The maid parked the car for Claudia. By the time she pulled out of the garage, Lydia was already standing at the curb—waiting. Right in the middle of the road. Her once-elegant dress was still stained with soup, her hair clumped in sticky strands. She looked a mess—but her smug little smile said she thought she'd won. Claudia could picture it perfectly: Lydia's teary voice, all soft and sweet, comforting everyone inside after she left. "It's not Claudia's fault, she's just upset," that kind of crap. The perfect picture—poor Lydia, ever-forgiving; doting parents, loyal brothers. A family full of warmth and lies. Now the sisters stood face-to-face beside the car. "Claudia," Lydia said coolly, "I told you. Everything you have, I'll take. One by one. You owe me." Claudia looked her over—the adoptive sister who'd been fighting her for scraps since childhood—and asked, genuinely curious, "Is picking through my leftovers really that satisfying? You hoard everything I've ever touched like it's gold. Tell me, Lydia, are you twisted—or just pathetic?" "Hmph. Keep mouthing off," Lydia sneered. "You wanted Grandma's house so bad. Funny—you didn't throw this kind of tantrum when the family shares went to me. But what can you do? After my accident, Mom already promised me the house. The transfer's in three days. A fortune-teller said my fate's weak and full of hardship—I need a heavy heirloom to ground me. So my parents handed it over without blinking. Isn't it hilarious? The place you treasured all these years just dropped into my lap." Claudia's fists clenched tight. She saw it all in an instant—her parents' evasive glances, Wilson's careless slip earlier: "Give it to Lydia." It hadn't been an empty threat. They'd decided long ago.Engagement or not, the house was never going to be hers. Wilson's ultimatum had just been a way to stall her. And she'd actually come tonight with a flicker of hope that they'd honor Grandma's last wish. How stupid. How utterly laughable. Even now, numb as she was, her chest ached. They all knew what that house meant to her. Maybe, to Wilson and Lottie, it didn't matter whose name was on the deed. But to Claudia—anyone could have it. Anyone but Lydia. Her gaze turned cold. Lydia kept running her mouth, bitterness twisting her smile. "We were both her granddaughters. Why did she always favor you? If she wouldn't give it to me, I'll take it. This is all your fault." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a purr, the kind of mock-sympathetic tone that dripped poison. "You say I don't deserve it? Too bad the world doesn't care what you think. People—you can't keep them. Houses—you can't keep those either." A thunderclap went off in Claudia's head. Suddenly she was seventeen again— peach and apricot trees in bloom, cicadas screaming in the heat. She'd come running home with a basket of herbs for Grandma… only to find pills scattered on the floor, her grandmother cold and still— and Lydia standing there, smiling that same cruel, tilted smile. That was the day childhood ended. The day the world went dark."Ah—!" Lydia's gloating turned into a choked gasp. Claudia's hand shot up, locking around her throat, and slammed her back against the car. "Isn't this what you came for?" Claudia's voice was quiet, almost eerily calm. "You poke the bear, then run home and cry for sympathy? I'm not good with words like you, Lydia. But when people come begging for a beating—" her fingers dug in, "—I never hesitate." Her eyes were cold, unblinking, a flicker of madness in the calm. “Murder? That's what I do best. You, of all people, should know that." Lydia's eyes went wide with terror. She'd miscalculated. She never should've come alone. She knew what Grandma meant to Claudia—and she still pushed. She remembered that summer too. Claudia could kill. Panic surged. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe—just clawed helplessly at Claudia's arm. The gated community was dead silent. No one around. Just when Lydia was sure this lunatic was actually going to finish her, Claudia abruptly let go. Then she asked, out of nowhere, "You staged that little crash for me and all I got was a scratch. You and Julie have that dance competition coming up, don't you? Big deal for you, huh?" Dread flooded Lydia's gut. "What are you planning—" A sickening crack. Her head slammed against the car window. The glass spiderwebbed. Blood slid down her cheek as her vision spun. Psycho. She's a psycho."The cameras don't cover this spot, do they?" Claudia asked softly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't dare show me that ugly face." Her fingers brushed the bruises blooming around Lydia's neck. "Sneak out here to 'talk sense' into me, all alone—what's next? You'll go home bruised and bawling, right? Play the victim again? You've worked so hard on your act, Lydia. I'd hate to ruin your momentum." For the first time, Lydia's voice trembled with real fear. "Claudia, aren't you afraid our parents will cut you off for good?" Claudia's expression didn't change. "Does it matter anymore?" Then came the scream. Bone snapped. "It hurts! Oh God, it hurts! Claudia, I'll never forgive you!" By the time the Lancasters got there, Lydia was sprawled in a pool of blood—her calf twisted at an ugly angle, her head bleeding, unconscious. Claudia's car was already gone, engine roaring into the night. Lottie nearly fainted at the sight. Wilson barked orders, and Clarence and Zane scrambled to carry Lydia into the car, rushing to the hospital. Lawless. Out of control. … Claudia's car cut through the darkness like a blade. She'd broken Lydia's leg—but the ice in her chest hadn't melted an inch. That deed had been almost impossible to pry out of Lottie's hands. Once it landed with Lydia, who knew what filthy tricks she'd pull next? Claudia could give up the house. She just couldn't give it to her. But to fight back, you needed leverage.Since she left at eighteen, Claudia hadn't taken a cent from the Lancasters. She'd made her own way, scraped by, built herself from nothing. And next to their money, her savings were pocket change. When it came to affection—parents, brothers—she could never compete with Lydia's tears and doe eyes. Without even realizing it, she'd been backed into a corner. But marry Jasper? Chain herself to those people forever? Never. Her grandmother's love was meant to bless her, not bind her. When she finally blinked back to awareness, she'd been driving four hours. The car rolled to a stop outside her grandmother's courtyard in Altrix City. The little house sat at the base of the mountain—small but solid, rebuilt on her grandfather's old foundation. He'd done it because Grandma loved the view of Willowmere. They'd retired there, spent the rest of their lives together. For them, it had been love. For Claudia, it had been home. It was past three a.m. The night was still. No lights in sight. Claudia stood at the gate, emotion swelling behind her eyes.