Chapter 5: Living Forever in My Shadow

What disgusted Alicia most was how skilled Mitchell was at maintaining appearances. By the time she realized that everything had been part of Mitchell's manipulation, it was already too late. From that moment on, she swore to reclaim everything that had once belonged to her mother. After a final argument, Alicia threw them out of the house. Exhausted, she collapsed onto her bed, staring blankly at the beige ceiling. Outside, the wind gently rustled the treetops, accompanied by the sound of birds joyfully singing. Sunlight streamed in, casting a soft glow across Alicia’s face. The light, slightly blinding, snapped her out of her daze. Looking around the empty bedroom, Alicia realized that Charles hadn’t come home the night before. A wave of nausea rose within her, the bitter taste of disappointment settling in her heart. *Maybe this is what it feels like to be completely disillusioned,* she thought. After all, they were about to divorce—Charles was no longer her concern. She let herself fall back onto the bed, feeling utterly defeated. Suddenly, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the house. Alicia jumped up quickly, walking toward the living room. Somewhere inside her, there was still a glimmer of hope. But when she saw who had entered, her anger surged. It was Linda. Alicia couldn't help but sneer. “Oh, it's you. The woman who thrives on being the unwanted third wheel in someone else's relationship.” Linda casually flipped her hair back, as if unbothered. "Still using a key to unlock the door in such a big house? Abroad, we use facial recognition. Your key lock is outdated—just like you." She paused for effect, her tone dripping with arrogance. "And by the way, no one’s the third wheel. It’s the one who’s not loved that’s out of place. How does it feel, Alicia, living in my shadow all these years?” Alicia dug her nails into her thigh to keep her composure. “His room is over there. Go find him yourself,” she said coldly, pointing Linda in the right direction. Humming to herself, Linda strutted into Charles’ room. When she emerged, she was wearing several pieces of jewelry and had deliberately placed a pink Hello Kitty band-aid on her wrist. She flaunted herself in front of Alicia, making sure to show off. "You might as well stop fighting. Charles has already promised to marry me." A smug smile crept across Linda’s face as she looked down at Alicia. "Besides, you’ve never won against me. You’ve always lived in my shadow, ever since we were kids." Her words brought a flood of memories rushing back for Alicia. Growing up, everything that had once been hers was taken away with a single word from Linda. Furious, Alicia reached out and ripped the band-aid from Linda’s wrist. “You can only pick up what I don’t want.” Holding the band-aid up in front of Linda’s face, Alicia continued, “People are like this band-aid—good for one use. By the second time, even in water, they lose their stickiness. Charles and I have been together for five years. His habits, little by little, have become like mine.” Her words struck a nerve, and Linda’s face twisted with anger. Alicia didn’t wait—she shoved Linda out the door. As Linda walked away, Alicia’s words echoed in her mind, her frustration building with every step. On the way back, a call came through from Charles’ assistant. The assistant, caught off guard by Linda’s foul mood, hesitated. “Ms. Linda, I—I’m sorry to bother you, but the design team wants to add a new character. They’re requesting an artist like you to lead the design.” “Then why are you calling me if they've already decided?” Linda snapped. “Why are they interfering with my work?” The assistant went silent, unsure how to respond. Linda took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll handle it when I get back.” But instead of dealing with the issue when she arrived at the company, Linda headed straight for Charles’ office. She tossed a bag of clothes onto his desk, expecting praise. However, as Charles glanced at the contents, his expression darkened. Linda noticed his change in demeanor and panicked slightly. "What’s wrong with the clothes?" Charles threw the bag back on the desk. "Of course there’s something wrong. I don’t wear these kinds of clothes to important events." He glanced at her, his irritation growing. “When you went to pick up the clothes, wasn’t Alicia at home?” Linda, realizing that the clothes didn’t match Charles’ usual style, began to feel flustered. “Well, you know how she is. She doesn’t like me, so she wouldn’t even let me inside the house. I had to wait outside for the longest time. She picked out these clothes,” Linda said, pouting to evoke sympathy. Charles exhaled deeply. "Let’s not focus on the small things. What’s important now is *Valorate*." With only seven days left before the game’s public launch, the art and modeling were critical for its success—both for Charles’ company and for Linda. “I understand,” Linda replied sweetly. “But do I have the honor of having lunch with you today?” Charles nodded lightly in agreement. Meanwhile, back at the villa, Alicia was eating oranges to suppress the lingering nausea Linda’s visit had left her with. Just as she was finishing, the doorbell rang again, and her frustration mounted. She opened the door to find Charles’ assistant, Randy, standing there. “I’m here to pick up clothes for the Duke,” he said bluntly. Alicia froze. “Didn’t someone already pick them up?” Randy’s face twisted in frustration. “Lady Alicia, this is a critical time. The Duke is swamped with work preparing for the game launch, and you gave him ill-fitting clothes? Are you doing this on purpose?” Alicia couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Not only had Linda lied about her to Charles, but now his assistant had the audacity to speak to her so disrespectfully. She grabbed a suitable set of clothes and handed them to Randy. But just as he reached out to take the bag, Alicia tightened her grip. “No wonder you’ve stayed an assistant all these years. Want to know why?” she asked, her voice cold and cutting. “It’s because you look down on people like a dog.”