Taking Back What My Sister Stole novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Larissa, this had nothing to do with you.” Wesley frowned, annoyed by Priscilla’s tone.

He was certain Priscilla was being intentionally unreasonable.

After all, she had never liked the Wilburns, and Larissa, who had just come back, had always been a thorn in her side.

It had been only a month since Larissa’s return, yet he and Priscilla had already argued several times because of her.

Larissa continued, biting her lip, “Priscilla, don’t be upset. You’re pregnant, remember? That’s what matters most. I’ll… keep my distance from Wes from now on.”

“Oh, so you do remember I’m pregnant?” Priscilla curved her lips into a mocking smile.

For the past month, Larissa had summoned Wesley away with every excuse imaginable.

At this, Larissa’s doe eyes filled with tears. She pursed her lips, an injured look on her face.

“Larissa, could you give us the room for a second? Let me talk to her,” Wesley said gently, as if coaxing a child.

Larissa bit her lip and reminded him softly, “Wes, don’t be too hard on her, alright? She’s pregnant with your baby.”

With that, she walked out reluctantly, glancing back a few times before closing the door.

Priscilla looked up at Wesley, her gaze filled with desperation and sadness.

Then she closed her eyes.

As Wesley turned back to her, the gentleness he’d shown Larissa was already gone, replaced by coldness. “Priscilla, leave Larissa out of this. She’s never done anything wrong.”

His protective tone cut deep into Priscilla’s heart.

Their marriage had started as a convenience, but somewhere along the way, she had fallen for him.

She used to think he felt the same.

Until Larissa’s return burst her bubble.

He saved all his tenderness for Larissa.

It had taken Priscilla three years to finally understand-he had never loved her.

“Wesley, let’s get a divorce.” She stared blankly at the IV bag. Though her tone was soft, her resolve was unshakable.

In fact, she had thought about it the day Larissa came back, yet some stubborn part of her still clung to the last shred of hope.

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11:49

Wesley’s stern expression softened a little as he thought of something. “I know it’s just the anger talking. Larissa and I are just friends. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

Priscilla tilted her head, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

As her hand moved to her lower abdomen, she murmured, “Wesley, the baby’s gone.”

Wesley didn’t hear Priscilla’s murmurs. He stood up and walked away with his phone in hand. “Larissa’s waiting for me outside. I’m going to her. Get some rest, Priscilla. I’ll come back later to check on you.”

He couldn’t be bothered to argue with an irrational woman.

“Priscilla! You gave Larissa a hard time again?” Just then, an angry shout erupted as the door slammed against the wall, the crash particularly jarring.

A tall, slender man stormed in, his face, strikingly similar to Priscilla’s, twisted in anger. As his gaze fell upon her pale face, he was slightly stunned. But soon, his questioning voice rang out again, even sterner this time.

“You know today’s Larissa’s birthday, and you got sick in the middle of the night? Gosh, Priscilla. You’re such a cun- ning bitch.” He glared at Larissa in bed, his gaze burning with rage. “What the fuck is your problem? Are you enjoy- ing yourself, screwing with us? Do you ever see us as family?”

He was so certain that Priscilla had pretended to be sick to ruin Larissa’s birthday party.

Priscilla clenched her fists. Here she was, lying in the hospital bed, enduring excruciating pain. Yet Claude, her broth- er, was hurling curses at her.

Grief and despair consumed her.

“Do you think I chose to fall sick today?” she retorted coldly, her hoarse voice laced with sarcasm.

The disgust and impatience in Claude’s eyes were undisguised. “Fine. Forget about your so-called illness. Answer me- Larissa was trying to be nice, coming here to check on you. Why did you make her cry?”