The-Wrong-Bride-Ares--Raven’s-story-(Maura,-Catharina)_bibis

She laughs, the sound hollow. “You wouldn’t even exist if not for me. Mom and Dad only had you
because we needed you for the stem cell transplant. You literally only exist to aid my life. Even our
parents didn’t want you, Raven. Can’t you see?” She frowns, as though her words make perfect sense.
“I’m the daughter they love most, the partner that’s the best fit for Ares, the person that’s best suited to
be a Windsor. It just made sense. It wasn’t personal.”
I bite down on my lip for a moment in an effort to squash the nausea her words make me feel.
“You’re the most entitled narcissist I’ve ever met, and it pains me that we’re related. I can’t do this,
Hannah. I’m done tolerating you. I don’t want you in my life. The moment you have your child, we’re
done. I vow to love your child like they’re my own, but you’re dead to me. I wish I had the courage to
cut you out of my life sooner. I wish I’d recognized your selfishness for the narcissistic behavior it is.
For years, I made excuses for you, telling myself and everyone around me that you were only that way
because you understandably wanted to live your life to the fullest. I’m done. I’m done with you,
Hannah.”
She smiles at me. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to care? Should I burst into tears and beg
you to forgive me? Because I won’t, Raven. I don’t regret a single thing I’ve done. The only things I
regret are not marrying Ares and underestimating you. I didn’t think you’d have the guts to truly go
after him, but it’s fine. The situation is still salvageable. So go ahead, my sweet little sister. Get out of
my way of your own volition.”
I grit my teeth and look away, my heart aching despite the anger I feel. I should be used to this by
now, yet her words still hurt. “You’re—” loud buzzing outside steals my attention, and I look out the
window to find a helicopter with The Herald’s branding on it hovering over our property.
Alarms start to sound around the house, and the curtains start to close automatically as two of our
guards rush into the room. “Mrs. Windsor, there has been a security breach. Mr. Windsor is on his
way home.”
One of our guards, Ben, hands me a tablet. My heart sinks when I see the photo that accompanies
the headline. It’s a photo of Ares and Hannah when they were younger. He’s standing behind her with
his arms wrapped around her and his lips pressed against her neck.
Torn apart by outdated family traditions and a vixen of a sister, the headline reads. My heart
sinks as the article chronicles their relationship, supported by photos taken throughout the years.
There is one photo in particular that makes me feel sick. They captured the three of us at the premiere
we recently attended. Ares has his arm wrapped around my waist, but he’s looking at Hannah. The
angle of the photo makes it look like he’s pining after her, and just looking at it hurts.
“I told you that the situation is still salvageable.”
I look up from the tablet in shock. “You did this?”
She grins. “You left me no choice. I told you to walk away while I still gave you a chance. Now
the entire world is going to know that you’re nothing but a cheap replacement for me. Everywhere you
go, people will be whispering about how sad it is that he doesn’t get to be with me. Once our child is
born, public sentiment will turn against you even more so. How long do you think you’ll last under
such scrutiny? The entire world will be telling you that you’re a home wrecker. They’ll tell you that
you’re a disgusting whore for stealing your sister’s fiancé. Have you checked the comments yet?”
I scroll down to find that her words are true. The article insinuates that I seduced Ares when it
was clear that Hannah had concerns about her career. I’m trembling as I grab my phone, only to find
the comment sections of all of my posts filled with harassment.
I put the tablet down and take a steadying breath. Not even in my wildest dreams did I think she’d
be capable of this. It’s one thing for her to go after Ares, but to actively try and ruin my reputation