Chapter 5

ELLA

The Blake mansion loomed before me, a painful reminder of what I'd never truly had – a home. Music and laughter spilled from inside as I climbed the marble steps. Five years here, yet it never felt mine.

I pushed open the door, stepping into a cacophony of celebration. The foyer overflowed with people, champagne glasses clinking. My stomach dropped when I realized what was happening – Kate's engagement party.

"The Belmont Hotel ballroom is reserved for next month," Kate's voice carried above the chatter. "Ryan says it's the only venue worthy of our union."

The Belmont. The only seven-star hotel in the city. It takes serious connections just to book a table here.

"Oh my God," a familiar voice cut through my thoughts. "Look who decided to crash the party."

Olivia Parker, Kate's best friend, pointed at me. Heads turned. Conversations died. Kate's eyes found mine, surprise quickly replaced by calculated sympathy.

"Why are you hiding by the door, sis?" Kate's sugary voice made my teeth hurt. "Come in! It's not awkward at all that Ryan chose me instead."

Laughter rippled through the crowd. My cheeks burned, but I stepped forward, chin raised.

"I'm just here for my things," I said, heading for the stairs.

Olivia blocked my path, swaying with intoxication. She sneered about the "scraps" Kate had generously let me keep, including the fiancé she'd "upgraded" from my grasp.

My fingers tightened around a champagne flute I'd grabbed. "Move."

She leaned closer, whispering Ryan's supposed disgust at touching my scarred face and broken body.

Something snapped. I flung the champagne into her face. Gasps echoed as liquid dripped down her shocked expression.

"You bitch!" She swung at me.

I caught her wrist mid-air, years of physical therapy giving my grip surprising strength. "Try again and you'll regret it."

I pushed her back. She stumbled onto a sofa, shocked that I'd defended myself.

"You crippled nobody! You don't belong here!" she shrieked. "You're just some country girl with a limp!"

The room fell silent. Even Kate looked uncomfortable.

"Olivia, that's enough," Kate stepped forward, playing the gracious sister. "Ella can't help that she's... different. After all, I'm the one intruding."

I almost laughed at her performance. Kate turned my humiliation into an opportunity to showcase her false kindness.

She explained our situation with theatrical sadness - being switched at birth, me growing up with her criminal father and depressed mother in a small town while she enjoyed luxury. When her father went to prison and her mother remarried, DNA tests revealed the mistake.

"It must be so hard, coming back to your real family only to be an outsider," Kate said, touching my shoulder. "Is that why you're clinging to Ryan? Some misplaced need to belong?"

I shook her hand off, grabbing another champagne flute. "You want to talk about belonging?" Without hesitation, I poured it over her head. "Enjoy my leftovers."

Chaos erupted. Olivia and two other girls pushed me onto the sofa. Olivia held a bottle of champagne.

"Let's see how you like it!" She forced the bottle toward my mouth while others held my arms.

I struggled, champagne spilling down my blouse. When she pulled back, I spat the liquid into her face, ruining her makeup.

The slap came fast, stinging my cheek. "Disgusting trash!"

"ENOUGH."

The command cut through the room. The door stood open, framing several men in dark suits who quickly separated Olivia and her friends from me.

Then I saw him, rolling through the doorway in his wheelchair. Jack Sterling, dressed impeccably, his gray eyes cold as steel. The room fell silent.

Marcus helped me up. My left leg throbbed from being twisted during the scuffle. I limped toward Jack, my gait more pronounced than usual.

"Jack," I whispered, relief washing over me. "What are you doing here?"

He gestured me closer. My foot caught on the carpet, and I stumbled, falling awkwardly across his lap, my hands bracing against his chest.

Jack murmured something about my eagerness, his mouth close to my ear. Heat rushed through me, embarrassment mixing with something more dangerous.

"I wasn't—" I tried to push myself upright.

His arm circled my waist, keeping me in place. "Stay. You seem comfortable."

Kate demanded to know who Jack was and why he'd entered their home. Her tone carried the authority of someone who owned everything around her.

Before Jack could answer, Marcus grabbed Olivia's arm. "You should learn some manners."

"How dare you touch me!" Olivia struggled.

Marcus nodded to the security men, who produced the champagne bottle. "Force-feeding others is assault. Perhaps you'd like a taste of your own medicine?"

Kate stepped forward. "You can't just barge into our home!"

"It's my home too," I interrupted. "Or did you forget that part of your tearful story?"

"A technicality. Everyone knows you don't belong here."

"Careful," Marcus said softly. "You're addressing Mr. Sterling's girlfriend."

Whispers erupted. Kate's face contorted with shock before she recovered.

"How fortunate for Ella to find someone so... accommodating to her situation." Her gaze flicked to Jack's wheelchair. "Though I suppose broken recognizes broken."

"Ms. Blake," Marcus addressed Kate. "I'd reconsider your words. You speak of belonging, yet your blood carries a thief's heritage."

Kate paled. "How dare you mention—"

"Your biological father's current address is Walpole State Penitentiary, correct? Family history does tend to surface eventually."

Kate stood speechless. Her eyes darted to Margaret and Richard, who looked equally uncomfortable.

"Ella, get your things," Jack said quietly. "We're leaving."

I nodded gratefully. Upstairs, Jack followed, his wheelchair humming on the hardwood floors. He watched as I entered my small north-facing bedroom.

"This is where they put you?" His voice contained controlled anger as he surveyed the plain furniture and faded wallpaper.

"It's just a room." I grabbed my suitcase, filling it with clothes, books, and medications. My belongings barely filled half the case. Five years here, and I'd accumulated almost nothing.

When we returned downstairs, Kate waited by the door.

"Leaving so soon?" Her voice dripped with false concern. "Where will you go?"

"She'll be with me," Jack answered before I could speak.

"How sweet." Kate's eyes were cold. "Jumping from one man to another so quickly. Society has standards. This reflects poorly on the family name."

The slap echoed through the foyer, my palm stinging from contact with her cheek. Her head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming instantly.

"The next time you mention standards," I hissed, "remember you stole your sister's fiancé."

Kate's mask slipped, raw hatred flashing in her eyes before she recovered with theatrical tears.

I turned my back on her, on all of them, and walked out of that house for the last time.

In Jack's car, silence stretched between us.

"Thank you," I finally said, voice barely audible. "For coming when you did."

"That's what boyfriends do," Jack replied, eyes not leaving my face. "Though I'd prefer if other men kept their hands off what's mine."

I should have bristled at his possessiveness, but after Ryan's betrayal, Jack's unapologetic claim felt strangely comforting. He didn't seem bothered by my limp or scarred face – fake as the scar might be.

"Do I disgust you?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, my fingers touching the fake scar.

"I want you in my bed, Ella." His blunt response sent heat through my body. "Does that answer your question?"

My heart pounded. Ryan had never wanted me after the accident, treating intimacy as a chore. Jack looked at me with hunger, scars and all.

"Don't think about him," Jack said, reading my mind. "Especially not in my presence."

I turned to the window, wondering what I'd gotten myself into. Jack's hand found mine in the darkness, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. I should have pulled away, but I didn't.

Sometimes the devil you choose is better than the angel who betrays you.