### Chapter 5
The wounds hadn't finished healing before the fever hit.
Back in the storage room, I held on to consciousness long enough to dial my father and tell him what I'd learned about ten years ago：
“Dad, Old Mr. Delgado's security has always been airtight. There's no way a lone orphan like Wendy could have arranged that assassination by herself. Please look into it for me.”
His voice dropped instantly：“I'll get on it right now. Zara, your voice sounds wrong. Are you……”
“I'm fine.” I cut him off. “I'll wait for your call.”
The line went dead, and the last of my strength went with it. I collapsed onto the cot, consciousness drifting at the edge of darkness.
Dawn had barely broken when the door slammed open.
Otto's tall frame filled the doorway, radiating fury, and he hauled me off the bed.
“This is your fault. Wendy's having nightmares every single night now. If this keeps up, she could lose the baby.”
“Go apologize to her.”
I stared at him in disbelief：“Apologize to the woman who butchered my child? Not a chance.”
“Stubborn as always.”
A cold smirk crossed his face. He took out his phone, dialed, and turned the screen toward me.
The moment I saw what was on it, my whole body went rigid.
The camera showed the ground beside my child's headstone. Several of Otto's men stood there with shovels and pickaxes, and one of them spoke into the lens：“Boss, want us to start? Everything's ready.”
I stared at the screen, nails biting into my palms. That was his child buried there too.
But the look in Otto's eyes was nothing but ice：
“Refuse, and you can say goodbye to your child forever.”
I knew he meant it. I just never imagined he could be this cruel to me.
In the end, swallowing hatred so hot it scalded, I nodded.
The master bedroom had once been mine. Now it was repainted in the soft pink Wendy loved best, every trace of me erased, the room as unrecognizable as the first half of my life.
Wendy lounged on the bed looking thoroughly pleased with herself, and I forced the words out through clenched teeth：
“……I'm sorry.”
Wendy pouted, unsatisfied：“One little 'sorry' is supposed to make up for what I've been through? If sorry was enough, what would we even need cops for?”
My nails dug deeper into my palms. Behind me, Otto's cold voice came again：
“Kneel. Bow to Wendy and beg her forgiveness.”
He raised his phone again. The screen still showed the live feed from the grave.
My knees hit the floor hard. Then my forehead cracked against the tile.
Once, twice, three times……I couldn't feel the pain anymore. I kept going until I'd struck my head against the ground more than a dozen times.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have provoked you.”
“I'm sorry. I'll step aside for you two……”
“Enough!”
A hand clamped around my arm and Otto yanked me to my feet.
He saw the blood seeping from my forehead and frowned.
“If you'd been this obedient from the start, you could've saved yourself the suffering. Go. Have a doctor put something on that.”
“Mm.”
I lowered my eyes, fighting the dizziness, and walked back to the storage room in silence.
The door opened again. Otto had followed me in. He tossed a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of gauze into my arms, his tone flat：“I'm throwing Wendy a baby shower the day after tomorrow. Behave yourself, and I'll give you a reward.”
He turned to leave, and I called after him before he could.
“I promise I won't cause any more trouble.” I lifted my head, voice meek. “I want a car. Will you get me one?”
His steps faltered. He turned back, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
In all these years, I had never once asked him for anything.
His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, scrutinizing, before the familiar need to control won out.
“Fine.”
I pulled the documents from my bag immediately, flipped to the signature page, and held them out.
“I've already picked the car. Just sign and pay.”
