The Vanishing Heiress

Chapter 15

Ethan Sterling's heart ached with a dull, persistent pain as he listened.

If only time could be rewound. If only he could go back seven years and stop all of this from happening.

But there were no "if onlys" in this world.

What was done could not be undone. The harm had been inflicted, and there was no way to reverse it.

Slap!

A sharp sound echoed through the room.

Rachel Montgomery clutched her stinging cheek, staring in disbelief at her father.

Mr. Montgomery's expression was dark, his eyes filled with disappointment.

In truth, a thousand emotions raged inside him—this single slap was far too lenient.

"Dad—"

Mr. Montgomery looked at her coldly, his voice icy. "You don't deserve to call me that anymore."

His eyes reddened. "Didn't you just say it yourself? You're not a Montgomery. In that case, what we owe Megan, we'll repay. And what you owe her—you will pay for it too!"

The last words were spoken with a ferocity that betrayed the chaos and agony in his heart.

For a moment, everyone froze.

Emily Montgomery was the first to react. She closed her eyes, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

Then she turned to Rachel.

"You're a thief. A criminal. I'll never forgive you."

Without hesitation, she walked out of the suffocating house.

Her steps faltered as she left, nearly stumbling.

Anyone would struggle to accept it.

The person she had defended all along was the true villain.

And what about the one who had been wronged all this time? How much despair, how much pain had she endured?

Emily couldn't bear to think about it.

Rachel stood frozen, her face alternating between red and white.

Somehow, Emily's words—thief—cut deeper than the slap.

They filled her with shame, with humiliation.

"Ethan, I—"

She barely got the words out before his merciless glare silenced her.

His expression was frigid, his tone colder than she had ever heard. "You don't have the right to call me that anymore."

"But—just because of this one thing, there's no going back?" Rachel pleaded.

She didn't understand.

She and Ethan had grown up together.

How could he throw away all those years over Megan, over a few mistakes?

"Weren't you the one who always doted on me? Why can't you forgive me?"

Her voice was sincere, as if she genuinely wanted an answer.

Ethan scoffed. "Even now, you still think what you did was just a small mistake."

"Wasn't it? Megan only spent seven years in prison—she didn't die!"

Rachel's tone was matter-of-fact.

"Do you have any idea what she endured in there? She was covered in injuries!"

"So what? She deserved it! She never should have come back!" Rachel snapped, past the point of restraint.

"Yes, I faked it! Yes, I made sure she suffered! I wanted her dead!"

"But I couldn't be too obvious—because then I'd be the one you all hated!"

Her voice broke as she reached out, trying to wrap her arms around Ethan's neck.

"Ethan—"

Crack.

The sound of bone snapping echoed sharply.

Ethan gripped her wrist with crushing force, his expression dark. The pressure was enough to fracture the bone.

Rachel screamed, clutching her injured hand.

Meanwhile, on a plane.

Megan Sullivan stirred awake from a long, heavy dream. She lifted the window shade, staring blankly at the dark sky outside.

In her dream, she had seen her parents, her younger sister Emily—and Ethan, the man she had loved for so many years.

"If only you hadn't come back. Why did you have to do something so terrible?"

"Megan, I love you. Marrying Rachel was just a pretense."

They didn't love her. They hadn't believed her.

Gray. Damp. A gloomy sky—or maybe just the tears she had forced back.

But then—

The flight attendant's voice crackled over the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing in Dominica in approximately five minutes. The current ground temperature is 20 degrees Celsius..."

Megan pushed the bleak dream aside.

As the city lights grew brighter outside the window, she allowed herself a small smile.

Dominica was here.

And with it—her new beginning.