Chapter 2
“Stop!”
I lunged forward and kicked Damien Whitmore away from my mother.
He started to curse, but the moment he saw me, the words died in his throat.
That same girl–Brielle Sinclair–stepped up and slapped me across the face.
“You shoved me, and you hit my brother. Do you think the Whitmores are an easy target?”
“Brielle, she shoved you?” Damien’s tone turned sharp.
Her accusation made his eyes harden, and he exploded at me.
“You little bitch–you’re just as vile as your mother!”
I moved to confront him, but my mother grabbed my arm from the floor.
“Serena… let’s just go.”
Her voice was timid, her expression careful–frightened even.
“Oh, so you think you can just shove me and strut off?” Brielle sneered. “Figures–like mother, like daughter. Trash breeds trash.
She snatched up a bottle of Merlot from the table and hurled it at us.
My mother stepped in front of me, blocking it.
That’s when I saw them–deep bruises on her arms, the skin raw and infected.
“Mom!”
Shards from the broken bottle sliced her forearm, blood spilling down her sleeve. Still, she kept telling me to leave.
I glared at Damien and my other brothers–Colton, Preston, Landon.
They closed ranks in front of Brielle, their expressions openly mocking.
“What? You barged in here and we didn’t throw you out–that’s generous enough.”
“Tell your pathetic mother she should be grateful for the scraps my mom gave her.”
“She’s the one who’s actually your mother!” I shouted.
The entire room erupted in laughter.
“This girl must be insane. Mrs. Whitmore’s standing right here.”
“Her mom pretends to be Mrs. Whitmore, now she’s pretending to be the Whitmore heiress? The nerve.”
Brielle gave me a slow, pitying once–over.
“Wow. Bet you’ve never even met your dad.”
”
She smirked. “Then again, with a mom like yours, she probably couldn’t even tell you who he is. No wonder you’re drooling over mine.”
The coldness on my brothers‘ faces told me they thought the same.
“Get out,” they said in unison. “Stop ruining our mother’s birthday party.”
“Not just anyone can be Mrs. Whitmore.”
rlet out a short, sharp laugh.
Chapter 2
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“You don’t even recognize your own mother? Do you still remember who runs the
“Obviously our dad, you lunatic,” Brielle shot back, her smirk dripping arroganhitmore family?”
That social climber?
I couldn’t help the curl of my lips.
A man who’d never even been allowed in the family’s inner circle.
Someone who had never laid a hand on the Whitmore Signet Ring.
“Graham Whitmore?” I let out a cold snort.
“Everyone in the industry knows he only got the Whitmore name because he married in. He’s nothing but
dress–up.”
Brielle’s face twisted in fury.
Around the room, I caught the flicker of recognition on a few guests‘ faces.
“}
д
-in–law playing
ASTINGROVE FOOT SHAENT took her last, fter the weddin
Sure, he’s got a seat at the table, but he’s not the one calling the shots.”
Just then, the woman who’d stepped out earlier returned, heels clicking against the marble.
“I’ve already handed over all Whitmore affairs to my husband,” she announced coolly. “This is our family matter. Outside
wouldn’t understand.”
20
Chapter 2
