Chapter 1 Which Feels Better, Wife or Sister

In the middle of the night, Harper Mellon got up only to find her husband embracing her stepsister, comforting her with tender words.

Rupert Getty, who was usually cold and impatient with Harper, now showed infinite patience. "Irene, this isn't your fault. The real culprit is Harper! She ruined both our lives! If it weren't for her, you would be my wife right now."

His voice trembled with barely controlled anger as he spoke those last words.

Irene Getty nodded shyly, looking wounded as she tugged at his sleeve. "Rupert, I regret not being able to marry you too, but what's done is done. I'm just worried that my son and I moving in might upset your wife?"

Rupert's gaze turned even icier. "She doesn't get to make those decisions."

Harper's fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white, the pain in her chest making it hard to breathe.

She had explained Irene's marriage situation so many times, yet Rupert still believed Harper had orchestrated everything—that she'd somehow engineered his beloved stepsister's pregnancy and subsequent marriage to that worthless man!

She bit her lip hard as she watched Irene rise to her tiptoes, the two of them gazing at each other with undisguised longing, the atmosphere thick with intimacy.

Seeing they were about to kiss, she finally broke her silence.

"What exactly are you doing?"

The living room lights blazed on.

Rupert instinctively pushed Irene away, then immediately questioned why he should feel guilty. Harper was nothing more than his arranged marriage wife, after all.

He frowned with displeasure. "Why aren't you in bed? What are you doing sneaking around this late?"

Harper's lips curled with mockery. "If I hadn't spoken up, you two would've been kissing, wouldn't you?"

"Shut up!" A flash of guilt crossed Rupert's face before he lashed out. "Harper! I'm warning you to watch your mouth. Irene just arrived at the Getty home, and I was simply comforting her."

Harper found his excuse laughable. "Does comforting your stepsister require holding her in your arms? Don't forget, you're a married man."

If she hadn't interrupted, who knew what these two might have done next?

Did they think she didn't exist? Brazenly carrying on in the living room!

Rupert's voice turned to ice. "Harper, don't push it! If it weren't for you, would Irene have married that abusive bastard? Would she have suffered domestic violence?"

As he spoke, he pulled up Irene's sleeve, revealing large purple bruises.

"Irene's been beaten black and blue. What's wrong with me comforting her? And you come in here with that accusatory tone and those judgmental eyes—what exactly are you implying?"

Irene quickly pulled her arm back, her voice timid. "Rupert, don't be angry with Harper. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have come back. I'll take my son Jared Carter and leave right away."

She made to go, but Rupert stopped her with a tone that brooked no argument. "This has nothing to do with you. You're staying right here. Harper's being unreasonable—just ignore her."

Harper stood frozen. She was being unreasonable? Was she supposed to watch Rupert and Irene kiss and offer her blessings with a smile?

The tenderness in Rupert's eyes when he looked at Irene nearly blinded her with pain—the special treatment she had desperately sought for years but never received.

She had always believed that with enough patience and devotion, she could melt Rupert's icy heart.

But at this moment, she realized all his love belonged to Irene, despite her being his stepsister!

Harper had never felt such agony in her chest before, as if an invisible knife was repeatedly stabbing her heart.

She had loved him for ten years, given him everything, only to be called "unreasonable"!

Tears glistened in Irene's eyes as she spoke with emotion, "You're all I have to rely on."

Before Harper could respond, the door to the adjacent room suddenly burst open.

A small boy rushed out, headbutting Harper directly in the stomach.

"Bad woman! Don't you dare bully my mom!"

Completely unprepared, Harper took the full impact and fell hard on her back.

"Jared!" Irene called out anxiously, immediately running to scoop up her fallen son.

"Jared, let mommy check if you're hurt!"

Harper sucked in a painful breath, lacking even the strength to get up.

Rupert rushed over too.

Just when Harper thought Rupert was coming to help her up, she received only his merciless scolding.

"Harper, how long are you going to keep up this act? A three-year-old knocked you down?"

Her outstretched hand froze in mid-air.

Even strangers would help someone who had fallen and ask if they were okay. But Rupert couldn't see her pain—instead, he accused her of playacting.

A chill spread from the soles of her feet, freezing her heart.

After his cold words to Harper, Rupert turned to comfort Irene with gentle tones.

"Irene, if you're worried about Jared, I'll have the family doctor come check him right away."

Harper stared in disbelief. "He ran into me. Isn't that his responsibility?"

She struggled to her feet, her ribs feeling like they might shatter.

But worse than the physical pain was the agony in her heart.

Under normal circumstances, Jared couldn't have knocked her down, but what if she was already injured? What if Jared had hit exactly where she was hurt?

Three months ago, Rupert had been targeted by a business rival who tried to run him over.

She had pushed Rupert out of the way, resulting in her being hit by the car and hospitalized.

She'd only been discharged a week ago, and on that day, Rupert had been busy picking up Irene and her son.

Now he seemed to have completely forgotten about it.

Instead, he pushed all the blame onto her again.

"Aren't you too old to be picking fights with a child?"

Rupert left her with those impatient words as he took Jared from Irene's arms.

"Jared, it's late. Shall we go back to bed?"

Jared naturally wrapped his arms around Rupert's neck. "Only if you both stay with me. I want Mommy to tell me a story."

"Of course, what would Jared like to hear? Mommy will tell you anything," Irene said with a smile.

From every angle, they looked exactly like a loving family.

Parents in love, child adorable.

Only Harper stood alone, watching as the bedroom door closed.

A bitter, painful smile crossed her lips.

From beginning to end, not a single person had shown concern for her condition.

What was she?

An outsider disrupting this harmonious family?

But she was Rupert's wife.

Harper tilted her head back, her eyes feeling as if they'd been filled with sand, grinding painfully.

She could hear the laughter from the bedroom while she stood alone in the living room. Even though she was in obvious pain, Rupert hadn't spared her a single word of concern.

All the years of humiliation and hardship following in Rupert's shadow came rushing back.

She suddenly felt like a joke. A complete and utter joke.

Harper slowly returned to the room, found two Tylenol painkillers, swallowed them, and then barely fell asleep.

The next day, Harper forced herself to go to work despite her condition.

With Rupert now focusing all his attention on Irene, all the complex business matters fell to Harper.

After a full day's work, Harper was dizzy and exhausted, not even having had time for lunch.

As she massaged her temples, her phone suddenly rang.

It was Rupert's friend.

"Harper, Rupert's had too much to drink. We're at the bar. You should come pick him up."

"I'll be right there."

After hanging up, Harper grabbed her car keys and rushed to the bar.

When she reached the private room where Rupert was, she paused outside the door, hearing raucous laughter.

"Rupert, you lucky dog! A wife at home and a hot stepsister too—living the dream! Tell us honestly, which one do you prefer? The wife or the stepsister? Which one gives you more satisfaction?"

Harper instinctively stopped, holding her breath.