HIS PROPERTY, HIS CHOICE

WILLIAM (Kimberley's father)

This company is my legacy.

I built it from nothing.

From a struggling middle-class worker to one of the powerful businessmen in the country. Every decision, every deal, every sleepless night had been for one thing… power.

And I wasn't going to lose it now.

Not because of my daughter's stubbornness.

Not because of my wife's weakness.

And certainly not because of Emily's stupidity.

I leaned back in my leather chair, staring out of my office window, watching the city lights flicker like a reminder of my control.

Until my phone buzzed.

Margaret.

Damn it.

I ignored it.

Then it rang again.

And again.

I sighed, picking up. "What?"

"William." Her voice was shaking. "You need to come home. Now."

I frowned. "What is it?"

"It's Emily. She… she…"

Then, through the phone, I heard the sharp wail of sirens.

And my blood ran cold.

EMILY (Kimberley stepsister)

I didn't mean to kill him.

I swear to God, I didn't.

One second, we were arguing.

Next, I was holding a bloody lamp and he was on the floor not moving.

My boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend.

Whatever the hell he was supposed to be.

I stared at his lifeless body, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst.

"Get up," I whispered. My hands were shaking. "Jason, get the hell up!"

Nothing.

The silence stretched, and reality hit me like a truck.

He was dead.

I killed him.

I felt my throat close up. My legs weakened.

Then I did the only thing I could.

I ran.

Out of the apartment. Down the hallway.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

My hands were covered in blood. My mind was spinning.

MARGARET ( Emily's mother, Kimberley Stepmom)

The police were at our door.

Lights flashing. Officers standing with stern expressions.

I couldn't breathe.

My daughter. My Emily.

"Mrs. Laurent," one of them said, voice clipped and professional. "Where is your daughter?"

I choked on a sob.

"She.. she didn't mean to!" I gasped.

My hands were shaking. Tears streamed down my face. "She's just a girl! Please! She didn't mean to!"

The officer's expression didn't change.

"Mrs. Laurent, Jason Miller is dead. Your daughter is wanted for murder. Now, where is she?"

I felt my knees give out.

William caught me.

His grip was tight. Cold.

I turned to him, desperate. "You have to fix this. You have to!"

His jaw clenched. "I will."

And I knew exactly what he was thinking.

There was only one man who could make this go away.

Alexander Silver.

But the cost…

I turned to Kimberley.

She looked furious.

And for the first time, I was terrified of what she would say.

KIMBERLEY 

They wanted me to beg him.

To go to Alexander, drop to my knees, and ask him to clean up Emily's mess.

Like some desperate, helpless woman.

Like I owed him.

Like I was his.

No.

I wouldn't.

I couldn't.

Emily stood there, shaking. Her hands still had bloodstains.

I swallowed back the disgust.

At her.

At myself.

In this entire situation.

"I won't ask him," I said flatly.

Margaret gasped. "Kimberley! You…"

"I won't," I repeated. "I won't owe him anything, because he will definitely ask for something in return."

William's eyes narrowed. "Kimberley, this is not about you. Your sister will go to prison."

I crossed my arms. "Maybe she should."

Emily whimpered. "Kim, please…"

I shot her a glare.

She flinched.

And for a second, I thought maybe she actually felt guilty.

Then she sniffled, eyes wide with fake innocence. "You don't understand. It was an accident!"

I scoffed. "Oh? You 'accidentally' broke a guy's head open?"

She trembled. "I was angry…"

"You always are."

Her lip wobbled. "Please, Kim… I don't want to go to prison."

I looked at her.

At my crying mother.

At my stone-cold father.

And I hated that I even had to consider this.

If I asked Alexander, he would help.

He could make the charges disappear.

But I knew him.

He wouldn't do it for free.

And I couldn't afford to be in his debt.

Not when I was still fighting to keep myself together.

"I need to think," I muttered, turning away.

Margaret screamed. "There is no time to THINK, Kimberley!"

William stepped forward. "You don't have a choice, daughter."

I laughed bitterly. "Oh? Watch me."

Then I walked away.

Leaving my family in chaos.

Leaving my sister to cry.

Leaving my mother to beg.

And knowing, deep down, that no matter how much I hated it…

I was running out of options.

I could still hear them arguing as I walked away. Their voices rose and fell, desperate, angry, demanding.

I didn't stop.

I didn't turn back.

Because if I did, if I looked into Emily's red, swollen eyes or saw my mother clutching her chest like her heart was being ripped out, I might break.

And I couldn't afford to break.

Not now.

Not when they expected me to go crawling to Alexander.

I marched up the grand staircase, my heels clicking against the marble, my breath shallow and uneven.

The truth was suffocating me.

Emily had killed someone.

And the only way to get her out of this mess was to ask him for help.

A man who enjoyed holding power over me.

A man who would use this as leverage.

A man who had already made it clear that I belonged to him.

I reached my bedroom, shutting the door behind me, pressing my forehead against the wood.

Think, Kimberley. Think.

I could do this on my own.

I could find another way.

I could….

A loud knock on my door cut off my thoughts.

"Kimberley."

My father's voice was firm. Unyielding.

I clenched my jaw, knowing I couldn't ignore him.

I turned the handle, pulling the door open.

William Laurent stood there, his face carved from stone.

He looked calm, too calm. But I knew him.

Behind that mask of composure was a storm waiting to unleash itself.

"Let's talk," he said.

I didn't move. "I have nothing to say."

His eyes hardened. "Then listen."

WILLIAM

I had raised two daughters.

 One was reckless, selfish, impulsive.

The other was weak, selfless, and petite.

And right now, I need the weak one.

"Sit," I told Kimberley.

She stood by the window, arms crossed, defiance written all over her face. "I prefer to stand."

I sighed. "You're acting like a child."

She let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, should I be grateful that my dear sister killed someone and now you're asking me to sell myself to get her out of it?"

I leaned forward, resting my hands on my knees. "I am asking you to do what's necessary."

Her eyes flared with anger. "Of course you are."

I stared at her. "I made sacrifices for this family, Kimberley."

She lifted her chin. "And now you want me to make one?"

"Yes." I didn't bother sugarcoating it.

She exhaled shakily, looking away.

That was the first sign of weakness.

The first crack in her armor.

I pressed forward. "Emily will go to prison, and your mother will break if that happens. Is that what you want?"

Kimberley swallowed.

I knew I had her.

I always did.

Because no matter how much she fought me, she was still a Laurent.

And Laurent's didn't let their own fall.

"Fine," she whispered, voice barely audible. "I'll do it."

Relief flooded through me.

But then she turned to me, eyes blazing.

"But I will never forgive you for this."

Tears slipped down Margaret's cheeks as she turned to me.

"Do you think he'll help her?" she whispered.

My jaw tightened. "Alexander will help."