After the funeral, I found myself standing at a crossroads I never imagined. My sister, Emily, ridiculed my “cheap” funeral dress in front of everyone, calling me a disgrace to the family. Little did she know, the dress was worth thirty thousand dollars, and I owned the fashion brand she modeled for. But that wasn’t all. Her dismissal letter was already signed. This was how I made every single one of them pay…
The church was quiet, filled only with the murmur of condolences, until my sister, Sarah Miller, decided to make the funeral all about her latest critique. We were burying our father, but she stood there sizing me up, her gaze sharp and dismissive.
“God, Megan, could you at least try?” she said loudly, making several heads turn. “That dress looks like something from a clearance bin. A disgrace, really. Especially today.”
My cheeks flushed, but I didn’t rise to her bait. My mother looked away, her face full of discomfort. The rest of the room shifted awkwardly as Sarah smirked, thinking she had made some grand point. To her, I was still the “plain” younger sister—the one she loved to mock, the one who was always overshadowed by her.
But what Sarah didn’t know was that the dress she was criticizing—simple, black, and elegant—was worth thirty thousand dollars.
And what she definitely didn’t know was that I was the silent owner of the brand she modeled for, and her career with the brand was about to come crashing down.
For five years, I watched her parade around in front of the cameras, enjoying the fame and fortune I had built. She had no idea that all of it, every runway she strutted down, was under my ownership and my control.
But the moment she insulted me at our father’s funeral, something inside me shifted.
That morning, before I even arrived at the church, I had signed a document:
Sarah Miller’s termination of contract.
And that was just the beginning.
I stood there, next to our father’s casket, meeting her smug gaze with a calm smile. She had no idea what was about to unfold. What I would do next would make her realize how wrong she was to underestimate me.
The first crack in her perfect life had already begun.
