When Tristan first learned of the engagement, he had gone to the Monticello family to break it off. It was the same day I had returned home for the first time. The moment he saw me, he recognized me—not as his fiancée’s sister, but as the girl who had excelled in the city’s middle school exams. When he found out I was the rightful daughter of the Monticellos, he thought the engagement would naturally shift to me.
But I was wrong to believe my return would mean anything. Yes, I was their daughter by blood, but I was never truly one of them. They didn’t even consider changing my last name.
I remembered how, the day after I came home, Lauren had promised to take me to legally change my name. But when Madilyn fell ill with a fever, crying hysterically for her mother, Lauren abandoned our plans without hesitation. I stood in the living room, feeling small and insignificant, while Adrian passed by with a sneer.
"Serves you right," he spat. "Do you really think you deserve the Monticello name?"
Those words hadn’t hurt as much as they could have. After all, it was just a surname. I had survived worse. Life with the Smith family had been brutal—I was nothing more than a servant to them. I had barely escaped being married off to an old bachelor to pay for their son’s education. The Monticellos had saved me from that fate, and for a time, I had been grateful, even to Adrian, despite how he treated me.
But I soon realized he was as cruel as those who had raised me. The only person who had ever shown me kindness was Tristan. He visited the Monticello mansion not for Maddy, but for me. He brought me books, asked about my interests, and treated me like I mattered.
Of course, Adrian noticed. His hostility toward me grew with each visit. Unable to confront Tristan directly, he aimed all his anger at me.
"Aliyah, what are you trying to do with Tristan?" he once asked, his voice dripping with venom. "You know he’s going to marry Maddy, don’t you?"
That was the moment I learned Tristan and Maddy were engaged. At first, I had only seen him as a friend, but over time, I had fallen for him—the only person who made me feel seen. And now, I felt ashamed, like a thief, for harboring feelings for someone who wasn’t mine to love.