That night, thunder rolled, lightning flashed, and the rain came down like a broken tap.
Charlotte Parker dashed through the downpour, holding her purse over her head. Water soaked through her clothes, and as she shook off the excess at the apartment entrance, she muttered under her breath, frowning, “Seriously? It was sunny this morning… where the hell did this storm come from?”
She stepped into the elevator and used the reflection on the metal wall to tidy her dripping hair. Her fingers brushed against her swollen cheek and she hissed in pain. Damn… her old man really lost it this time—that slap still hurt after a whole day.
She couldn’t help but replay what went down at breakfast. It all started when Vivian Shaw, her ever-so-lovely stepmother, suggested turning her late mom’s photo-developing room into a storage closet. Charlotte said no, of course. One comment led to another and before she knew it, the two of them were at each other’s throats—again.
Charlotte had a short fuse anyway. Fueled by anger, she ended up snapping, “Just because you married into the Parker family doesn't mean you’re the boss. You’re nothing but a hen that can’t lay eggs!”
Vivian’s face turned from her usual Botox-beige to dark green with rage. Without missing a beat, she threw herself into Thomas Parker’s arms as he came downstairs, sobbing like her life depended on it.
Thomas didn’t even give Charlotte a chance to explain—he just barked at her, accusing her of having zero respect.
Charlotte sneered at that memory. She never backed down from a fight. “Oh right, when Mom was alive, you wouldn’t even raise your voice in front of her ‘cause you knew you owed her everything. Parker Enterprises wouldn’t be shit without Grandpa. But Mom’s barely been gone two months, and look at you—already married this snake, gave her the master bedroom, turned the whole house into her design showroom, and now you're trying to erase the last place Mom left behind? You and her both can’t wait to pretend Mom never existed.”
That hit a nerve. His face darkened. Then came the slap that made her ears ring for half a minute.
“Ding”—the elevator chimed, snapping her back. Here it was, Evan Vaughn’s place. She hardly ever came over unless he invited her, but with Olivia Bennett off vacationing with her boyfriend and no place else to go after that mess at home, this was her only option.
At his door, she inhaled deeply and pressed the bell.
She hit it three, maybe four times, before someone finally opened up. Evan stood there in nothing but a towel, hair still wet, and as soon as he saw her, he stiffened like he saw a ghost. His voice faltered, “Charlotte, w-what are you doing here…”Charlotte Parker shoved the door open, stepping forward. “I just had a huge fight at home. Olivia’s not around, so I came to crash at your place… Come on, let me in, I’m soaked to the bone! It’s freezing!”
Evan Vaughn stood in the doorway, his body half-blocking the entrance. He glanced nervously inside before turning back to her. "Charlotte, uh... tonight’s kinda complicated. Look, I’ll give you some money—why don’t you get a hotel for the night? I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay?"
Charlotte stared at him, brows furrowing. "Complicated? There’s someone in there?"
Evan quickly said, “No, it’s not that...” But his shifty eyes told a different story.
Charlotte’s instincts kicked in hard. Somebody was inside, and it wasn’t just anyone—it had to be a woman.
She took a closer look—his messy hair, half-buttoned shirt—and the irritation in her chest burst into full-blown fury. “Evan Vaughn, are you seeing someone behind my back?”
“No, I’m not—”
Before he could finish, a sugary-sweet voice called out from inside, “Nigel, who’s at the door? Wasn’t that the delivery guy earlier?”
Then a head peeked around the corner.
When Charlotte saw who it was, her whole body tensed like lightning had struck through her. Fiona Shaw.
Her wonderful stepsister. The same Fiona who, just that morning, had stirred up drama between her and her dad, Thomas Parker.
Fiona clearly noticed her too and gave a slow, smug smile. She tugged her silk nightgown back over her shoulder, wandered over, and wrapped an arm around Evan’s neck. “Charlotte, what are you doing here?”
Charlotte stumbled back a step, arms stiff at her sides, her gaze dead cold. It took her a while to find her voice, like it was stuck somewhere deep in her throat. “Evan Vaughn, are you kidding me?”
If he’d cheated with any random woman, she might’ve walked away without saying a word. But Fiona? Fiona Shaw? The girl who had made her life miserable ever since her mom moved into their house?
Fiona had tried to rip everything from her—her spot in the family, her dad’s trust, things her mom left behind, even her relationship with her father.
And now, this? Her boyfriend?
Charlotte couldn’t believe how downright shameless Fiona could get.
Evan looked between the two women, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. After a beat, he mumbled, “I’m sorry…”
“Sorry?” Charlotte laughed, the kind of laugh that didn’t come from finding something funny but from sheer disbelief. “You think an ‘I’m sorry’ is gonna fix this? Evan, I swear, we’re not done here!” She yanked her purse up and swung it hard at his head, shouting as she struck, “Of all people, you went for her? Seriously? Do you even have a sense of decency!?”
