DEBORAH POV
The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off my view of Elijah's office. My nails dug into my palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks. The memory of my cousin's tear-stained face flashed through my mind - a reminder of what happened when others tried to take what was mine.
Now here I was, cast aside like yesterday's newspaper because little Miss Perfect had stumbled into another mess. My lip curled in disgust. Let her drown in it. Maybe then Elijah's fool of a father would see her for the gutter rat she truly was.
The elevator chimed, doors opening to reveal Elijah's secretary. Her plastered-on smile faltered as she caught sight of my thunderous expression.
"Goodbye, Miss—"
I shouldered past her, the clack of my heels echoing through the marble lobby. Outside, the bustling street mocked me. No sleek town car waiting, no chauffeur opening doors. Just yellow cabs and harried pedestrians.
