The Sister-In-Law Season 2 - Episode 13 – The Trojan Horse

Daniel sat in his empty house, the silence a constant reminder of his defeat. He needed a new angle, a vulnerability. He found it in an old photo album he’d meant to pack away. A picture of a much younger Eleanor, holding a baby Sheila, standing next to a man Daniel barely recognized—Eleanor’s first husband, Rita’s father, who had died when Rita was a child. He remembered the story Eleanor had told once, a rare moment of vulnerability: he had been a brilliant but reckless artist who’d left them with nothing but debts. It was the source of her iron-clad obsession with financial security. It was her foundational trauma.

Daniel spent hours online, digging into public archives and old newspaper databases. He found it in a 1988 article about a gallery scandal. Eleanor’s first husband had been accused of forging paintings. The charges were eventually dropped, but the accusation alone had ruined him. The article mentioned a partner, a young, ambitious art dealer who had testified against him. The name was familiar. Arthur Vance. Eleanor’s second husband. Sheila’s father. The man who had saved her from ruin was the same man who had helped destroy her first love. It was a secret she would have buried under layers of money and propriety.

Daniel knew he couldn’t approach Rita. But he could send her a message. He scanned the old newspaper article and the photo of Eleanor with her first husband. He wrote a short, simple email to an old, forgotten address of Rita’s he found in his contacts. She didn’t save you from me. She saved you from becoming her. He hit send, not knowing if it would even reach her. An hour later, his phone buzzed. It wasn’t a text or a call. It was a single, anonymous message from a burner app. The back gate. 2 AM. Alone.

He was there. The gate creaked open, and Rita emerged, a ghost in the darkness. “What is this?” she whispered, shoving a printout of the email at him. “Why are you sending me this?”

“It’s the truth,” Daniel said. “Everything Eleanor does is about control, about not being that young, broke girl again. She’s not protecting you, Rita. She’s possessing you. You’re just another asset in her portfolio.”

“You don’t know that,” she shot back, but her voice lacked conviction.

“Don’t I?” he pressed, stepping closer. “She has a PI following me. She got a restraining order. She’s using you to hurt me. That’s not love, it’s a chess move. But this,” he said, tapping the article, “this is the one move she never saw coming. It’s her weakness. Her only one.”

Rita looked down at the paper, her mind racing. The story of her mother’s past, a secret so painful it had shaped the entire family’s dynamic, was now in his hands. He wasn’t just offering her a way out; he was offering her a weapon.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“I want you to choose a side,” Daniel said, his voice low and intense. “You can stay in her gilded cage, a pretty little bird she can parade around. Or you can fly. You can help me burn her kingdom to the ground. And then… we can decide what to build from the ashes.”

He closed the small distance between them, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. She was terrified, but she was also alive, her eyes burning with a dangerous, desperate light. In that moment, he knew. She had made her choice.

He crushed his mouth to hers, a kiss that was all hunger and desperation. It wasn’t gentle; it was a sealing of a pact in the only language they had left. He spun her around, pushing her back against the cold, rough brick of the garden wall. His hands were everywhere, tearing at the button of her jeans, shoving them down over her hips. She was already wet for him, her body responding to the raw, forbidden thrill of their rebellion.

He freed himself, his cock hard and insistent, and drove into her with a single, deep thrust that stole the air from her lungs. Her cry was swallowed by his kiss as he began to fuck her with a brutal, urgent rhythm. There was no time for tenderness, no room for soft words. This was a quick, dirty fuck in the shadows of the enemy’s castle, a declaration of war sealed with sweat and flesh. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her nails digging into his back through his shirt, pulling him deeper, urging him on. Each punishing thrust was a promise of vengeance, a shared act of defiance against the woman who sought to own them both.

He felt her tighten around him, her body arching as a silent, shuddering orgasm ripped through her. The feel of her coming undone in his arms sent him over the edge, and he buried his face in her neck, his own release a hot, violent pulse. They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together, their ragged breaths mingling in the cold night air.

He slowly set her down, their bodies separating in the darkness. They didn’t speak. There was nothing left to say. The alliance was sealed.

The Trojan horse has been delivered, and the alliance is forged in fire and flesh. Rita holds the secret that could destroy her mother. Will she choose the safety of the cage or the freedom of the fire?