"Ah!"
"Brother Maverick, it hurts. Alina’s in so much pain!"
The moment Alina let out that sharp, pitiful cry, Maverick, who hadn't lifted a finger to stop me until now, finally snapped. He turned and shoved me hard onto the coffee table.
The glass beneath me shattered instantly, and my body crashed into the shards.
Bright red blood oozed out, but I felt no pain. Instead, I let out a bitter, broken laugh.
I remembered those days when I used to cook for Maverick, and once. At the same time, chopping vegetables, I accidentally nicked my finger. It bled just a little, but he panicked like mad.
He scooped me up in his arms, rushed me to the hospital, and insisted only the best doctor treat the tiny wound.
But now, that tenderness, that love, he had given it all to someone else.
"Ariella, don’t go too far."
"I’ve held back because of what happened to your father, but don’t think I don’t have limits."
"Hahaha! You tolerated me? Maverick, you threw my mother off a building. You left her disabled. And you dare say you tolerated me?"
I stood slowly, letting the glass dig deeper into my skin, piercing through me inch by inch.
I welcomed the pain, used it to remind myself never to love him again, to carve a clear boundary between us.
When Maverick saw the shards embedded in my body, he froze.
"Ariella, don’t use your body to punish me. Until this matter is settled, I won’t care."
Whether he cared or not no longer mattered.
I had nothing left to prove to him.
All I needed now was to find my mother.
"Ariella, I didn’t mean to kill your father. I just panicked and ran. Can’t you forgive me?"
"I’ll kneel and apologize to you."
The moment she said that she made a show of lowering herself in front of me.
But I had seen the truth with my own eyes that night, the night I went to confront her.
She had been laughing and smoking with her friends, dancing like nothing ever happened.
I heard her say my father was just some old man who refused to die, and that his blood had stained the luxury car Maverick gave her.
I saw them laugh, mocking how my father had struggled before he died as if it were some cruel joke.
If not for that night, I might’ve believed she was simply scared.
"If you know you committed a crime, then don’t kneel in front of me, go turn yourself into the police!"
Alina clutched her cheek and burst into tears on the spot, looking so pitiful, as if I had been the one bullying her.
Maverick’s face darkened instantly. Without hesitation, he raised his hand and struck me.
"You already hit her with a vase. Why are you still pushing her, hitting her?"
That slap was clean, decisive. It erased everything that had ever existed between us.
There was nothing left. No bond. No warmth. No love.
I turned away, my white dress soaked in blood.
Maverick used to love seeing me in white. He’d lift me in his arms, spin me around, and call me his little girl forever.
But all those once-sweet memories unraveled in a flash, rewound into nothingness.
"Maverick, we’re over. You walk your sunny path; I’ll walk my lone wooden bridge."
"Whatever."
Maverick carried the perfectly unharmed Alina in his arms and walked out.
I didn’t waste a second grieving alone. Instead, I rushed straight to the hospital to search for my mother.
But after combing through every hospital in the city, I still couldn’t find her.
That’s when it hit me. Maverick must’ve hidden her.
I picked up my phone, furrowed my brows, and dialed his number.
"Maverick, where did you hide my mother? Don’t you dare take this any further!"
On the other end, I could hear the clink of glass as he swirled his wine, his tone colder than steel.
"Until you hand over the evidence, you’ll never see your mother again."
