Storming through the field, energized by rock music, clinking glasses, murmurs, and laughter, Alicia took in the glittering dresses, radiant faces, and waiters roaming with trays of wine glasses. Upon spotting Wilson and Alison sitting close together at a round table, she made her way over.

Alison sat with her legs crossed, her fingers laced with Wilson’s. She gazed at him, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with something Alicia hadn’t expected—contentment. Wilson, dressed in his olive-black suit, toyed with their entwined hands, whispering something that made Alison’s laughter spill out—light, carefree, a sound that twisted in Alicia’s chest.

At that moment, all Alicia could focus on was Alison’s betrayal. The memories of her constant rebukes toward Wilson, advising Alison to break up with him, surged in her mind. Fury bubbled inside her. Her stomach churned. Fury rose, tightening her jaw, and before she could stop herself, her hand was already moving.

The slap rang out, sharp and unforgiving.

Alison’s head snapped back, eyes wide, her mouth falling open in shock. For a brief moment, the world seemed to freeze—then anger flickered across Alison’s face. Her fingers curled into fists, but she said nothing.

“Is this what you’ve been doing?” Alicia’s voice was a tremor, but it wasn’t fear. It was something deeper, more desperate. Her breath hitched as tears stung the corners of her eyes. She gritted her teeth, but her voice broke anyway. “You... I trusted you.”

As Alison opened her mouth to respond, Wilson stood, holding her back with one arm. His cold gaze turned to Alicia, eyes narrowing in disgust.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the sudden hush that fell over the field. The music stopped, and all eyes turned toward them.

Alicia’s heart hammered in her chest. Her hands clenched at her sides, her fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, eyes darting between the two of them. Wilson stepped forward, his presence like a dark shadow encroaching on her.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Tell me, what nerve do you have to hit her?"

Alicia’s lips trembled. She wanted to scream, to throw everything she had at him, but all she could do was stand there, her knees weak, her feet aching with each passing second. When her gaze shifted to Alison who met her gaze with an unflinching stare. A fire ignited in Alicia’s chest, and she took a step closer.

Wilson stepped forward to block her path, his eyes burning with fury.

“I’ll ask you again. What nerve do you have to slap her?”

“She’s my sister! My blood sister, you monster!” Alicia’s voice cracked with raw emotion.

"And you're a bitch," Wilson sneered. "Cheating on me, sleeping with your best friend—" He shook his head. "You thought I wouldn't find out?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“You liar!” Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief flooding her features. Her hand twitched, ready to strike, but before she could, Wilson grabbed her wrist, his grip firm, his smirk cruel.

“Ain't you afraid of me now, huh? You still think I won’t hurt you?” he whispered, glancing at her bandaged feet.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” Alicia cried out, her wrist, heart, and feet all throbbing in pain. Her mind was spinning, but everything about her body was locked in agony.

Wilson smirked. “Bastard?” He wiped the corner of his lips as though there were a smudge of saliva there. Taking a step closer, his face nearly touching hers, he whispered in her ear with venom.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you, not even from someone who’s been raped by her biological father.” He snickered, savoring her shock.

Alicia’s eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat. Wilson shoved her hand away with a dismissive flick and scoffed at her, relishing her disbelief.

"You won’t ask me how I found out?" he gloated. "Who else knows about it? Jeff, I think!" He sniggered. "You fool!"

Alicia stumbled back, her chest tight, as though the air had been knocked from her lungs and her face drained of colour as his words sank in. Her legs buckled, trembling beneath her, and the tears she’d desperately held in check spilt over, each one a bitter reminder of a past she’d fought to bury for years.

"Let's go, babe," Wilson said, extending his hand to Alison.

Alison, her smile faltering, glanced at Alicia. She couldn’t quite tell if she felt relief or guilt. A cold, uneasy feeling churned in her stomach. Her hands tightened around her handbag, her heart pounding in her chest, and sweat beaded on her forehead. Slowly, she took Wilson's hand, allowing him to gently pull her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" Wilson whispered, his attention now on Alison, noticing her anxiety.

"Get me out of here," Alison whispered back, casting a fleeting, guilty glance at Alicia.

Wilson wrapped his arms around Alison’s waist, lifting her as though she were a princess. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest.

Without sparing Alicia another glance, Wilson pushed past her and strode through the crowd.