Chapter 4Rewriting My Fate: The Billionaire's Forgotten Daughter

As a young child, I didn't understand the complexities of adult emotions.

Having nothing else to do, my mom spent her days shopping with her new wealthy friends.

She would bring home piles of gorgeous little dresses and hold them up against Claire.

She didn't have much experience shopping for kids yet, so many of the dresses were far too big.

I thought they were bought for me. Overjoyed, I put one on and ran up to her, spinning in a circle.

"Mom, is it pretty?"

What greeted me wasn't a compliment, but her explosive rage.

"Who told you to wear that?! You don't deserve it!"

She frantically ripped the dress off me, her long, manicured nails leaving bloody scratches all over my skin.

"Can't you be a little more sensible? These are your sister's clothes, and you're trying to steal them?!"

She was completely hysterical. After screaming at me, she turned around and pulled a terrified, crying Claire into her arms, comforting her with absolute tenderness.

"There, there, Claire. Mommy's got you."

As she said it, she didn't forget to aim a harsh kick at my leg, ordering me back to my room.

I was eight years old that year. Claire was three.

Stripped down to my underwear, I fought back tears and walked back to my room.

In my innocence, I desperately wanted to ask my mom: Since my sister has so many clothes, why couldn't I just wear this one big dress?

Why can't you spare just a tiny bit of love for me? Just a little bit.

But the words died in my throat the moment I saw the sheer, unbridled hatred in her eyes.