2#02
2
"Who does this lipstick belong to?" Leslie inquired.
Denver looked at it, puzzled. "I thought it was yours?"
It wasn't hers.
A disturbing idea entered her thoughts. 'Were they here earlier? Did they share a kiss in my car?'
Her insides churned. She hastily withdrew her hand from his and said bluntly, "I'm exhausted. I don't want to chat. Just concentrate on the road."
Her mind was a whirlwind of rage and anguish, but once it all subsided, nothing remained—only a profound, vacant quietness.
She and Denver were already betrothed. The ceremony was merely a month away.
Invites had already been distributed to relatives and acquaintances. Some attendees had even begun sending presents.
However now... Now, she had to confront the reality that her fiancé was unfaithful. What course of action should she take?
She turned to gaze out the window, deep in contemplation.
Outwardly, Denver always appeared gentle and considerate, but Leslie knew better.
Underneath, he was domineering, the kind of man who wouldn't accept rejection.
If she expressed her desire to cancel the wedding, he'd never concur.
And why should she have to depart like a heartbroken fool?
Why should she be the one to forfeit everything?
A reckless, perilous thought occurred to her: 'I crave vengeance'
Upon arriving home, Kiana had already prepared the evening meal.
As soon as Denver entered, she hurried to position his slippers neatly by the entrance and took his jacket as she always did.
Previously, Leslie hadn't given it much thought. She'd attributed it to sibling affection.
But now, those actions resembled a wife welcoming her spouse home.
Kiana must have sensed Leslie's gaze because she quickly adopted a sweet, innocent expression.
"Leslie, I've made your favorite corn chowder tonight!"
Leslie's mind flashed back to when Denver first brought Kiana home.
That day, she wouldn't stop weeping on his lap and repeatedly calling him "my brother".
For the past half-year, Leslie had felt sympathy for Kiana and had treated her like her own sister.
And now? That so-called sister had been eyeing her fiancé the entire time.
Observing Kiana's artificial, sweet demeanor reignited Leslie's hatred.
She took a seat at the table, her expression cold and unreadable.
Travis, Denver's younger brother, stood nearby and noticed her mood. Frowning, he called her out, "Leslie, Kiana's addressing you. Why are you being so impolite to her?"
Travis was someone Denver had adopted from an orphanage. He was currently in his second year of university.
He and Leslie used to be close like real siblings, but ever since Kiana moved in, he behaved as if his new sister was the only person who mattered.
Denver tapped the table. "Travis, mind your tone when speaking to your soon-to-be sister-in-law."
Muttering under his breath, Travis backed down.
Kiana, naturally, attempted to ease the tension. "Let's not quarrel over this. It's no big deal, besides we're all family here!"
'Family?' Leslie almost chuckled. 'The three of you might be a family, but me? I'm just an outsider.'
Kiana lifted a bowl of soup and offered it to Leslie with a smile.
But Leslie couldn't tolerate the fake kindness anymore. She raised her hand, gently pushing the bowl away.
That's when Kiana's hand suddenly jerked, and the bowl tilted, spilling hot soup all over her hands and attire.
"Ahhh!" she cried out, dramatic enough to swiftly capture everyone's attention.
Travis quickly sprang up. "What's the matter with you, Leslie? If you didn't want it, you could've just said so! Why did you push Kiana?"
Denver immediately grasped Kiana's hands, examining the burns.
His gaze then darted to Leslie, filled with incredulity. "My love, how could you do that?"
He guided Kiana to the sink, running her hands under cold water while Travis scrambled to find burn ointment.
Leslie just sat there, observing the absurd scene like an outsider.
She hadn't pushed the bowl. All she did was lightly block it with her hand.
She hadn't used any force at all. It was impossible for the soup to spill.
Kiana had orchestrated this on purpose!