Twenty-Five Years of Betrayal, so I Ruined Them

For twenty-five years, I have been nothing but a ghost inside my own house. On my 50th birthday, I wanted to believe that my family still cares for me, so when I found the tickets to a Caribbean cruise on my husband’s desk, my heart almost burst because he remembered. Only that I was wrong.

“This isn’t for you. This is for Beatrice. She earned it. She closed the deal with the investors. This is my reward to her. She deserves this trip. Not you.”

Beatrice. My stepsister. The woman my father had loved more than me. The woman who had taken everything I wanted in life, even now. His mistress.