Revenge of the reborn

Ariana sat in the corner of her expansive living room, a forgotten cup of tea growing cold on the table in front of her. The vibrant paintings and luxurious furniture that once dazzled her now felt like gilded bars of a cage. Her hands clenched tightly on her lap as the familiar sound of laughter echoed through the halls—a sound she'd grown to dread.

The step-sister she had once adored as family now sat in the center of her broken world, her husband Lucas Turner wrapped around her little finger.

"Lucas, do you really think this color suits me?" Sophia's voice floated from the adjoining room, soft and saccharine.

"Of course, Sophia," Lucas replied, his tone warm and indulgent. "You look perfect in anything."

Ariana's heart twisted painfully. His voice had never held that gentleness for her, not even in the early days of their marriage.

Unable to stand the noise, she stood and walked into the room where Lucas and Sophia were seated. Sophia, in a silk dress, perched delicately on the edge of the sofa, holding out her hand for Lucas to admire a new bracelet—a gift Ariana hadn't been consulted on.

Ariana cleared her throat. "Lucas, can we talk?"

Lucas barely glanced at her. "What is it, Ariana? I'm busy."

Busy admiring your mistress, she wanted to scream, but she swallowed the bitterness. "It's important," she said firmly.

Sophia's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned back in her chair. "Oh, Lucas, don't let me interrupt. I'm sure whatever Ariana has to say can wait."

Ariana felt her composure slipping. "It can't wait."

Lucas finally looked at her, irritation plain on his face. "Fine. Five minutes."

Sophia smirked as Ariana led Lucas into the study, closing the door behind them. The moment they were alone, she turned to him, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. "Why do you keep humiliating me in front of her?"

Lucas raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Humiliating you? Don't be ridiculous. Sophia is family. If you're feeling insecure, that's not my problem."

"Insecure?" Ariana's voice rose. "You openly flaunt your affection for her! You buy her gifts, you defend her over me—your wife! How do you think that makes me feel?"

Lucas sighed as if bored. "You're being dramatic. Sophia has been through a lot. She deserves kindness."

"And I don't?" Ariana shot back. "I've been through a lot too, Lucas! I've stood by you, supported you, and yet you treat me like I'm invisible."

Lucas's eyes turned cold. "Enough. I won't stand here and let you accuse me of nonsense. If you can't handle the situation, that's on you."

Ariana felt tears well up, but she refused to let them fall. "This isn't nonsense, Lucas. This is our marriage falling apart."

"Our marriage," he said, his tone mocking. "Maybe if you stopped whining and acted like a proper wife, we wouldn't have these problems."

Ariana flinched as if he'd struck her. Before she could respond, Lucas walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Later that evening, Ariana found herself alone at the dining table. The elaborate meal prepared by the staff remained untouched. She wasn't hungry—not with the weight of Lucas's words and Sophia's ever-present shadow pressing on her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Looking up, she saw Sophia entering the room, a coy smile playing on her lips.

"Is Lucas not joining you?" Sophia asked innocently, though her eyes gleamed with triumph.

Ariana forced a neutral expression. "He's busy."

Sophia chuckled softly. "He does work so hard, doesn't he? I keep telling him he needs to take breaks, but he insists on pushing himself."

Ariana's patience snapped. "Why are you here, Sophia? Haven't you done enough damage for one day?"

Sophia gasped, feigning hurt. "Damage? Ariana, I think you're misunderstanding my intentions. I'm just trying to be supportive. After all, we're family."

"Don't insult me by pretending to care," Ariana said, her voice low and dangerous. "I see what you're doing—playing the innocent victim while driving a wedge between Lucas and me."

Sophia's smile widened, dropping all pretense of innocence. "If Lucas prefers my company, maybe that says more about you than it does about me."

Ariana stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Get out."

Sophia arched an eyebrow but complied, sauntering out of the room. As she left, she tossed a final remark over her shoulder. "You might want to consider why Lucas spends so little time with you. Just a suggestion."

The next morning, Ariana sat by the window in her bedroom, staring out at the sprawling gardens. The vibrant flowers and neatly trimmed hedges felt like a mockery of the chaos inside her. She was pulled from her thoughts by a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," she said wearily.

The door opened to reveal Mrs. Hargrove, the family's longtime housekeeper. The older woman's kind eyes studied Ariana with concern. "Ma'am, you haven't eaten since yesterday. Should I bring you something?"

Ariana shook her head. "I'm fine, Mrs. Hargrove. Thank you."

Mrs. Hargrove hesitated before stepping closer. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but… I've noticed how unhappy you've been lately. Is there anything I can do?"

Ariana's throat tightened. The kindness in Mrs. Hargrove's voice was a stark contrast to the coldness she faced from her husband. "Thank you," she said softly. "But this is something I have to handle myself."

Mrs. Hargrove nodded, her expression sympathetic. "Just remember, ma'am, you're stronger than you think."

After the housekeeper left, Ariana sat back and closed her eyes. Strong. Was she strong enough to endure this? Or was it time to take control of her life, even if it meant stepping into uncharted territory?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Lucas's voice downstairs. She stood and walked to the top of the staircase, listening.

"I don't care how much it costs," Lucas was saying. "Just make sure it's perfect. Sophia deserves the best."

Ariana's chest tightened as she gripped the banister. Whatever Lucas was planning for Sophia, it was clear where his priorities lay—and they weren't with his wife.

That night, as she lay in bed, Ariana stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. For years, she had endured Lucas's neglect and Sophia's manipulations, convincing herself that things would get better. But now, the cracks were too wide to ignore.

"I can't keep living like this," she whispered to herself.

Her thoughts turned to the future—uncertain and frightening, but full of possibilities. If Lucas and Sophia thought they could continue to control her, they were wrong. Ariana was done playing the victim.

For the first time in years, she felt a spark of hope. It was faint, but it was enough to keep her going.

"I'll find a way," she vowed quietly. "I'll find a way to take back my life."