Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 751

Ayla tried to picture it—a little version of herself with an affectionate, relentless older sister constantly dragging her around. There was no way she could've focused on everything she loved back then. She would've lost her mind.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"We're completely different. We wouldn't have gotten along."

Fabiola looked stricken. "So, you just hate me. Because my mom drugged your dad and wrecked your family, right?"

By now, Ayla had seen right through Fabiola's thick skin. She knew it was an act.

Someone like Fabiola, who could openly criticize her own mother, didn't think like a normal person. She was just playing for sympathy.

Fabiola had fully sunk into the fantasy of being Ayla's big sister. First time playing the role, and she was loving it. "Ayla, don't be like this. I would never hurt you. I'd protect you—because I'm the older one, and that's what the older one does."

Ayla's lips twitched slightly. "That's enough. Phil is petty and couldn't stand to see my mom succeed—they were never going to last."

After Fabiola shared everything with her, Ayla started piecing together a lot of details from her childhood. Like the way Phil had always undermined Juliana's academic work. Now, she could see it for what it was: jealousy. A husband who resented his own wife's achievements that badly—it was shameful.

Ayla said, "Stop bringing up our parents. I don't want to hear anything about Phil."

Fabiola smiled. "So, you don't actually hold it against me. Then why are you still so prickly?"

Ayla glanced at Fabiola's "good girl" facade. This seemingly harmless woman gave her endless goosebumps. Ayla let out a frustrated laugh. "Just stop smiling like that."

Fabiola actually stopped. She blinked at Ayla with wide eyes, wearing the most "aren't I being such a good sis" expression she could manage.

Ayla was starting to understand exactly how Fabiola had played Melody—leading her around in circles until, by the time Melody realized her closest friend had stabbed her in the back, there wasn't a shred of proof.

She was a master of disguise.

"Fabiola, you've got a track record. Don't think acting cute is going to make me warm up to you." Ayla had never expected to gain an older sister, and she certainly hadn't wanted one.

Fabiola blinked. "You mean Melody?"

"Yeah." Ayla had seen it herself.

Something cold flickered across Fabiola's face for just a moment. "Melody? Please."

Then her mask slid back into place—warm, considerate, the picture of goodwill. "Ayla, what you mean to me is completely different. Melody couldn't hold a candle to you."

"...Thanks for the flattery."

"I just don't know what to do to make you trust me." Fabiola didn't seem bothered. "But I'll get my chance to show you."

Ayla's phone buzzed. A message from Draven—around a mile from the exit. Just a few minutes.

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