Chapter 3 Severing Family Ties and Breaking Up

Victor finally snapped. "You're not a child anymore. Can you drop the theatrics? Have you even thought about how you're going to live if you walk out of here — or what people will say when word gets out?"

The contempt in Cecilia's eyes was barely contained.

She studied Victor — the man who had always prided himself on being fair.

In her previous life, he had been the first Windsor to reach out to her. He had promised her, hand on heart, that the Windsor family would always be her safe harbor. That no matter what, she and Ivy would be treated equally.

She had believed him.

And what had that gotten her?

Victor, siding with Ivy again and again. Every time Cecilia had pushed back — every time she'd dared to defend herself — he had been the first to turn on her.

"I survived before the Windsors," she said, her smile carrying a sharp edge. "I'll survive after. And as for what people will say?" She tilted her head. "You've never even told anyone I exist."

The words hit the room like an open-handed slap.

A DNA test had confirmed it — she was Theo and Teresa's biological daughter. That was why they'd brought her home. But they had never made a public announcement, never acknowledged her to the outside world. The reason they'd given: they didn't want Ivy to feel uncomfortable. The secret had held. To this day, no one outside this house knew the truth.

Teresa stared at her, stunned. "You're blaming us for that?"

"I just think you're all disgusting," Cecilia said flatly. "I want nothing more to do with any of you. I've said everything I needed to say. If anyone tries to come at me again with the family card, don't expect me to play nice."

She walked out without looking back.

She didn't care what the Windsors thought anymore. All she cared about was what was hers — and keeping it.

She had barely cleared the front gate when she ran straight into someone.

Her expression went cold.

Charles Green.

Her boyfriend.

They'd been together since college. They had a plan — once she won the Grand Slam, they'd get married. It had seemed simple. It had seemed certain.

Then he met Ivy, and everything changed.

After that, he was always asking about her — slipping Ivy's name into conversations, finding reasons to bring her up. Whenever Cecilia clashed with the Windsors, Charles took their side without fail, telling her she was being difficult. And then came the accident — the one where both she and Ivy were hurt, and Cecilia was the one who had it worse. Charles hadn't hesitated for a second. He'd picked Ivy up and rushed her to the hospital and left Cecilia where she lay.

Her gaze hardened as the memories settled over her.

Every person she had loved in her last life had betrayed her.

Charles hadn't noticed the shift in her yet. He asked, almost casually, "Did you give up your spot? I've been thinking — you've already competed so many times. Taking a break wouldn't be the worst thing."

Cecilia looked at him. "You know exactly what the WTA tournament means to me. How are you even asking that?"

Something flickered across his face — surprise, quickly buried. "I'm just worried about the pressure. It's a month of back-to-back matches, all on camera. That's brutal."

He softened his voice. "I know how hard you've worked to get here. I've watched you push through so much, and honestly, it kills me. That's why I think stepping back for a little while might actually be good for you."

Cecilia almost laughed.

There it was. His move, same as always — wrapping control in the language of care. If she didn't do what he wanted, she was ungrateful. If she pushed back, she was being unreasonable.

She kept her eyes on him. "Is this actually about my health? Or are you worried Ivy won't get my spot if I don't hand it over?"

His face went through three things in quick succession: caught off guard, embarrassed, then angry.

"What's that supposed to mean? Since when is caring about you a crime?"

"If you actually cared," Cecilia said, "you would never ask me to give up this tournament. I have been training since I was a junior player. I have never stopped. This is what all of it was for."

He blinked at her, thrown. Then: "What is going on with you today? The intensity at that level — what if your body can't handle it? What if you come out of this with a serious injury? That would end your career, Cecilia. Is that what you want?"

He reached for her hand. "Let's find something smaller. Less pressure. Something that won't break you."

She stepped back. Two clean steps, putting distance between them.

"I don't need your concern," she said. "And I'm done letting you use it as cover to hurt me. We're over."

She said it quietly. No drama.

Charles stared at her like she'd just said something in a language he didn't speak. "You're breaking up with me over this? I didn't do anything wrong. I was looking out for you."

"Stop making excuses," Cecilia said. "You came here because you were afraid Ivy couldn't get my spot on her own, so you came to talk me into quitting."

She took out her phone, opened his contact, and deleted it while he watched.

"That wasn't a conversation. It was a notification. We're done. Stay out of my life."

She left.

She had just walked away from her family and broken up with her boyfriend in the same afternoon. Anyone looking in from the outside would think she'd lost her mind — that she was acting out, making scenes, chasing attention.

But she had never felt lighter.

No one could stop her now.

With her tournament earnings, Cecilia rented a small apartment in an older complex nearby. She made a quick run to the nearest grocery store, grabbed the basics, and by the time she got back, the sky had gone dark.

She unpacked, put everything away, showered, and got into bed.

She was asleep before her head fully hit the pillow.

The next morning, she had barely gotten up when her phone went off.

Her agent.

She picked up.

"Cecilia — it's bad." The voice on the other end was rushed, tense. "Every single sportswear endorsement we had in the pipeline has been pulled. All of them. And the magazine — they've taken your cover down too."