I wake up in my loft, sunlight blasting through those giant windows like it's trying to burn my eyes out. The bed's way too big, sheets cold as hell, like they're pissed at me too. I sit up, hair a total rat's nest, and catch my reflection in the mirror across the room. Platinum blonde, sharp cheekbones, eyes that could slice through steel. But all I see is Sienna's damn shadow. My sister, always stealing the spotlight, Father's heir, Ethan's perfect bride, the Alverez golden child. Me? I'm just the one who shows up late and gets a pat on the head.
I swing my legs off the bed and grab my robe, yanking the belt tight like it'll hold me together. Today's Sienna's big wedding, and I'm supposed to plaster on a smile and clap like some supportive sidekick. My stomach's doing flips, and not the fun kind. I shuffle to the bathroom, splash water on my face, but it doesn't touch the ache in my chest. I've been chasing Sienna's shadow my whole life, and I'm still eating her dust.
Downstairs, the kitchen smells like coffee and toast, which is about the only thing keeping me sane. Marcus is already there, leaning on the counter in a suit that probably costs more than my car. His blue eyes glint like he's got dirt on everybody, and lately, he's been my shady little lifeline. I don't trust him, guy's too slick, but I need him, and that's the worst part.
"Morning, Valentina," he says, all smooth, sliding a manila folder across the counter like it's a bomb. "Figured you'd want this before the big show."
I plop onto a barstool and flip the folder open. Bank statements, transaction logs, all stamped with Sienna's name. Offshore accounts, millions stashed away, linked to Alverez Corp. My pulse goes wild, but it's not victory pumping through me, it's shame, hot and bitter, burning my throat. I'm spying on my own sister, digging for her secrets, and it feels like I'm stabbing something bigger than her.
"These are hers?" I ask, voice low, like saying it quiet makes it less real.
Marcus smirks, sipping his coffee like he's in a damn movie. "Every penny. Your dad's been funneling cash to her for years. You know she's got more pull in the company than she lets on, right?"
I slam the folder shut, fingers shaking like I've had too much caffeine. "She doesn't act like it. Too busy playing Miss Perfect."
"Exactly," Marcus says, leaning in close, voice dropping. "She's got the board wrapped around her finger, your dad's blessing, the works. But you, Valentina, you're the dark horse. We can use this. Take what you deserve."
His words light a fire in me, but it's all tangled up with guilt. I want power, hell yeah, but not like this, not by tearing Sienna apart. I shove the folder away. "I'll think about it. After the wedding."
Marcus raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't push. "Don't sleep on it too long. Chances like this don't wait." He grabs his jacket and heads for the door. "Catch you at the altar."
The door clicks shut, and I'm alone with that damn dossier. I stuff it into a drawer, heart pounding like a drum. I've gotta get ready, play the good sister, but Marcus's voice echoes: Take what you deserve. I want to, God, I do, but why does it feel like I'm losing a piece of myself?
I'm halfway through my makeup when a memory hits like a sucker punch. I'm nine, sitting by the Christmas tree in the Alverez estate's big hall. The lights are twinkling, and Sienna, eleven, is tearing into a gift, her smile brighter than the damn star on top. I'm clutching this glass snowflake ornament, delicate and sparkly, my favorite thing ever. I saved up my allowance for weeks to get it for her, hoping she'd love it like I did.
"Merry Christmas, Sienna," I say, holding it out, hands shaky but proud. "Got this for you."
Her hazel eyes go wide. "It's so pretty, Val!" She hugs me, and for a second, I feel like I'm somebody. But the next morning, the snowflake's gone. I dig under her tree, check her room, everywhere. Nada. When I ask, she shrugs, already playing with her new dolls. "Maybe it broke," she says, like it's nothing.
I bawled my eyes out that night, alone in my room. It wasn't just the ornament, it was how she forgot me, like I was invisible. Father's voice still rings in my head: Sienna's the future, Valentina. Learn from her. I slam my mascara wand down, my reflection blurry with tears. Screw learning. I'm done being her shadow.
I hit up a boutique downtown to clear my head before the wedding circus starts. My dress for tonight, this killer crimson gown that hugs every curve, is ready. The saleswoman, some tiny lady with a bun so tight it's gotta hurt, hands me the garment bag. "You're gonna turn heads, Miss Alverez," she says, smiling like she's trying to sell me the whole store.
I force a laugh. "That's the vibe." But as I head out, my phone buzzes. Ethan: You're coming tonight, right? Sienna's nervous. Needs her sister. My grip tightens. Ethan, with his charming smile and blue eyes, always playing the perfect fiancé. But I know his secret, and it's a knife in my gut.
I text back: Wouldn't miss it. My fingers itch to call him out, to scream the truth, but I shove the phone in my purse and climb into the car. Tonight, I'll play my part, but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this act up.
Back at the loft, I meet Father for a quick lunch in the dining area. He's in a charcoal suit, cigar sitting on a tray, the air thick with its smell. He's quieter than usual, face lined with something heavy I can't pin down. I poke at my salad, waiting for him to drop whatever's on his mind.
"You've been off, Valentina," he says finally, voice low, like he's measuring every word. "This wedding's a big deal. For all of us."
I meet his eyes, hunting for a speck of warmth, but they're cold as stone. "I know. I'm here, aren't I?"
He leans forward, fingers steepled like he's about to pass judgment. "Sienna's carrying the family name tomorrow. But you've got a job too. Don't forget it."
My fork freezes. A job. Always a supporting role, never the star. "What do you want me to do?" I snap, sharper than I mean to.
He doesn't blink. "Back her up. Be the sister she needs. And keep your eyes peeled. Not everyone at that altar's on our side." His words land heavy, and I wonder if he's got intel, or if he's just testing me.
"I'll do my part," I say, shoving my plate away. My appetite's toast. Father nods, but his stare lingers, like he's sizing me up. I stand, smoothing my dress. "Gotta get ready. See you tonight."
He doesn't stop me, but his silence chases me to the elevator. My phone buzzes again, Ethan: You looked gorgeous at the rehearsal. Save me a dance? My heart twists. I delete the text, hands shaking. He doesn't get to play both sides, not after what I know.
The afternoon's a blur of hair and makeup. I'm in my bedroom, crimson gown laid out like a challenge. I'm curling my hair when my assistant, Lila, knocks. "Miss Valentina, got a delivery," she says, holding out a velvet box.
I frown, taking it. "Who's it from?"
She shrugs. "No clue. Came with a card." She hands me a small envelope and dips out. I open the box, diamond earrings, sparkling like tiny stars. They're gorgeous, but my chest tightens. I tear open the envelope, pulling out a card with elegant handwriting I know too well: To my daughter, with love. Signed with just an "S."
I stare at the card, breath catching. Sienna? Father? The earrings feel like a bribe, or worse, a trap. I toss them on the vanity, my reflection caught between fury and confusion. Tonight, I'll walk into that wedding with a smile, but this gift, this lie, changes everything.