LENA’S POV
I was being discharged from the hospital today and Marcelo had no idea. I had been stuck here for four days and Marcelo had visited me only once. And even then, he had barely spared me ten minutes, claiming he had more "pressing operations" to attend to. I scoffed bitterly, shaking my head.
I looked down at the date on my phone and felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. Today was our relationship anniversary.
Of course he wouldn't remember our anniversary
- not when he was too busy cozying up to that little snake, Francine.
As I made my way out to the front of the hospital, I spotted my mother waiting for me by her car, looking concerned. She never left my side all these days.
"Mija, are you ready to go home?" she asked gently.
I hesitated, staring down at the crumpled discharge papers. "Actually, Mama, I... don't think I want to go back to the mansion just yet.I can't stand the thought of seeing Francine and her mom’s face right now."
Mom frowned. "But mija, that's your home. Where else would you go?"
"I'll stay in a hotel for the night," I replied. "But I'd like to go to Marcelo's place first. I need to grab some of my things."
Her brow furrowed, but she didn't argue, simply nodding and ushering me into the car. The drive to Marcelo's extravagant mansion was silent, except my occasional sniffling here and there as I fought to keep my emotions in check.
When we arrived at the mansion, I told her to wait outside while I went in to collect my belongings. I was determined to pack every single thing that belonged to me.
As I walked towards the entrance, Marcelo's guards looked hesitant to let me in. I glared at them. "Get out of my way."
They stepped aside, and I stormed into the house.
I spotted Marcelo and Francine sitting at the dining table, having a grand feast.
Marcelo was laughing and chatting with her, completely carefree. He didn't even remember our anniversary, but he was celebrating with my half-sister?
As I listened in, he praised her, calling her a "bad ass" who had outsmarted some guys and secured a great deal. He said she was meant to be a mafia queen. I rolled my eyes in disgust.
Francine's annoying laughter rang out, and I had to resist the urge to go drag her by her stupid red hair.
And then the final blow - Francine casually mentioned that she might be pregnant.
I felt the blood draining from my face as I watched Marcelo's face light up with pride, pulling Francine close and kissing her forehead. This was the same man who had forced me to terminate every single one of our pregnancies. But here he was, overjoyed at the prospect of having a child with her.
I had to clench my fists to keep from losing it right then and there.
I carefully stepped into the dining room, striving to look calm.
Marcelo sprang to his feet, a look of surprise on his face. "Wow, Lena, when did you get discharged?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
I scoffed. "How would you know hmm? You were too busy with dear Francine to even bother visiting me in the hospital."
Francine, who was watching the exchange with a sly smile on her face, raised an eyebrow. Marcelo, however, looked taken aback. "Oh no, it's not like that, darling," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "We're just celebrating because we landed a major business deal worth millions."
"Oh, is that so?" I asked not hiding the sarcasm in my voice.
He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, and you should come sit with us and celebrate. Francine is your sister, after all, and her win is yours too."
I laughed harshly. "Francine is not my sister," I spat. "She's a product of a mistress, a woman who destroyed our family with her selfishness and greed. And now, it looks like she wants to follow in her mother's footsteps and become a mistress herself."
Francine's face turned red with anger, and she dramatically clutched at her chest. "How could you be so mean, Lena?"
Marcelo shot me a stern look. "Come on, you need to apologize to Francine,"
I rolled my eyes. "I don't have time for this," I said, turning to walk away.
Francine kicked the chair back noisily and rose to her feet. "I'm leaving," she said with a huff. "I won't be disrespected by this little twig."
Marcelo rushed after her, calling out apologies and reassurances. I watched them go, shaking my head.
Walking to my room, I grabbed my suitcase and started loading my things in it. I was leaving this pathetic excuse of a man right now.
