The Sister's Vicious Slap

The cold night breeze did little to soothe Sylvie as she walked out of the elite neighborhood. She pulled her thin jacket tighter against the chill, her mind still racing. Julian’s arrogant, self-righteous assumptions about her lingered, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The man was incredibly narcissistic. How could anyone be so blind and full of himself? He had actually threatened to sue her for sexual harassment because she happened to look like her sister. If he were a detective, innocent people would be filling up the jail cells daily.

But before she could fully process her frustration, a familiar voice shattered the quiet night.

"Sylvie! It’s actually you!"

Sylvie stopped in her tracks and looked up. Giselle stepped out from behind the large marble fountain.

Her sister’s usual elegant and pampered demeanor was gone, replaced by shock and a hint of raw savagery. She was supposed to be buying wine, but she wasn't even coming from the direction of the supermarket.

"Giselle?" Sylvie blinked, caught off guard. "Why are you here?"

Before Sylvie could even react to her sister's sudden appearance, Giselle delivered a tight slap across her face.

The force of the unexpected blow sent Sylvie sprawling to the hard concrete ground. Her hands scraped against the rough pavement, and her cheek began to burn. A clear, angry red handprint formed on her fair skin.

"Sister?!" Giselle spat, her eyes blazing as she stared down at Sylvie. "You still know how to address me as your sister?"

She took a sharp step forward, her chest heaving with rage. "What did you promise me years ago? You swore you would stay away! Yet here you are, coming all the way here to seduce Julian? What did the two of you do inside his house just now? Were you trying to destroy my happiness so you could get married to him instead? How can you be so evil? I am your sister!"

Sylvie sat on the cold ground for a moment, her head spinning from the impact. The sting on her cheek was sharp, but the anger rising in her chest was sharper. She slowly stood up, brushing the dirt off her scraped knees, and met Giselle’s furious gaze.

"I only came over to deliver a takeout order," Sylvie said, her voice steady despite the tremor of adrenaline. "I didn't know Julian was the one who placed it, and he mistook me for you the second I walked through the door. Nothing happened between us. The only reason I hid was because I didn't want you to misunderstand."

She took a step closer to her sister, refusing to let her see any fear. "If I really harbored any wrong intentions towards him, why would I possibly hide for three years? Why would I keep myself out of your lives?"

Caught off guard by the undeniable truth, Giselle’s face stiffened. Her eyes darted around, searching for a counterargument, but she found none. For three years, Sylvie had indeed remained hidden. This meeting had to be a pure coincidence.

But to Giselle, Sylvie’s mere existence was a constant threat. She could never feel safe as long as they shared the same face.

"I've been hiding for three years because of you," Sylvie continued, her voice heavy with disbelief and hurt. "And you actually hit me because of him? I treat you like a sister, but who do you view me as? A pest? A mistake?"

Giselle’s mouth twitched. She did view Sylvie as a permanent thorn in her side, a nuisance she wished would disappear. But she couldn't say that out loud. She forced her twitching lips into a rigid, artificial smile, trying to mask her deep-seated resentment.

"Of course I treat you like my younger sister, Sylvie," Giselle said, her voice dripping with fake warmth. "I misunderstood just now. I was just so worried. But you have to understand, your appearance easily arouses Julian's suspicion. If he sees you again, there will be irreparable consequences. You wouldn't want to destroy my life and cause me grief, would you?"

Sylvie remained silent, staring at her sister's acting with disgust.

Giselle cleared her throat, realizing she needed to push harder. "So, can you leave the city first? Julian is going on a three-month business trip to Arinthia tomorrow. Just leave for three months while he is away."

Seeing that Sylvie wasn't moving, Giselle added a cold, manipulative blow. "Do this on the account that I have been paying for your grandmother’s medical bills all these years. You owe me that much, don't you?"

At the end of the day, her sister cared only about keeping her wealthy, powerful man.

Sylvie smiled coldly, refusing to let Giselle control her life any longer. "My grandmother is currently in the hospital here, and I have lived in this city for twenty-two years. I am never leaving this place. However, you don't have to worry. I will never appear in front of that blind man, nor will I get involved with him in any way!"

Why would she want a cold, unfeeling man who couldn't even recognize the woman he slept with? He wasn't her type at all. A gentle, warm, and caring partner would be far better than a frozen block of ice like Julian.

Turning to walk away, Sylvie paused and threw one last remark over her shoulder.

"By the way, sister, the derailment of a train is not dependent on the track, nor is it related to the scenery outside. The problem lies with the train itself. There is no direct relationship between your happiness and whether I leave or not. If your relationship is that fragile, you should look at your man, not me."

With that, Sylvie turned her back and walked into the darkness of the street, leaving her sister standing alone under the cold streetlamp.

Giselle stood frozen, her face draining of all color. The humiliation and fury burned like acid in her chest. How dare that girl speak to her in that mocking tone!

The anger in her chest boiled over as she remembered how Julian had lied to her tonight. He had claimed he was alone in the villa, but he was actually covering for Sylvie. They had already shared a secret.

A dark, wicked resolve settled over Giselle. Sylvie simply could not be allowed to stay in this city. She was a ticking time bomb, and if Julian ever discovered the truth of what happened years ago, Giselle's entire life would be ruined.

Pulling her cell phone out of her bag, Giselle dialed a number with trembling, angry fingers.

The phone rang several times before a tired, coarse voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Sylvie’s foster mother?" Giselle asked, her voice turning cold and sharp. "I’m her sister. I heard you are struggling financially lately and drowning in debt."

Muriel Higgins froze on the other end of the line, her tone becoming cautious. "Who is this? What do you want?"

"I want to help you," Giselle said, a cruel, calculating smile stretching across her face. "Why don’t you do something for me, and I will give you one hundred thousand dollars when it’s done?"

"One hundred thousand dollars?" Muriel’s voice gasped, greed replacing her caution. "What do you need me to do?"

"It’s nothing major," Giselle whispered, her eyes narrowing in the darkness. "It’s just that Sylvie is old enough now, and it is time for her to get married. That guy, Clive Garrick, in your country isn’t bad at all. Do you know what I mean?"

Clive Garrick was notorious for his cruelty, a dangerous man who ruined every woman he touched. Sending Sylvie to him would be a death sentence, but Muriel didn't care about Sylvie's well-being.

"I understand," Muriel said, a cold chuckle escaping her lips. "Leave it to me. I'll make sure the marriage happens."

Giselle hung up the phone, a dark, satisfied feeling washing over her. Sylvie thought she was so clever, but she would soon find out what happened to those who dared to threaten Giselle's happiness.