Contractually Yours

CHAPTER 1

LISA

Nobody should feel like murder when they're listening to "Il est né le divin enfant." Especially when it's coming from a TV above a fireplace full of merrily dancing orange flames in an opulent five-bedroom suite in the middle of Paris.

And yet...

"What do you think?"

I stare at the string of akoya pearls around my half-sister Rosie's neck. Rage beats in my chest like an imprisoned falcon. The luster on the pearls is amazing, and the size is also good at eight millimeters each.

Those are my pearls, the ones my mom gave me last week. She was sorry she missed my
ballet recital because Rosé cut her finger-probably on purpose-and Dad insisted Mom stay home to help deal with the injury. And of course Mom can never say no to Dad.

"At least I sent Matthias," she said as she presented me with the pearls. Like sending the butler made everything better.

Matthias seems to live his life on Mom's behalf. He dutifully filmed my part of the recital and gave me a bouquet of yellow roses and sunflowes. Mom said my Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker was fabulous-of course, I actually danced Swan Lake.

"Give it back," I say to Rosé. "That necklace is mine."

"So? Don't be such a greedy bitch, Lili. Didn't Daddy tell you to share?" Rosé sneers, her dark eyes flashing with envy and entitlement, then taps her fraternal twin Jimin on the back of the neck, which is covered with brown, shaggy hair.

He doesn't look up from his phone. "What Rosie said."

She gives me a smug smile. Even when Jimin thinks he has better things to do-like texting with his friends-he'll always be on Team Rosé. Every time Mom and Dad want to know why Rosé and I are fighting, Jimin always says something to paint me as the bad guy. Even when his lies are nonsensical and idiotic, they buy them.

And it has emboldened Rosé.

There's nothing of mine she doesn't covet. If she could, she'd filch my clothes. But even though I'm only fourteen, I'm already taller than her. Nothing of mine would fit.

"It's stealing if you take what's not yours without permission," I point out. I'm tired of having to fight Rosé and Jimin for what's mine. Although Jimin doesn't steal my jewelry, he's taken four hundred bucks right out of my wallet. And when I brought it up with Dad, he looked at me like I was the villain.

"It isn't that much money," he said with a heavy sigh and a frown of sheer disapproval and disappointment. It never fails to make me feel like an outsider in my own family. "I don't know why you have to make a fuss."

Rosé's sneer grows uglier and more superior. "It's not stealing! Daddy said it was fine!"

"Daddy isn't the one who gave it to me! My mom did!" I shoot back. "Give it back!"

"Bitch." Rosé pulls the pearls to her mouth and licks them, making sure to cover them with her saliva.

"Ew, that's gross!"

"You said you wanted them back, but you didn't say I couldn't lick them!"

I've had enough! I march toward the upper level, where the bedrooms are. The double doors to my parents' room are slightly ajar, and I lift my hands to push them open. But voices coming from inside stop me in my tracks. One belongs to Dad, but the other one isn't Mom's. It's Gwen's.