The doctor asked if I needed anything else. I forced a smile, bitter and metallic on my lips. “Has anyone come to see me?”
“I’m sorry… no one has,” she replied softly.
A chill settled into my chest then—not the kind that makes your skin crawl, but the kind that sinks deep into your bones, leaving a hollow, frozen ache.
When she left, I stared at the blank wall for what felt like hours. Eventually, I shoved the blanket off me. Every movement sent jagged waves of pain through my body, but I ignored it.
“Mrs. Ramirez?” a nurse called as she entered. “You shouldn’t be up and moving. You lost a lot of blood. Your stitches—”
“I’m leaving,” I said, voice flat, cutting her off. “I don’t care that I’m still bleeding. I’m not staying another second.”
She tried to reason with me, worry etched across her face. “You’re not stable enough—”
“I said I’m leaving. Just bring me whatever I need to sign,” I snapped.
She stared at me for a long moment, hesitating, then retreated. A few minutes later, she returned with the discharge papers.
Every step toward the door was agony. My legs trembled, my back screamed, but I forced myself forward.
Halfway down the hall, I saw them. Vincent and Natalia, my twin sister, sitting side by side in another room. Laughing. Smiling. As if nothing had happened. As if my babies had never existed.
I turned away before they could notice me.
They had taken everything from me once. I wasn’t letting them do it again.
This time, I had Percival. The man who concealed an empire behind a polite smile. The man whose name was spoken only in hushed tones, the man who could reduce the entire Ramirez dynasty to ashes without lifting a finger.
I was done being their victim.
Vincent was feeding Natalia soup, that fake gentle smile plastered on his face, the same smile he never bothered to give me. Natalia sat there, fragile-looking but smug, soaking in every bit of attention like she was royalty.
Once, seeing them like this would have shattered me. Now, I felt nothing. I turned to slip past them, but, as usual, luck had other plans.
“Althea?” His voice cut through me. I stiffened, jaw tightening.
I turned slowly, face calm, hiding the storm inside. When our eyes met, I glimpsed a flicker in him—guilt, maybe, like he suddenly remembered I even existed.
“I didn’t realize you were awake,” he stammered, pushing himself upright from the chair beside Natalia. “How are you feeling?”
I didn’t answer. My silence said everything I needed it to.
Vincent’s shoulders slumped. “Your sacrifice… it wasn’t in vain,” he murmured, eyes locking on mine as if trying to force me to believe him. “Natalia’s fine. Her baby is healthy. You saved them both.”
I laughed—sharp, bitter, humorless. He flinched.
Natalia placed her hand gently on her flat stomach, her sweetness feigned. “Vincent hasn’t left me alone for a second. He’s been so good to me.”
I refused to stay and watch their sick charade. I turned to leave, but Vincent sprang to his feet, reaching for me.
“Wait, Althea. Just wait.”
I froze—not because I wanted to, but because I knew how ridiculous it sounded to even consider listening.
“I’m throwing a party tonight,” he blurted. “To celebrate your recovery and Natalia coming home safe. It’s been… difficult. My father will be there. He really wants to see you.”
I said nothing.
He stepped closer, softer now, as if sincerity could make a difference. “Let me drive you home. We’re all going the same way.”
“I’m not going home,” I said flatly. “I’m going to my parents’ vineyard.”
Percival had promised to watch over it once I accepted his offer. It was the only piece of my parents left. Something Vincent could never touch.
“The vineyard? Why?” Vincent blinked, confused.
I tilted my head, keeping my expression icy. “I have business there. None of your concern.”
Natalia’s eyes brightened suddenly, her fake charm on full display. “Perfect timing. I was planning to visit too. After all, it is our parents’ vineyard.”
That caught me off guard. She had always acted like it didn’t matter.
Vincent nodded quickly. “Then we’ll come with you.”
I stared at him, surprised at how eagerly he agreed. The same man who once called the vineyard a waste, a burden, now jumped at the chance to go because Natalia mentioned it.
I allowed a quiet sneer. “Fine. You can come. But there’s one thing I need from you first.”
Vincent straightened, hopeful. “Anything.”
I reached into my bag and pulled out the papers I’d held since he brought Natalia home. Divorce papers.
He took them, brow furrowed. “What’s this?”
“My discharge form,” I said flatly, not meeting his gaze.
He hesitated—always so careful when signing—but glanced at Natalia. She fluttered her lashes, smiled sweetly, and suddenly he forgot all caution.
“I’m tired, Vincent,” she purred. “Let’s go home quickly.”
He nodded, barely glancing at the papers before signing.
The moment his pen lifted, a small, victorious smirk spread across my lips.
“Thank you,” I said, slipping the documents back into my bag. “Now I’m free from you.”
