Gemotions

“Absolutely preposterous!” I spat, the word laced with venom. I paced the sterile confines of the lawyer's office, my tailored suit feeling constricting. The document lay open on the gleaming mahogany desk, the ink mocking me.

My sister, Seraphina, the actress, now owned the family art gallery. I, the one who’d spent years nurturing the business, curating its collections, received… a small trust fund.

I balled my hands into fists.

The lawyer, a man with a perpetually neutral expression, continued to sip his water. I could feel my pulse hammering in my temples. The room, with its expensive furniture and muted colors, felt suffocating.

My blood was boiling. I fought the urge to overturn the table. The thought of confronting Seraphina made me shudder.

“This… this changes everything,” I finally managed, my voice strained.