My father’s mistress stormed our home, planting herself on our sofa and smugly demanding my mother step aside. Furious, my mother immediately demanded a divorce. My father agreed in a heartbeat, wrapping his arm around the other woman and ordering my mother to get out. As my mom grabbed my hand to leave, I pulled away and linked my arm through my father’s. “I’m not leaving,” I said. “I’m staying with Dad.” My mother’s family called me an ungrateful viper. I treated the mistress with the utmost respect, and when she became pregnant, I doted on her tirelessly. She loved to tell people she’d gained a devoted daughter for free, that she’d never have to worry about being cared for in her old age. But she had no idea that there’s a certain kind of manipulation, a special kind of trap, known as praise-killing. 1. I was walking home from school, and before I even reached the front door, I could hear shouting. My parents’ voices were sharp and angry, but they were tangled with the voice of a woman I didn’t recognize. The moment I stepped inside, my mother’s voice, stretched to its breaking point, cut through the air. “Since you’ve brought your mistress here to stage a coup, let’s just get a divorce!” My father’s eyes flickered toward me. Seeing me just quietly setting down my schoolbag, showing no reaction, he boomed, “Fine by me! I’ve been putting up with you for years, always nagging, always controlling! Not an ounce of softness in you! And after all this time, you couldn’t even give me a son. Who’s supposed to inherit the family business?” My mother let out a bitter, humorless laugh. She grabbed my arm. “So it’s just me and our daughter who are in your way? Fine! We’ll leave. You can shack up with your little homewrecker and have your precious son!” A flicker of panic crossed my father’s face. “Lara is my daughter! You can’t take her!” Though he’d always wanted a son, I had to admit, my father had always doted on me. If I wanted something, he almost always gave it to me. My mother’s grip tightened. “We’ll see if Lara even wants to go with you. Lara, let’s go!” She pulled at my arm, but I stood my ground, unmoving. That’s when the other woman saw her opening. Her voice was syrupy sweet. “Now, now, you can’t force her. It doesn’t look like Lara wants to leave with you.” Her voice was gentle, her face a mask of innocence. No wonder my father fell for her. My mother shot her a venomous look, her voice rising. “Lara, you tell us. Who are you going with?” I gently pulled my hand from my mother’s grasp, turned, and linked my arm through my father’s. “Mom, I’m not leaving,” I said softly. “I’m staying with Dad.” 2. My father roared with laughter, one arm slung around his mistress, the other pulling me close. “That’s my girl!” My mother’s hand trembled as she pointed at me, speechless. Finally, the words tore from her throat. “Fine. Just fine. Like father, like daughter. Two heartless snakes in the same pit!” She spun around and slammed the door, the sound echoing through the house. I watched her leave, my face a blank mask, my nails digging so deep into my palms that they drew blood. “Dad,” I said quietly, “I’m going to pack a few things for Mom to take with her.” As I was folding my mother’s clothes, my father came into the room with the other woman. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Lara, don’t blame me. You’re too young to understand adult relationships. Eva and I… this is true love. Since you chose to stay, I hope you can accept her. A happy home makes for a happy life, right? I can’t focus on my business if you two aren’t getting along.” Eva stepped forward and took my hand, her touch warm and cloying. “Lara, if you’re not comfortable, you can keep calling me Aunt Eva after your father and I are married. I don’t mind at all.” I smiled inwardly at her magnanimous act. Trying to look like the bigger person so Dad will admire you? I won’t let you have that satisfaction. If this was a game of shamelessness, I could play it better than she ever could. I summoned a brighter, more enthusiastic smile and placed her hand back in my father’s. “Don’t be silly! If you’re marrying my father, you’ll be my mother. Mom,” I said, looking her straight in the eye, “congratulations on your wedding. I wish you and Dad all the happiness in the world.” A cheater and a homewrecker. Better to keep them chained together where they couldn’t ruin anyone else’s lives. Eva was stunned, clearly not expecting this reaction. My father, however, was beaming. He ruffled my hair. “Lara, you’re so grown up. So understanding. I knew I wasn’t wrong to spoil you all these years.” Seeing him in such a good mood, I seized the opportunity. “Dad, I’m starting my junior year soon. You know how tough it gets. I was thinking of taking an advanced prep course over the summer to make sure I can get into a top university.” 3. “Of course! My daughter is so ambitious, I’ll give you whatever you need!” He didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his phone and, with a grand flourish, transferred ten thousand dollars into my account. “This is a start. If you need more, just ask!” I gave him my sweetest smile. “You’re the best, Dad!” I picked up the suitcase I’d packed. “I’ll just drop this off for Mom. Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom.” As I walked away, I saw their reflection in the glass of the front door. He was holding Eva, kissing her passionately. I caught my own reflection in the car’s rearview mirror and allowed myself a cold, hard smile. This was just the beginning. First things first, I needed to win back my real mother and make sure she was on my side. I drove to my grandmother’s house and rang the bell. My uncle answered, his face a thundercloud. “What is that little traitor doing here? Go on, go back to your father and live the high life!” I held up the suitcase. “I’m just dropping off some of Mom’s things.” He reached for it, but an older, wrinkled hand shot out and stopped him. “We don’t want her charity. As if we can’t afford to buy a few new clothes.” It was my grandmother. She shoved me back, her breath coming in angry gasps. “Get out! You’re not welcome here! As of today, I don’t have a granddaughter!” The door started to swing shut. I dropped the suitcase, wedging my body in the opening. “Mom!” I yelled into the house. “You left! If I leave too, are you just going to hand everything over to them on a silver platter?” My grandmother and uncle froze. In that brief moment of hesitation, I pushed past them and into the house. My mother was sitting on the living room sofa, silently wiping away tears. When she saw me, her eyes turned red all over again. My heart ached. I rushed to her and wrapped her in a hug. “Mom, don’t cry. The only way we can get what we deserve is if I stay with him. You were with him for years, from when he had nothing until his business was a success. You can’t let that woman waltz in and steal it all!” 4. I showed her the banking notification on my phone. “Look, Dad just gave me ten thousand dollars. I’ll transfer it to you. To keep me and that woman on good terms, he’s going to keep giving me money and gifts. I’ll save everything for you. Once I graduate from college, I’ll cut them off and we can start a new life together, just the two of us!” She hugged me tightly, her voice thick with emotion. “But you’ll be miserable, having to see their faces every day!” I smiled. “It’s not a sacrifice. It’s an investment in our future. It’s worth it.” Miserable? Far from it. Leading them step by step into the trap I’d designed, watching them stumble around, blind and self-satisfied… it was going to be incredibly entertaining. All my life, people had been fooled by my sweet, innocent exterior, calling me a good, obedient child. Not even my own mother knew the truth: I have a dark streak. I enjoy the game, the intricate dance of manipulation. And now, a brand-new toy had been delivered right to my doorstep. It would be rude not to play. When I returned home, I made sure my eyes were red and puffy. As I expected, my father saw my tear-streaked face and immediately assumed I’d been given a hard time. He pulled me into a protective hug. “Don’t you ever go back to that witch’s house again. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue. “But she’s my mother,” I sobbed. “It hurts that she’d treat me like that.” He immediately went to his safe and pulled out a thick gold chain. Eva’s eyes widened, but she didn’t dare say a word. He fastened it around my neck. “Your birthday is in a few days. Think of this as an early present. We’ll have a huge party for you.” A few days later, he did just that, throwing me a lavish birthday party and handing me a thick envelope of cash. I made sure to pose for photos with him and Eva, my arms linked through theirs. He was ecstatic, bragging to everyone about his perfect life: a beautiful wife and a devoted daughter. 5. The following months were a blur of studying for my final exams. I told my dad I needed to live in the dorms to focus. Thrilled by my diligence—and no doubt happy to have me out of the house so he and Eva could have their privacy—he readily agreed, setting up a generous monthly allowance for me. After covering my expenses, I transferred every remaining dollar to my mother. The semester flew by. When I came home for winter break, I found my father and Eva had prepared a feast to welcome me. “What a wonderful day! Lara’s home from school, and I have some great news to announce!” My father was grinning from ear to ear. I glanced at Eva’s gently rounded belly and the triumphant smirk on her face. I smiled brightly. “Am I going to be a big sister?” Eva nestled against my father’s side, feigning shyness as she nodded. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad!” I raised my glass to toast them. My father clapped me on the shoulder, his face glowing with satisfaction. “I couldn’t be happier. A smart, loving daughter, and a pregnant wife. What more could a man ask for? If it’s a boy, my life will be truly complete.” Eva rested a hand on her stomach, her chin held high. “Everyone says I’m carrying low. It’s definitely a boy. Don’t you worry, David. The Clark family business will have its heir.” They were so lost in their happy fantasy, they didn’t notice the flicker of ice in my eyes. Talking about a son inheriting everything, right in front of me, as if I didn't even exist. Fine. If that’s how you want it, then I won’t hold back. But whether that son of yours will ever be born… that remains to be seen. 6. As Eva started to get up to get rice from the kitchen, I gently pushed her back down and took her bowl. “Mom, let me. You’re pregnant now, you should rest.” She watched, a smug smile playing on her lips, as I respectfully placed the steaming bowl of rice in front of her. “You’re such a good girl, Lara.” My father nodded in approval. As I served her food, I said, “It’s perfect timing, with my winter break. I can take care of Mom at home. You can focus on your business trips, Dad. I’ve got everything handled here.” Eva hesitated, her hand instinctively going to her belly. She gave me a wary look, as if trying to figure out my angle. But my expression was one of pure sincerity, impossible to fault. Hearing my father sing my praises, she had no choice but to force a smile and agree. The next day, I was up at dawn. I made breakfast and then slipped out of the house. Eva didn’t wake up until noon. She came downstairs to an empty house and frowned. When I returned, she was sitting on the sofa, looking thoroughly annoyed. She shot me a sideways glance. “Some caregiver you are. First day of break and you disappear. I was starving.” I put on a hurt expression and pointed to the dining table. “Mom, I made you breakfast before I left. You were still sleeping, so I went out to buy a few things…” My father walked in behind me and glared at Eva. “You’re getting spoiled. Lara is a high school student, and she got up at the crack of dawn to make you breakfast. Then she dragged me out to buy you new slippers because she was worried yours weren’t comfortable enough. And you, not a word of thanks, just complaints. She’s my daughter, not your servant.” 7. Eva’s eyes welled up with tears. “I’m carrying your son, a Clark heir, and you talk to me like that!” I saw my father was about to retort. I hid my smile and stepped in to play peacemaker. “Dad, please don’t. Mom is pregnant, her emotions are all over the place. We have to be more understanding. Besides, I did promise to take care of her. It’s natural for her to be a little anxious when she wakes up and I’m not here.” My father muttered under his breath, “Your own mother was never this dramatic when she was pregnant with you…” I scoffed internally. So now you remember how good she was? Pathetic. I pulled a new pair of slippers from my shopping bag and knelt at Eva’s feet. “Mom, these have extra-soft soles. They’ll be really comfortable. Your feet will probably start to swell soon, so I got them a size bigger.” Her expression softened as she watched me put the slippers on her feet. I helped her to the table with a cheerful smile, showing no sign of resentment. Then I went to the balcony to bring in the laundry. My father followed me, pressing a wad of cash into my hand. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this, Lara,” he whispered. I just smiled and gently pushed him toward the door. “It’s okay. Mom is carrying the future of our family. A little hardship is nothing. You should get to the office, Dad. You have a lot to deal with.” He left, beaming with pride. I turned back to look at Eva, sitting at the table like a queen waiting to be served, and my own smile widened. Just you wait. I’ll put you on a pedestal so high, the fall will be spectacular. And it will hurt so much more. Losing everything is far more painful than never having had it at all. 8. In the days that followed, my care for Eva was nothing short of meticulous. I supported her when she walked. I prepared whatever food she craved. I brought her a blanket when she was cold and a basin of warm water to soak her feet before bed. I was like a handmaiden from an ancient imperial court. Under my constant pampering, Eva’s weight ballooned. In less than a month, she gained thirty pounds. Her doctor issued a stern warning about her diet. But I had already stretched her appetite beyond her control. I served her six meals a day. In between the main courses, there was a never-ending parade of fresh fruit, milk, and expensive supplements like bird’s nest soup and sea cucumber stew—all, I claimed, to nourish her baby brother. Faced with such delicacies, her doctor’s orders were quickly forgotten. With my constant attention, it wasn’t just her body that expanded; her temper did too. I flattered her relentlessly, praising the baby in her womb as if it were a divine gift. She began to believe it, carrying herself with an air of immense self-importance, as if she were performing some heroic feat. She stopped being sweet and affectionate with my father. When he came home late from work, she would accuse him of cheating, her voice dripping with suspicion. Their arguments became more frequent. Each time, I would step in to calm my father down. Seeing Eva’s behavior, he became convinced that I was suffering under her tyranny at home. I would force a brave smile and tell him it was fine. Overcome with guilt and admiration, he would transfer thousands more dollars to my account as “compensation.” This cycle repeated itself several times a week. As their fights grew more bitter, my phone would chime with one deposit notification after another, not to mention the constant stream of small gifts my father brought home for me. I would sit in my room, watching the balance in my bank account grow, and laugh. Then I’d transfer every cent to my mother. 9. After weeks of being worshipped like a goddess, Eva finally let her guard down around me. She even started taking me with her when she met her friends for lunch. They were stunned to see me waiting on her hand and foot. Eva would preen under their attention. “This is my stepdaughter,” she’d announce proudly. “She’s just wonderful to me. See? I got a free daughter to take care of me. That ex-wife of David’s is such a loser. She lost her husband, and even her own daughter wouldn’t go with her!” I stood by silently, a placid smile on my face, as she bad-mouthed my mother. One of her friends shot me a nervous glance. “Eva, the kid’s right here. Lower your voice.” Eva waved a dismissive hand, not even looking at me. “What’s there to be afraid of? She’s a pushover. She chose her father, so she wouldn’t dare defend her mother. She knows who pays the bills.” I acted as if I hadn’t heard a thing, calmly refilling her teacup. “You must be thirsty from all that talking, Mom. Have some tea.” Her friends left that day marveling at what a well-behaved and devoted stepdaughter she had. Soon, everyone in her circle knew it. The winter break flew by. I looked at Eva’s swollen, ungainly form as she struggled to walk and smiled with satisfaction. It was time for the next phase of the plan. She was resting comfortably in bed. I placed a fresh set of clothes for her in the bathroom. “Mom, I have to go back to school soon, and I still have some homework to finish. I’m going to go upstairs and work on it. Your clothes are all ready for you when you want to take a shower.” She waved me away without a second thought and rolled over to sleep. I walked calmly to my room and closed the door. My hands were trembling with excitement. I put on my headphones, and the mechanical voice of an English language recording filled my ears, slowly calming my racing heart. The moment was almost here. I just wondered if she would be able to handle it.
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