Chapter 39

Seated at the table, Julian quietly observed Edward's rigid expression. A single glance was enough; he understood. His brooding eyes darkened, an icy hue intensifying as his lips curled into a subtle, unreadable smirk. "Looks like Rosalie must have dug something up," he thought. "That would explain her different behavior today compared to the rumors."

His gaze shifted back to Rosalie, observing her closely. Unexpectedly, she didn't press the issue. Instead, she took the chair Helena had vacated, meticulously wiping it down with a napkin before sitting. Lifting her gaze, Rosalie met Helena's eyes with a half-smile, making no effort to conceal the disdain and mockery in her expression. Her voice, though calm, was laced with unmistakable derision.

"You're only Dad's stepdaughter," Rosalie said leisurely. "There's a difference between that and being born into the family. When you're under someone else's roof, you'd do well to keep your head down and know your place. Don't ever forget where you actually stand. Got it?"

Her words were spoken lightly, her tone almost playful, but each syllable struck Helena's heart like a crushing blow. The weight was suffocating, the sharpness seeming to slice through her. Helena's chest tightened painfully, rage twisting within her.

Helena thought bitterly, "Why? Why do I have to keep hiding my identity and swallowing my pride after all these years? I'm Dad's daughter too. So why does Rosalie get to do whatever she pleases while I don't even have the right to fight back?"

Her breathing grew uneven, her eyes burning with unspoken fury as she glared at Rosalie's mocking smirk. "I can't accept this. And I won't," Helena thought, her rage boiling over. "I refuse to let this go."

Her hands clutched her chest, searing pain spreading like wildfire. Her complexion paled, her body swaying precariously, barely able to remain standing.