Reborn to Wreck My Sister's Fairytale - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Two days later, Thomas had been discharged from the hospital—not that I'd bothered to visit. He claimed he was going home to die, hoping for one last glimpse of his precious daughter.
Turns out, he'd hired an army of trolls to attack me online. The past few days had been a nightmare—relentless insults flooding in, crippling the work of streamers under my management.
"Forget this. I'm going back to handle it," I told Dominic over the phone.
He was stuck overseas, tangled in some international financial investigation with no quick return in sight. His only instruction? Take the two female bodyguards with me.
So I did.
Big mistake.
The second we stepped into Clark Villa, we were ambushed.
Thomas's "terminal illness"? A damn trap. He'd blown a fortune hiring a small army of private security just to corner us. Three against a dozen—with me being completely useless in a fight—didn't stand a chance. The bodyguards were overpowered in minutes.
Then Thomas finally showed his face.
"Charlotte, I gave you a chance. You chose to throw it away."
A snap of his fingers, and goons shoved a forgiveness letter in my face, demanding my signature.
I actually laughed.
After bracing for Madison's schemes, who knew my own parents would be the ones to stab me in the back?
"Thomas, you really think this scrap of paper will save Madison? You think the law is some kind of joke?" I spat, refusing.
His hand cracked across my face so hard my ears rang.
"You ungrateful brat. Dominic's overseas, your guards are neutralized, and you still have the nerve to resist?" He sneered. "Lock her up! No food until she agrees to save Madison. If she wants to starve, let her!"
These people didn't just favor their stepdaughter over me—they didn't even see me as human. Madison could burn their empire to the ground, break every law, and they'd still choose her. Their actual flesh and blood meant nothing.
I shut my eyes, exhausted. "Fine. Let me starve, then."
"Still defiant? We'll see how tough you are by tomorrow." Thomas personally slammed the door shut.
I'd feared the dark since childhood—not because of shadows, but because the nanny who raised me loved locking me in closets at night.
Now, trapped in Clark Villa's freezing storage room without even a blanket, late autumn's chill gnawed at my bones. Outside, chaos erupted—shouting, crashing.
Dominic couldn't be back yet... Were my brothers here?
Then—the door flew open.
"Baby, I'm so sorry I'm late—" Dominic's voice broke when he saw me curled in the corner. He hauled me into his arms, immediately feeling my feverish skin.
"By morning, the Clark Group will be ashes. I keep my promises." His rage was ice-cold.
Thomas looked like he'd seen a ghost. How had Dominic crossed continents overnight?
And he wasn't alone—my four brothers stormed in behind him.
"Charlotte, are you okay?"
"They DARED lock you up?!"
"Sweetheart, I'm here." Grace—my real mother—marched straight to Thomas and slapped him hard enough to snap his head back. Then she drove her heel into Sarah's stomach.
"You vile, heartless monsters! You don't deserve to call yourselves parents!" She turned to the Marshall security team. "Burn this place to the ground!"
Within thirty minutes, Clark Villa was rubble.
Grace personally lit the match.
Thomas screamed about calling the police—but they'd illegally imprisoned me first. This was self-defense.
Meanwhile, my brothers unleashed a PR storm. The internet exploded with the truth: how Thomas and Sarah had sacrificed their real daughter for a psychopathic adoptee. Overnight, the hate mob turned on them.
My streamers' audiences went wild—buying out inventories as apology. Even my plea for rationality backfired, fueling more purchases.
Dominic's financial strike was absolute. Before dawn, Clark Group collapsed under crushing debt. Creditors swarmed Thomas and Sarah, hurling insults:
"Where's your perfect Madison now? Why isn't she paying your debts?"
"You abandoned Charlotte for that trash? Look where it got you!"
"At least you cut her loose early—she'd be drowning in your mess otherwise."
"Bet you regret it now, huh? Your discarded daughter is a Marshall heir. The most powerful family in Lyrinia!"
Each word visibly gutted them. The Marshalls were untouchable—not from elitism, but integrity. They helped the weak but never played favorites.
Thomas rounded on Sarah, spitting venom: "This is YOUR fault! If you hadn't worshipped Madison—"
Their screaming match got so violent, neighbors called the cops.
And when asked for emergency contacts? They had the audacity to list ME.
I snorted. "Release a statement: From today, I'm Charlotte Marshall."
Dominic made it official within the hour.
I was done.
No amount of public apologies, police pleas, or desperate begging would change that.
Three months into Madison's psychiatric imprisonment, Jaxon filed for divorce.
She wailed, threatened suicide—the works.
He didn't blink. "Madison, Charlotte was right. You're worthless. The world would be better off if you died."
Then he flaunted his pregnant mistress in her face during a visit, cold as Dominic in our past life.
The video he sent me showed Madison—27 but looking 40—screaming:
"Charlotte, you bitch! If I'm going down, you won't win either!"
I almost pitied her.
Almost.