The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 212

The hotel was downtown. Penelope had planned to just drop Norton off and head back to the restaurant, but then she saw him slip a brick into his bag.

Worried he might do something reckless, she had no choice but to follow him inside.

The room was on the third floor, its door wide open. Several of Norton's friends were already there, also providing backup.

Norton rushed over and peeked inside. His friend was sitting on the floor, holding his head in his hands and sobbing. The fiancée was wrapped in a bedsheet, smoking a cigarette with a bored expression, her hair a mess. The other man, a muscular guy, was trapped in the room by the crowd of young men and was now furiously calling for his own reinforcements.

Penelope tried to get a look, but Norton covered her eyes.

"The guy's naked."

"Really?"

"Why do you sound so excited?"

"I'm not! Don't be ridiculous."

"Careful, or I'll tell Theodore."

One of Norton's friends turned to him. "Who's the beautiful lady?"

"This is my sister-in-law, Penelope."

The friend immediately called the others over. They all stood up straight and greeted her in unison with a respectful, "Penelope."

"You can call me Penny, actually," she joked.

"Penny!" they all chanted back.

They were at that boisterous age, and they immediately took to the new nickname.

Norton rolled his eyes. He felt like he'd just let a wolf into the sheep pen.

"What are we waiting for? Let's just beat the crap out of him," Norton said.

"We're definitely going to beat the crap out of that scumbag, but that won't solve the problem," one of the friends replied.

"So how do we solve it?"

It was her.

Yvonne Bishop.

Donald Bishop's eldest daughter, the carefully groomed successor to the family empire.

That summer, Mrs. Bishop had thrown her out, calling her a stain on the family's name and telling her to disappear forever, to stop dirtying their sight.

It had been raining that day. She'd been starving for two days when she finally found the Bishop estate. They had pushed her out, and she had fallen, scraping her knee so badly she couldn't get up.

Then, a girl in a white dress had appeared, holding an umbrella. She had looked down at her with undisguised disgust.

She had tossed a half-eaten piece of cake at her feet. "Today's my birthday. Turns out, it's your birthday too," she'd said with a cold sneer. "Grandpa threw me a party, and so many people came to celebrate. They all said, 'Happy Birthday.' I received so many well wishes, so I'll give you one too: Happy Birthday, Penelope."

The cake, soggy and ruined by the rain, was a perfect reflection of Penelope in that moment.

"But Penelope," the girl had added, "you are not part of our family. You should have never come here."

Penelope snapped back from the distant memory and looked at Yvonne, who was now walking toward them.