The morning sun poured through the massive windows, hitting Anissa's face. She woke up in the center of the king-size bed.

She reached her hand out. The sheets on the left side were perfectly smooth and completely cold. Harding had been up for hours.

She washed her face and walked into the closet. She pulled on a soft, cream-colored Loro Piana cashmere lounge set that fit her perfectly.

She walked out to the dining room. Harding sat at the head of the long marble table. He wore a crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He was drinking black coffee while his assistant read the morning stock reports.

Harding saw her. He raised a finger, silencing his assistant. He pointed to the chair across from him.

A massive New York-style breakfast covered the table, but Anissa's eyes locked onto a thick stack of legal documents resting near her plate.

An older man in a tailored suit stood quietly in the corner, holding a briefcase. Harding gestured to him. "This is a senior Private Judge who handles confidential legal matters for top-tier estates. His seal carries the full weight of the state."

The judge smiled warmly. He slid the marriage registration papers across the marble. "Just your signature here, Madam. Everything else has been expedited."

Anissa stared at the dotted line. If she signed this, she was no longer the punching bag of the Roy family. She was the matriarch of the Snow empire.

She picked up the Montblanc pen. Without a single tremor in her hand, she signed her name.

Harding watched the smooth, aggressive stroke of her pen. A flash of deep approval sparked in his eyes.

The judge stamped the paper with a heavy metal seal. "By the power vested in me, you are legally husband and wife."

Harding reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out a black Centurion Card and slid it across the table to her. "The pin is your birthday."

Anissa picked up the heavy metal card. Her fingertips tingled. In her past life, she had to beg her mother for coffee money. Now, she held the ultimate key to Wall Street.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated violently against the marble table.

The screen lit up. Lorraine Roy.

The buzzing sound cut through the quiet room like a siren. Anissa stared at it. It rang again, and again, a relentless psychological assault.

Harding looked at the screen. He took a slow sip of his coffee. "Do you want me to have the telecom company permanently sever the Roy estate's cellular lines?"

Anissa took a deep breath. She shook her head. "Some tumors have to be cut out by hand."

She swiped the screen and hit the speaker button.

Lorraine's hysterical screaming instantly filled the penthouse. "You shameless little bitch! How dare you crawl into an old man's bed! You made us a laughingstock!"

"You get your ass back to the Long Island estate right now!" Lorraine shrieked. "You will explain this to the family, and you will sign over your trust fund shares to Ashlee to compensate for the trauma you caused her!"

Anissa listened to the venom. Her eyes were colder than the ice in Harding's glass.

"I'm coming back," Anissa said, her voice dead flat. "But not to explain. I'm coming to take what belongs to me."

She tapped the screen, ending the call. She immediately blocked the number.

Harding put his coffee cup down. He stood up, walked around the table, and stopped right behind her chair. He placed both hands on the back of her seat, leaning down.

His face was inches from her ear. His voice was a dark, violent whisper. "Do you want me to send a tactical team to level the estate?"

Anissa's breath hitched at the sheer brutality in his tone. But a rush of absolute power flooded her veins. Someone was finally standing behind her.

She turned her head, looking up into his eyes. "Using a sledgehammer to kill a roach is a waste of energy. I want to rip their masks off myself."

Harding stood up straight. He looked at his assistant. "Get the car ready."

He looked back down at Anissa. "Tear the house down if you want. No matter what mess you make, I will bury it."

The black Maybach pulled up to the massive wrought-iron gates of the Roy family's Long Island estate.

Anissa pushed the heavy car door open. She told Harding's bodyguards to stay in the vehicle. She walked up the marble steps alone, her heels clicking sharply against the stone.

The butler opened the front door. He couldn't meet her eyes. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by nervous sweating. He had clearly seen the morning news.

Anissa walked into the grand living room. The entire Roy family was sitting on the sofas, arranged like a tribunal waiting to sentence a criminal.

Her father, Harold, sat in the center, puffing angrily on a cigar. Lorraine sat beside him, glaring daggers. Her three brothers flanked them.

Ashlee was curled up on the loveseat, wearing a pathetic white sweater. Her eyes were red and puffy. She leaned her head against Anissa's second brother, Brendan, looking like a shattered victim.

The moment Anissa stepped onto the rug, her eldest brother, Cameron, slammed his hand on the coffee table and stood up.

"You actually have the nerve to show your face!" Cameron roared. "To get back at Connor, you seduced a man old enough to be your uncle! You dragged our name through the mud!"

Anissa let out a dry, mocking laugh. "When Connor ran out of the church to go hold a D-list actress's hand, where was your concern for the family name, Cameron?"

Brendan immediately wrapped his arm around Ashlee. "Shut up! You didn't just ruin the wedding. You assaulted Ashlee in the church!"

Brendan grabbed Ashlee's hand and held it up. The red mark was completely gone, but he acted like her arm was broken. "You are a vicious, psychotic bitch!"

Ashlee squeezed her eyes shut, forcing two tears to fall. She grabbed Brendan's sleeve. "Don't yell at her, Brendan. She was just heartbroken. She needed someone to take it out on."

Her third brother, Dylan, sneered. "Ashlee stood in heels for hours apologizing to your guests, and you were busy whoring yourself out in the VIP room."

Hearing her three biological brothers viciously defend the adopted sister made Anissa's stomach churn. In her past life, this would have broken her heart. Now, it just made her want to vomit.

She walked over to a single armchair. She didn't wait for permission. She sat down, crossed her legs, and looked at them with pure boredom.

Harold took the cigar out of his mouth. He used his ultimate patriarch voice. "You will divorce Harding Snow today. You will release a statement saying it was a prank."

"I spoke to Connor," Harold continued, looking incredibly smug. "If you get on your knees and apologize, he is willing to take you back. We can redo the wedding next month."

Anissa stared at him. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. She threw her head back and laughed out loud.

The sound was sharp and grating in the tense room. Lorraine's face turned purple. "You ungrateful, classless brat!"

Lorraine pointed her finger at Anissa's nose. "If you don't do exactly as we say, we will disown you in the papers! I will cut off every single credit card in your name!"

In her past life, that threat was a death sentence. It was the leash they used to choke her into submission.

Anissa reached into her designer bag. She pulled out the heavy metal Centurion Card.

She flicked her wrist. The Black Card hit the glass coffee table with a loud, sharp clack.

The exclusive black metal gleamed under the chandelier. Harold's eyes bulged. The three brothers stared at the card, recognizing the ultimate symbol of limitless wealth.

Anissa looked dead into Lorraine's eyes. "I wouldn't wipe my shoes with your dirty money."

"I didn't come here to listen to your delusions," Anissa said, her voice echoing in the silent room. "I came to inform you that I am legally married to Harding Snow."

The room went dead silent. Harold's jaw dropped. His lit cigar slipped from his fingers and burned a hole straight through the Persian rug.

Cameron's eyes widened in horror. "That's impossible. Harding Snow doesn't marry cast-offs."

Ashlee's face drained of all color. The fragile victim mask cracked, revealing a flash of pure, venomous jealousy.

Anissa stood up. She looked down at the people who shared her blood. "I am no longer your puppet."

She ignored their sputtering gasps. She turned her back on them and walked toward the grand staircase, heading to the second floor to take back her life.

Anissa's heels sank into the thick Persian runner as she climbed the stairs. She headed straight for her old bedroom at the end of the hall.

Heavy footsteps pounded behind her. Lorraine chased her up the stairs, her face twisted in rage. Lorraine lunged forward and grabbed Anissa's wrist, her manicured nails digging painfully into the skin.

"Stop this act right now!" Lorraine hissed, her chest heaving. "A man like Harding Snow doesn't marry girls like you! This is just a PR stunt to punish Connor!"

Lorraine sneered, her breath hot on Anissa's face. "Once the news cycle dies, he will throw you out like the trash you are."

Anissa yanked her arm back with brutal force. She looked at the red crescent marks Lorraine's nails had left on her skin. The last microscopic shred of hope for a mother's love died in her chest.

She looked up, her eyes dead. "Is that what I am to you? Trash?"

Lorraine flinched, but her pride forced her to double down. "If you weren't so miserable and boring, Connor wouldn't have looked at another woman! You have half of Ashlee's warmth!"

Anissa didn't yell. She started clapping. The slow, sarcastic claps echoed in the hallway. "Your gaslighting really is a masterpiece, Mother. Twenty years, and you haven't lost your touch."

Anissa took a step forward, forcing Lorraine to back up against the wall. "When I was ten, I had a 104-degree fever. You left me with the maid so you could take Ashlee to Paris because she scraped her knee."

"When I was sixteen, I got early admission to the Ivy League. No one came to dinner. Because Ashlee failed her exams and was crying in her room."

Anissa's voice was low, but every word was a knife slicing through the family's perfect facade.

Lorraine's face went from red to a sickly pale green. Panic flashed in her eyes because she couldn't deny it. She resorted to her only weapon: authority.

"You hold grudges over petty nonsense!" Lorraine screamed. "You are a cold-blooded monster!"

Anissa turned away in disgust. She grabbed the brass handle of her bedroom door and pushed it open.

She stopped. The room was completely unrecognizable.

Her antique oak desk was gone. In its place was a massive, pink velvet clothing rack stuffed with Ashlee's overflow designer dresses. Her bookshelves had been ripped out to make room for shoe displays.

Anissa's blood turned to ice. She slowly turned her head to look at Lorraine. "What is this?"

Lorraine avoided her gaze, crossing her arms defensively. "Ashlee has too many clothes. You were moving out to marry Connor anyway. The room was empty."

Anissa let out a dark chuckle. They had erased her existence from this house before she even put on her wedding dress.

"Where is the Cartier sapphire necklace Grandmother left me?" Anissa demanded, her voice dropping an octave. "And where are my trust fund documents?"

Lorraine stammered, taking a step back. "The necklace... Ashlee is borrowing it for the Debutante Ball next week."

"And the trust?" Lorraine lifted her chin, trying to look brave. "I transferred it to Ashlee this morning. As compensation for the trauma you caused her yesterday."

Pure, unadulterated rage exploded in Anissa's chest. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit speed dial.

Harding's assistant answered on the first ring. Anissa put it on speaker.

"Please send Mr. Snow's corporate legal team to the Long Island estate right now," Anissa commanded, her eyes locked dead on her mother. "I have reason to believe someone has tampered with my personal trust fund. Have the lawyers investigate every transaction. I want them to use whatever aggressive legal measures are necessary to recover what is mine and handle the perpetrators according to the law."

"Understood, Madam," the assistant's crisp voice replied. "A helicopter will land on the estate lawn in ten minutes."

Lorraine's knees buckled. She slammed her hand against the doorframe to keep from collapsing. The words federal prison echoed in her brain.

She stared at her daughter in absolute terror. She finally realized Anissa wasn't throwing a tantrum. Anissa was going to burn them to the ground.

Anissa didn't give her mother another glance. She turned and marched down the hall toward Ashlee's massive master suite.

She lifted her leg and kicked Ashlee's door open with a deafening crash.