Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Geneva’s voice was sharp, like she was spitting facts at a bar fight. “Let’s get one thing straight. First, I didn’t shove Tabitha out the door when she bailed
on her wedding.
“Second, all that ‘woe is me‘ bullshit she supposedly went through abroad? Not my circus, not my monkeys.
And she wasn’t exactly slumming it. She hooked up with Harrison Fox, that lovestruck dope who practically worshipped the ground she walked on.
“Third,” she added. “her getting pregnant before the ring? Yeah, I didn’t sign up for that drama.
“And last, marrying Stan Wheeler? That was your genius plan, not mine. You dumped your table scraps on me, so don’t whine about me owing her a damn thing.”
Stan’s face went dark, like a storm cloud ready to burst, at being called “scraps.”
In the novel, he was a loose cannon–charming as hell to Tabitha, the untouchable heroine, but a straight–up asshole to everyone else.
For five years, he and Geneva lived like they were on different planets, and he treated her like gum stuck to his shoe.
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But now, this nobody he’d laughed off had the guts to roast him to his face. With his vindictive, attitude, he was already plotting how to make her pay.
Geneva caught the ice in his stare but didn’t flinch. “You needed a warm body, so you threw me into this trainwreck without a single care about what I wanted. Now you’re over it, and you think you can just boot me out like trash? That’s your idea of mom and dad of the year?”
To the story’s golden couple, Rocky and Salena were parent goals–loving, supportive, picture–perfect.
But through Geneva’s eyes? They were shameless, playing favorites like it was their side hustle.
When Salena had Geneva, her husband was off screwing some homewrecker who had the balls to show up and rub it in her face during labor. The stress made the birth a living nightmare, and Salena pinned the blame on her firstborn forever.
But Tabitha? She arrived when the Motley cash was flowing and her husband had crawled back. Tabitha was her darling, her showpiece.
Tabitha was the kid every parent dreamed of–bright, charming, and stacked with talents that had people eating out of her hand. She was the daughter one trotted out to make everyone else jealous.
Geneva, though? She was quiet, tripped over her words, and her report cards were nothing to brag about. A nobody who blended into the walls.
So, Salena funneled all her love into Tabitha and treated Geneva like she was just taking up space. Rocky went along for the ride, barely sparing his older daughter a nod.
To the world, the Motleys had one kid: the dazzling Tabitha. Geneva was a phantom in her own house.
The original Geneva didn’t give a rat’s ass about Stan–she wasn’t mooning over him.
All she ever wanted was a scrap of love from her parents and sister. But they were the ones who carved her up, leaving her thinking she was broken, that she’d never be enough.
The real Geneva was too lost in her hurt to see the big picture. But this Geneva, a stranger wearing her skin, saw it all in high–def.
Her parents called her a downer but never tossed her a lifeline.
They bitched about her having no sparkle but didn’t cough up for a single class. They wanted her to be as shiny and perfect as Tabitha, even while they ghosted her and gave her the silent treatment.
If she didn’t make the cut, it was her screw up, not theirs.
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Chapter 2
And Tabitha’s big escape act? Geneva wasn’t swallowing the clueless–parents routine. They weren’t that dense.
‘How else did Tabitha skip town with a fat pile of Motley money?‘ she thought. Deep down, they knew Stan was a walking red flag–cold, controlling, a total headcase. So, they let Tabitha ditch, maybe even handed her the getaway car.
Later, the original Geneva probably figured it out. She held onto the marriage, not for Stan, but to beg for a shred of her parents‘ care.
It was a sucker’s bet. Stan had her tossed into a psych ward, and her parents? They didn’t make a sound.
She died there, crushed and alone, betrayed by the family she’d spent her whole life chasing.
Now, the room hummed with a tension so thick one could slice it with a knife. Rocky and Selena were fuming–never had their child dared to clap back like this.
Rocky’s face was a thundercloud as she snapped, “Geneva, you’re tougher than your sister, and you’re the older one. Isn’t it just basic decency to let Tabitha have her moment? You seriously wanna torch this family over some petty crap?”
Geneva wasn’t backing down. Divorce? Not a chance. And if it came to that, it wouldn’t be some tidy, no–drama exit.
She shot back,“So, because I’m tough, I’m supposed to eat dirt? Tabitha’s fragile, so I gotta bend over backward for her? And you two–parents who popped me out without a say, then half–assed raising me–ever think you might owe me an apology?”
Salena was over it. Her voice burned with rage. “We fed you, clothed you–what’s your deal? And now you’ve got the guts to point fingers at us?”
Stan had been banking on Geneva’s folks to bully her into signing the divorce papers, but now? It was clear–she was clinging to her role as the Wheeler family’s queen bee, even brushing off her own parents.
His disgust hit fever pitch. “Geneva,” he growled, voice taut, “if you didn’t choose to marry me, let’s end this. Get things back to normal.”
“She’s been playing queen of the Wheeler family for years–what the hell else does she want?‘ he fumed silently, his thoughts dripping with venom.
When Geneva just stared, her blue eyes like black holes swallowing the light, Stan’s tone turned arctic. “You know I was meant to marry Tabitha. She’s the one I love. If you and your scheming parents hadn’t pulled that bait–and–switch, I’d never be stuck with you.”
Geneva let out a sharp, jagged laugh that cut like a blade. “Oh, save it, Stan. You knew the Motley family swapped brides, didn’t you? And you didn’t bat an eye. You green–lit this marriage, pal. Now you’re playing the victim, whining that I stole your true love’s spot? I got saddled with a husband, stuck with a tool like you, and somehow I’m the bad guy?”
Truth was, Stan had known about the swap. To him, marrying a Motley girl was just a checkbox–didn’t matter which one.
His face twisted, but he kept his cool. “Geneva, the smart move isn’t duking it out with me. It’s divorce. Sign the papers, and you can walk away with whatever you want.”
She tilted her head, like she was sizing up his offer. “Well, since you’re feeling so generous, I won’t play nice.”
In a few eerie, feather–light steps–her rail–thin frame made her glide like a specter–she closed the gap between them.
Her parents always thought she moved like a freak, too bony, too weird.
“I’ll divorce you,” she said, voice low and lethal, “but you’re the one who messed up. I want seventy percent of your cash, Stan.”
His face turned to stone. “Don’t get cocky, Geneva. I’ll toss you a house and 2.5 mil. Take it or get out.”
“Then we’re staying hitched,” she shot back. “You wanna push this? Drag it to court. Let the whole world see your dirty little secrets.”
A flicker of something dark—downright murderous–flashed in Stan’s eyes. “You’re threatening me? You’re a nobody, Geneva. Keep this up, and I’ll get nasty. You sure you can handle what I’m packing?“,
He wasn’t about to let his one true love down. This marriage was donezo, one way or another.
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Chapter 2
His gaze dripped with the smugness of a guy who’d spent his life on top, sneering down at ants like her.
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But Geneva? She’d been hailed as a genius since diapers, drowned in praise, worshipped for her brilliance. No way was she letting some scumbag talk
down to her.
“Threaten me?” she hissed. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Before he could blink, her hand cracked across his face. The slap rang out like a firecracker.
Her body might’ve been frail, but Geneva’s soul was a freaking volcano, pulsing with a mental force that could shatter worlds. She’d spiked that hit with a jolt of her raw power, and it left Stan’s cheek swollen like a ripe tomato
