to do it. And that night, in his apartment, he whispered things I still remembered word for word.

I’ll come back for you. I swear it.

Then he was gone.

Six weeks later, I was staring at two pink lines on a bathroom floor. His old number was disconnected. But I had his new London number. I typed the message with shaking hands.

I’m pregnant. It’s yours. I’m scared.

His reply came an hour later.

Get rid of it. That night was a mistake.

I read it until the words stopped making sense. Then I blocked the number, packed one bag, and moved two hours away to a town where nobody knew my name.

“Well. Isn’t this cozy.”

My head snapped up. Sloane stood in the doorway, her reflection beside mine in the mirror. Perfect blonde waves. Perfect white dress. A smile that never reached her eyes.

“Ivy, sweetheart,” I said, “go wait right outside the door, okay? Don’t move.”

Ivy looked between us and slipped out.

The second the door closed, Sloane’s smile vanished.

“You’re unbelievable,” she hissed. “You show up at my engagement party with that child?”

“Her name is Ivy.”

“I don’t care what her name is.” She stepped closer. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to leave. Tonight. And you’re never coming near Killian again.”

“I don’t want him.”

“Good. Because he doesn’t want you either. He never did.” She smirked. “He told me all about you, you know. The desperate little sister who threw herself at him. He laughed about it.”

It hit exactly where she aimed. Right in the oldest wound I had.

“Get out of my way, Sloane.”

She didn’t move. Instead, she leaned in and whispered, “If you tell him that kid is his, I will make your life hell. I’ll tell every lawyer in this state you’re an unfit mother. A single mom with a failing bakery and no money? Who do you think a judge will believe? You or a Voss?”

My blood turned to ice.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” She smoothed her dress and smiled again. “Now get out before you ruin my night.”

I grabbed Ivy’s hand and practically ran through the hotel lobby. Out into the cold. Down the steps. Across the parking lot to my rusty little Honda.

“Mommy, you’re walking too fast.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. We’re almost—”

I stopped.

Someone was leaning against my car.

Black suit. Hands in his pockets. Red stains still on his shoes.

Killian looked up slowly. His eyes went to Ivy, then to me.

“You have five seconds to tell me the truth,” he said quietly. “Or I find it out myself.”