Chapter 2After marrying the disabled CEO, the family that forced me to marry on behalf of them went crazy with regret.

There were three days left until the wedding.

I thought that by agreeing to break off the engagement and marry in her place, I could spend these three days in peace. But as I walked to the dining table for breakfast as usual, Mrs. Davies emerged from the kitchen, let out a shriek, and rushed over to snatch the plate from in front of me.

"Mrs. Davies, what are you doing?" I frowned.

"Miss Stella, this breakfast is for Miss Scarlett. And the seat you’re in right now? That's Miss Scarlett's too."

She deliberately emphasized "Scarlett."

"From now on, you'll sit over there," she pointed to the very edge of the dining table.

A surge of anger flared in my chest.

Even if I was the imposter heiress, it wasn't a servant's place to bully me.

"Who gave you these rules?" My voice turned cold.

"Sister, don't blame Mrs. Davies. I was the one who said I wanted to sit here."

Scarlett Sutton appeared, I didn't know when, her voice soft and weak, her eyes slightly red-rimmed.

She was dressed in a beautiful lace nightgown, a picture of innocent vulnerability.

"Scarlett, why didn't you sleep longer?" Mother, hearing the commotion, also came out of the kitchen, carrying a nourishing smoothie.

"Mom, I was afraid Sister would misunderstand Mrs. Davies…" Scarlett lowered her head aggrievedly.

Father walked over too, and seeing the scene, his face immediately darkened.

"Stella Sutton! Are you bullying Scarlett again!"

"Scarlett is our biological daughter! Get your identity straight!"

"She just came back; she's not used to many things. Can't you just make allowances for her?"

Mother echoed him, "That’s right, Stella. Scarlett suffered so much hardship outside. As her older sister, you should be more understanding."

I stood rooted to the spot, watching them, a picture of a happy family of three, while I felt like an unwanted outsider.

All the accusations shot at me like sharp arrows.

This blatant favoritism made my chest feel suffocating.

Injustice swelled up like a tide, but I pushed it down fiercely.

What else could I say?

If I said I hadn’t bullied her, would they believe me?

If I said I was also a victim, would they feel sorry for me?

No, they wouldn't.

In their eyes, every tear Scarlett shed was precious and deserving of pity, while all my feelings were insignificant.

I silently walked to that corner, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

Scarlett Sutton picked up the smoothie, sipping it delicately, a smug smile playing on her lips.