Victor closed the door behind him, his expression painted with guilt, yet those familiar, cutting eyes never softened.
“Valeria,” he murmured, rubbing his temples as if I were the source of his pain. “I only said those things because Marcella’s been struggling. She needed support. Maybe you could try to see it from her side.”
I let out a bitter laugh, broken and hollow. “See it from her side? After everything she’s done, after everything I’ve lost, you expect me to sympathize with her?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice into a faux gentleness. “About the inheritance… don’t you think you should just hand it to her? The papers will be signed soon, and honestly, Valeria, you’ve never been good with business. At least she might make something of it.”
A dull ache spread through me. Not surprise—just the sting of old wounds ripped open again.
I had grown accustomed to this—his words, his manipulation, the way he always turned the story so I looked unreasonable. I remembered the nights he swore he’d whisk me away for our anniversary, the days he promised to introduce me proudly as his wife, the whispered promises of “next time” that never came. I had believed him. I thought it was loyalty. I thought it was love. But now I realized it had been nothing but blindness.
Victor dug into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. “I was planning our wedding in five days,” he said softly, almost pleading. “It was meant to be a surprise, but maybe knowing will calm you. The ring is real this time, Valeria—not fake. We’ll make this official. Merge the families. Please.”
His words hung in the air, insubstantial, like smoke slipping through my fingers. A part of me—weak, foolish, still aching—remembered the man I once thought loved me. But it was an illusion. He never wanted me. He wanted my inheritance. My father’s favor.
Even my brothers—Adrian and Leo—I had believed they loved me. Protected me. Cherished me. But now I could see clearly: they smiled because Father had favored me, because I held everything in my hands. It was envy, disguised as familial loyalty.
And Marcella… I had trusted her, shared secrets, defended her, covered for her when Father was angry. I thought sisters were meant to protect each other. But maybe she stayed close because I was useful. Because I shielded her. Because she could laugh in Victor’s arms when I wasn’t looking. How long had it been happening? How many “busy nights” were really spent with her?
I had believed he was building a future with me. I cooked meals that went cold, celebrated birthdays alone, lit candles on anniversaries by myself, thinking he was just working hard. But he wasn’t busy—he was lying. Cheating. Building a life without me.
He added softly, almost pleading, “Marcella is unwell. She needs us. We need her back in the family.”
I shook my head, tears stinging. “Unwell? You blamed me for everything I never did. I didn’t scam anyone. I lost our baby, and you—”
Before I could finish, Marcella’s scream shattered the air.
“Help me! Victor!”
He spun instantly, sprinting toward her cry, leaving me frozen. Always her. Never me.
I clenched my fists and swallowed the sob that rose in my throat. Fine. Let him run to her. Let them all. I didn’t care anymore.
I returned to my room, wiped my face, and struck a match. A candle flickered, soft and trembling. I set it before me and whispered a prayer for the child I never knew, the one stolen before I could even hold it. My lips quivered.
“My baby… I’m sorry. I should’ve protected you.”
The flame blurred as fresh tears burned my eyes.
Then, heavy footsteps pounded the floor. The door burst open.
Adrian stormed in, his face dark, his hand gripping my wrist. “Come with me.”
I struggled. “What are you doing?”
“You share her blood,” he said flatly. “She needs it. You’re going to give it.”
“No! I won’t—”
Before I could finish, a fist struck me. Leo’s fist. My head snapped to the side, spinning. Pain shot through my skull. Before I could scream, darkness swallowed me whole.
When I came to, the world was a blur. Bright lights above stabbed at my eyes. My arms felt heavy, my veins screaming with every pulse.
I tilted my head weakly and realized… tubes were attached to me. They were drawing my blood.
“No…” My voice barely rose above a whisper.
Nearby, a doctor’s voice rang in alarm. “We can’t take any more! She’s already too weak from the accident. If we push further, she won’t survive!”
“Drain it all!” Victor’s voice thundered, cold and merciless. “I don’t care if she dies!”
My lips trembled. He wanted this.
Adrian’s voice followed, harsh and bitter. “Make her weak. Sick enough she can’t resist. Enough so she suffers.”
Leo’s low, cruel laugh added, “Yes. Then we take everything.”
The words cut deeper than the needles piercing my veins. My chest heaved. My vision darkened. I wanted to scream, to fight, to curse them—but my body betrayed me. I was weak, helpless, trapped.
Edges of light bled into black. The voices faded, distant and hollow.
And then… nothing.
