"S-siter?"
Clara frowned, 'Why is this bitch calling me her sister?'
Clara tried to shake Aliya off, for she found her weird. Clara had never met this Aliya woman in person prior. Not in passing, not in a gathering, apart from those whispered rumors. And yet, the moment she laid eyes on Aliya, something inside her recoiled.
This was why Clara could not help but refer to her as a bitch. Clara shuddered internally. She knew without a doubt.
This was the one. The one slithering in the shadows, weaving her way into places she had no right to be. The one who coveted what was never hers to take … her daughter's husband.
Clara had known the very second their eyes met. She didn't need confirmation. It was in Aliya's poised stance, the sickeningly sweet smile that dripped with false charm, and the way she clung just a little too familiarly.
