Chapter 2: The Ring He Never Meant for Me

His expression was thunderous.

He crossed the foyer, seized my wrist, and snatched the ring from my hand, holding it up to the light.

“Who gave you the right to take my ring?”

My father sighed, slamming his fist against the dining table.

“Do you have to make a public spectacle of this? Do you want the whole world to know you stole your sister’s future?”

My mother immediately chimed in.

“Mr. Sinclair, Esme insisted on taking it. We couldn’t stop her.”

“Mom, don’t,”

Emma said softly, pressing a handkerchief to the corner of her eye.

“Corbin, my mother didn’t mean that. It’s not Esme’s fault. It’s just… not meant to be for me. It seems I’m always the one who has to step aside.”

Corbin’s expression grew even colder.

“Esme, I never realized how much you’ve taken from Emma. She’s always been the one to give in to you. Does that make everything of hers automatically yours?”

“She has always been in poor health. And now you want to steal her engagement?”

I looked from my parents’ evasive gazes to Emma’s lowered head, and finally to Corbin’s face, tight with righteous anger.

And I laughed.

In my last life, Corbin and I were one of the most talked-about couples on Manhattan’s Upper East Side.

Financial magazines wrote about us.

Charity galas always had us on the guest list.

Everyone said we were the perfect match.

He almost never lost his temper. He never brought another woman to a company event.

Later, an intern framed me. A man’s shirt appeared in my study.

Before I could explain, Corbin took my hand and pressed it to his chest.

“Esme, you don’t have to say anything. I know you didn’t do it.”

He said it didn’t matter what anyone else said; he would always believe me, because I was his wife.

At the time, I thought that was love.

It was only later I understood his so-called trust came from a place of pure indifference.

Whether he believed me or not made no difference to him.

But this was different.

This time, Emma was the one who’d been wronged.

He didn’t need evidence. He didn’t need to ask a single question.

He’d already chosen his side.

I looked at him, my tone calm.

“Corbin, are you sure this ring is yours?”

Corbin froze.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you claiming you were framed? You stole Emma’s ring.”

I pried his fingers open and pointed to the ring in his palm.

“Why don’t you look at it yourself, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Fine. I’ll look.” Corbin brought the ring closer.

A few seconds later, his expression faltered.

The ring in his hand was the antique aquamarine, circled by tiny diamonds.

It wasn’t the plain silver band he’d chosen at all.

He turned the ring over, examining it again and again.

“How could this be… You took Emma’s ring? Why would you choose this one? You clearly—”

I cut him off.

“Mr. Sinclair, as my mother just said, I’m greedy. Of course I wanted the expensive one.”

Now my parents understood, too. Corbin’s ring was the plain silver band.

My mother’s expression shifted, a smile quickly spreading across her face.

“Greed has a way of biting you back. Who would have thought the most expensive one would be the wrong one?”

My father nodded, the relief on his face palpable.

Emma lowered her head, her face slightly flushed.

“Esme…” Corbin’s voice was quiet now. He looked at me, his lips moving, but in the end, he said nothing.

For the rest of the afternoon, Corbin Sinclair didn’t speak another word.