My Stepsister Sold My Luxuries, So I Sued Her in Court!

My stepmother and stepsister took my designer things to resell, and in the end their greed reached all the way to my mother's keepsakes.

Furious, I took the two of them to court, laid out the evidence, and made sure they'd rot behind bars.

My husband, in the middle of an important summit overseas, heard about it, and the man who had never once bent his own rules for anyone dropped everything, left the executives behind, and flew home.

He hired the best lawyers to overturn the case for my stepsister and her mother, and even claimed that all those designer things were bought by him, so if my stepsister could use them, so could I.

Slapped in the face in front of everyone, I said the word divorce.

That was when my husband finally panicked. He left my stepsister and came chasing after me to smooth things over.

"Come on, honey, don't be angry anymore."

"Whatever Gwyneth Cooley took from you is all secondhand to you anyway. I only helped her because I didn't want outsiders calling you cruel and vicious, didn't want people talking behind your back."

To show he was sorry, he took me to the most luxurious mall in the city and booked out three whole floors of designer counters so I could buy whatever I wanted.

"Honey, those few pieces of clothing and jewelry are lovely. Only someone as elegant and refined as you could carry them off."

Right then, he had the staff snip off the tags so I could go in and try them on.

But when I came out from the fitting room, he was gone.

I waited until the store was nearly closing, and still he didn't come back.

With no other choice, I got ready to pull out a card and pay.

Only to find that the cards inside my bag were gone.

"Ma'am, will you be paying by card or by phone?"

I spent more than ten minutes reaching for a card. No, to be exact, I stood there frozen for ten minutes.

I remembered putting several different cards in my bag before I left the house. Why were they all gone?

The one who was supposed to be paying was Albert Farley, and he was nowhere to be found.

I made a full hundred calls, and every one sank without a trace.

Right now it felt like a mountain of stone was pressed against my chest. It sat wrong in me.

The saleswoman was the kind who read the room. From the earlier bowing and flattering, she'd moved on to rolling her eyes.

"Ma'am, our store has already stayed open past closing for you."

"Past closing is the least of it! There's also the money you said, with your own mouth, for booking out three floors. That still hasn't been paid."

Manager Lambert, the man in charge of the mall, came in with a good number of security guards.

They sealed off every exit, as if afraid I'd seize the chance to run.

I couldn't help but feel contempt. I, Belinda Cooley, had been born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Whatever I wanted, I got.

Why would I ever run from a debt like some pauper?

But the person who'd announced she was booking three floors really was me. Albert wanted to give me the standing to do it, wanted me to declare it in front of everyone so he could show what a doting husband he was.

And now? Now I couldn't even find Albert.

I set down my bag and stood up, lifting my head to meet the impatient stares of the saleswoman and Manager Lambert.

"Watch how you speak to me. I'm not skipping out on a bill."

"By phone!"

But when I got to the counter to pay, the transfer wouldn't go through.

I froze, tried again a few times, and got the same result every time.

The account linked to my phone was tied to Albert's card, and now the card was frozen.

The saleswoman didn't bother being polite. Her face fell flat as she said, "Ma'am, so what do we do now?"

"You cut the tags off three seasonal outfits worth forty million, and now your card's gone and your phone won't pay either."

"What are you going to use to make good on it?"

"Plus the money for booking out three floors, that's fifty million total."

"You're the wife of Mr. Farley, the richest man in New York. You can't manage a little money like this?"

The words had barely left his mouth when a shrill burst of cheering rose from downstairs.

"Wow, Miss Cooley is so lucky! Mr. Farley gave her a full thirty million in jewelry."

"Oh my God! This is the kind of thing I only dream about. I never thought it could happen for real."

Woven through that grating noise was Gwyneth's smug voice.

"Albert said he couldn't stand seeing me always wearing the junk my sister throws away, so he felt bad and gave me such beautiful jewelry."

"Oh my God, so Gwyneth's had it that hard."

"She's a stepdaughter, but she's still a Cooley heiress! And she's stuck using Belinda Cooley's castoffs."

"Sounds like Belinda Cooley's been throwing her weight around, keeping her down at every turn."

Right on cue, Gwyneth put on that wounded look, the one that said she had so much she couldn't bring herself to say, and it only made the outsiders more certain that everything they'd just said was true.

My hand curled into a fist before I knew it. I started for the stairs, only for Manager Lambert to block my way.

"Mrs. Farley, you haven't paid your bill yet! Where do you think you're going?"

"Manager Lambert, don't worry."

"I'm not trying to run off. I'm going downstairs to get my husband so he can settle the bill."

"You can't just block me here. That solves nothing."

Manager Lambert thought it over, then finally dropped his arm and followed me, trailing me all the way down to the next floor.

Even from a distance, I saw Albert lift a ruby bracelet and, with the gentlest motion, fasten it around Gwyneth's pale wrist.

The onlookers beside them couldn't help sighing in envy.

"Gwyneth, is there anything else you want to buy?"

"No, this is plenty."

"I don't want too much luxury. It breeds arrogance in a person."

"God, Gwyneth is so sensible!"

"Anyone else would've just kept buying and buying."

Watching it, something in me went cold.

Gwyneth was still my stepsister, yet Albert was trying on jewelry with her in that intimate, suggestive way, right out in the open.

The moment I walked over, the voices around us fell abruptly silent.

"That's Mrs. Farley."

"Don't say anything. She's petty as they come."

Albert didn't turn to look at me. He stayed focused on fastening the clasp for Gwyneth.

Gwyneth suddenly shivered and pushed Albert away, putting on a frightened, uneasy face.

"Sister!"

Albert's face darkened at once.

"If you had any sense of propriety, you'd know to keep a proper distance from your sister's husband, no matter the time or place."

"Not wait until I show up to understand it."

My voice dropped a degree too, and I turned to look at Albert.

"Weren't we agreed that you'd apologize to me, book out three floors of counters, and let me take my pick of the luxuries? So why did you bring her here?"

The air went taut as a drawn bow, and no one around us dared make a sound.

Albert didn't answer my question right away. Instead he reached out and took Gwyneth's hand.

As if to give her all the backing she needed, enough that she wouldn't have to fear me.

"Belinda, I'm not one of your Cooleys."

"I'd advise you to watch your tone when you speak to me. Be more polite."

"After all, your Cooley family only survives because of me."

Someone couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. It was aimed at me.

"What's this?"

His sudden coldness caught me off guard.

"Nothing. I just wanted you to get a taste of what it feels like to be accused of stealing luxuries."

My pupils gave a violent shudder, and a wave of unease rose in my chest.

From coming with me to the mall, to my cards vanishing, to his disappearing act right when I needed him.

To avenge Gwyneth, he'd set out to spitefully turn all of it on me.

I frowned, at a loss, and held his gaze.

He only laughed easily. "Looking at me like that won't change anything."

"Wasn't it you who wanted three floors booked and the tags cut off?"

"Since you did it, you're the one who pays."

The moment he finished, the people around us let out a breath.

"No need to panic, everyone. Turns out Mr. Farley doesn't love her the way the rumors say."

"Tsk, as arrogant and rude as she is, I wouldn't dare marry her either, if I were a man."

"If he treats Mr. Farley this way, he'll treat her stepsister even worse."

The strangers' words fell into Albert's ears, and no doubt they only made him pity Gwyneth more.

Right then, Gwyneth pulled her hand free of Albert's, walked straight over, and slapped me across the face.

"Sister, I was always so afraid of you. But to get justice for my mother, I've decided to teach you a lesson."