Chapter 4

Carl said, annoyed, "Why didn't you even say hello to Laurel?"

I looked at the disgust written across his face. My heart was already dead, but somehow it still found room to ache. This was the child I'd loved for seven years...

Then, out of nowhere, Carl took Laurel's hand and said, "Laurel, just move in with us! You've got my baby brother or sister in there — you can't be careless! Our house is huge and gorgeous, you'll be so comfortable here. You need to rest and take care of yourself, and I can't wait to start teaching my little sibling!"

He shot me a glance, then announced loudly, "The bedroom on the third floor is really nice. Laurel, you should sleep there!"

The third-floor bedroom belonged to Dwayne and me.

Hearing that, Dwayne shot Carl an approving look. Whatever Carl had just said, it had landed exactly where he wanted it to.

On the drive home, I'd already looked into everything. The fire three years ago traced back to the fact that Laurel's parents had died in a car accident. At the time, the Arnault family happened to need the Winslet family's backing for a project, so Dwayne hadn't been able to go be with Laurel while she handled her parents' funeral — under pressure from my family, he hadn't even been allowed to show his face near her.

That was why he'd come home that night blackout drunk. He hadn't wanted to face me.

And under Dwayne's careful steering, Carl had slowly grown attached to gentle, considerate Laurel, while all I ever did was check his homework — no jokes, no charm, not even pretty to look at, dressed in clothes that had gone out of style years ago. Frumpy, through and through.

Thinking about it, I glanced down at what I was wearing and gave a bitter little laugh.

After I got together with Dwayne, I'd noticed he didn't care for anything extravagant, so I'd stopped wearing my expensive jewelry and carrying my designer bags.

Later, once Carl was born, he refused to let any nanny near him — he'd cry the second I left the room — so I ended up raising him myself, with no time or energy left to think about how I looked.

No wonder I couldn't compare to Laurel, who always dressed with such effortless, fashionable ease.

Laurel noticed the look on my face and hesitated, sounding troubled. "Carl, you two are the real family here. I'm an outsider — I shouldn't be staying in your house. And if I move in like this, Ms. Winslet won't be happy about it."

Carl clung to her hand, whining. He stuck out his lower lip. "Janine wouldn't dare be unhappy about it! Don't worry, she always listens to me and Dad. You don't need to worry about her at all. I really, really want us to be a family, Laurel! You're the most beautiful woman in the whole world. I wish you were my mom."

Carl really was Dwayne's son through and through. He'd seemed to understand, from the moment he was born, exactly how much I cared about the two of them — and exactly how certain he could be that I'd never fight back against either of them.

Watching their little performance play out below me, I laughed out loud. "Did the two of you forget something? This is my house. My name's on the deed. So who exactly are you, putting on a show in my home?"