Briana Bond POV:
Gabriel' s eyes, still burning with cold fury, turned on me. "Will you ever change, Briana?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Will you ever stop being this… problem?" He took a step closer, his eyes challenging. "You know, if I truly cast you out, you wouldn't survive a day outside my family's protection." He paused, letting the threat hang heavy in the air. Then, he delivered the final, devastating blow. "The engagement is off. Permanently."
Emmanuel, still trembling with anger, staggered back, his face ashen. He pointed a shaking finger at Gabriel. "You fool!" he rasped, his voice full of disbelief and heartbreak. "You ungrateful, blind fool! How could you forget everything they did for you?" But before he could finish, before he could say another word, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the floor.
Panic, raw and visceral, tore through me. "Emmanuel!" I screamed, instinctively trying to rise from the bed. My leg, still a raw wound, screamed back in protest. I stumbled, collapsing back onto the mattress, fresh agony ripping through me. Tears, hot and desperate, streamed down my face. "Please, Gabriel," I choked out, reaching for him. "Let me go to him! Please!" My tears mingled with the fresh blood seeping from my wound, creating dark, ugly splotches on the pristine white sheets.
Gabriel looked at me, his eyes filled with absolute loathing. He roughly pushed my outstretched hand away, as if my touch were poison. "You disgust me, Briana," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "Look what you've done. You've made him sick! You're despicable!" He turned away, his back a cold, unyielding wall, and followed the doctors who were rushing to Emmanuel' s side. "Keep her locked in here," he ordered his security detail, his voice cold and devoid of any human warmth. "Don't let her leave this room."
Soon after, Gabriel's parents arrived, their faces grim. His father, a formidable man with a perpetually stern expression, immediately turned on Gabriel. "Gabriel!" he bellowed, his voice filled with a familiar fury. "What is the meaning of this? If Emmanuel doesn't recover, you will face the consequences!"
His mother, a refined woman with sharp, calculating eyes, quickly stepped in, placing a calming hand on her husband's arm. "Dear, please. Not now."
But Candace, still nursing her bruised lip, seized the moment. "Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Payne," she began, her voice quivering with false distress. "It was all so sudden. Briana... she caused such a fuss, and Gabriel, he just said a few words, and then Mr. Robbins collapsed. I truly believe she brings chaos wherever she goes."
Gabriel' s father' s face hardened, his eyes turning to ice. "This orphan," he muttered, his voice laced with disdain, "has brought nothing but trouble since she stepped foot in this house."
His mother scoffed, her lip curling. "She's become so arrogant since we took her in," she sneered, her gaze sweeping over me with contempt. "She thinks she's one of us."
Gabriel flinched, a flicker of discomfort in his eyes. "Mother, Father," he interjected, his voice tight. "Let's not forget what her parents did for us."
His father cut him off sharply. "That was one act of kindness, Gabriel! It doesn't mean we should tolerate her endless dramatics. She's impudent, reckless, and completely unsuitable for our family. Cancel the engagement. Send her away."
Gabriel initially recoiled, the words "cancel the engagement" a jarring blow. He only wanted to scare me, to make me see reason. He never truly wanted to cast me out. The thought of me, injured and alone, without his protection, sent a strange pang through his chest.
But Candace, sensing his hesitation, whispered urgently in his ear. "Gabriel, don't upset your parents. There's plenty of time. We can send her abroad for her 'treatment,' let her cool down. She's become too dependent on you, that's why she's so spoiled. This will teach her some independence. We can always reconsider after Mr. Robbins recovers."
His mother' s eyes lit up. "Yes! That's an excellent idea, Candace! We'll make arrangements immediately." Both his parents looked eager, almost desperate, to get rid of me.
Gabriel looked at Candace, a wave of gratitude washing over him. He squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Candace," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "Even after everything, you still think of her."
Candace offered him a sweet, angelic smile. "She just makes poor judgments, Gabriel. I don't hold it against her."
The next few days felt like a suffocating blur. I was confined to the hospital room, a prisoner in my own pain. No one visited except the hurried nurses. I spent most of my time staring at the ceiling or aimlessly scrolling through my phone. My photo gallery was a painful testament to my past: hundreds of pictures of Gabriel and me. In the beginning, it was just us, happy and in love, or so I believed. Then, Candace started appearing in every photo, a constant shadow in our lives.
I then navigated to my social media accounts. Every post, every caption, every carefully curated image revolved around him, a desperate plea for his affection. The comments, even from strangers, mocked my blatant obsession. My adoration, my desperation, was public fodder. I let out a bitter, joyless laugh. Obsessed. They weren't wrong.
I shook my head, my eyes burning. There was no point in keeping them. No point in clinging to a past that was so utterly broken. With a decisive swipe, I hit the 'delete account' button. Everything-all those carefully preserved memories, all those desperate proclamations of love-vanished into the digital ether. It was a strange, chilling sense of emptiness. And a profound, unexpected freedom.
