“For god’s sake, Ayla!” Bennett yelled. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble? How could you lay a hand on a child that small?”
“I-I didn’t…” she murmured, her voice trembling, her protest so faint it was barely there.
Hearing the commotion, Vayda came stumbling down the stairs. She practically tripped in her rush to get to the boy, scooping him into her arms the moment she reached him.
“Aston, what happened?” she asked, panic written all over her face. “Let Mommy see.”
The moment she noticed his swollen ankle, her eyes filled with tears and turned to Ayla. Her voice trembled as she muttered, “Ayla… I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken your room. And I never should’ve said Aston only likes me and not you.”
She bent her knees, about to kneel in apology.
But Bennett reached out and stopped her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. What are you apologizing for?”
Ayla slowly turned to him. His expression was unreadable—complex and dark—but all the tenderness he once showed her had long vanished.
Vayda’s tone was firm when she spoke again. “Aston means everything to me. I won’t let anyone hurt him. If you can’t accept us, Ayla, then we’ll just leave.”
The more sincere she sounded, the heavier the guilt weighed on Bennett. His gaze flicked back and forth between the two women until his eyes finally settled on the wound on Ayla’s forehead.
For a brief moment, something close to regret flashed across his face—but it disappeared almost immediately.
“You’re an adult,” he said with a sigh. “Why stoop to a child’s level?”
Ayla stood there, soaked to the bone, her hair matted to her skin, her face pale and cold.
She looked absolutely wrecked.
Still, she lifted her chin stubbornly and met his gaze. “What if I said he fell on his own? Would you believe me?”
Bennett’s brows knitted in displeasure. “Come on, actions have consequences. Take responsibility for what you’ve done.”
Then he turned to his men. “Take her to the basement. Don’t let her out until she realizes her mistake.”
But Ayla didn’t move. She just stared at him and said quietly, “Bennett… that makes ninety-seven times.”
He paused, caught off guard. “Ninety-seven?”
But before she could explain, Aston burst into tears.
Bennett didn’t spare her another glance. With a simple wave of his hand, he signaled his men to drag her away.
She wanted to ask him why—why he always chose someone else over her, why it was always her who had to endure.
But in the end, she said nothing. She was too afraid. Not of him but of the dark.
And Bennett knew that.
He knew about how the orphanage traumatized her, how the staff used to punish her by locking her in tiny cupboards, how the darkness had left her terrified ever since.
He knew it all.
Back then, he had pulled her into his arms, gently whispering promises.
“Nothing like that would ever happen again. As long as you’re with me, you’ll never be in the dark. I will always be your light.”
She scoffed inwardly. ‘Joke’s on me, those promises are nothing but words now.’
She knew—there was no going back anymore.
In the days that followed, Bennett never once came to see her in the basement.
Whether it was on Vayda’s orders or not, even the maids and the security stopped treating her like a human being. They cut her meals down from three a day to barely a sip of water.
Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as if filled with lead. Every blink dragged like slow motion, and with each passing hour, the world seemed to grow dimmer.
In those hours, there was only one hope—the Raffertys. She wanted to call Callan and ask for some updates, but the basement had no signal. Her phone had long since died and shut off.
Eventually, her body couldn’t take it anymore—and she passed out.
When she came to, the sharp scent of disinfectant filled her nose. Her vision blurred as she stared blankly at the ceiling.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed hers where there was no IV.
“Oh, thank God,” Bennett murmured, pulling her hand to his cheek. “Love, you’re awake. You’re finally awake!”
His voice trembled with relief, as if he’d been holding it in for days.
From the moment she collapsed, he had been so scared he might lose her, he stayed at her side, not leaving even once. Not even to sleep.
Seeing her expression so calm and distant, he hesitated as if he knew what she was thinking.
“I.. I know everything now,” he said gently. “Everything Vayda did.”
Ayla turned her face slightly toward him. A faint, sarcastic smile tugged at her lips. “So what do you plan to do about it? Mistakes come with punishment, right?”
“Vayda only did it for Aston,” he answered, his tone light. “I already spoke to her. She promised it won’t happen again.”
Ayla let out a dry, hollow laugh, but there was no amusement in it. “So I ended up in the hospital… all because of her good intentions?”
Bennett faltered for a moment.
“I know you’ve been wronged,” he said soothingly. “But… you still owe her an apology. If not for her, Aston wouldn’t be such a well-behaved child.”
Those words hit her like ice water to the face.
She began to tremble in rage, barely managing to keep her voice from breaking. “So you’re saying… after everything she’s done to me, I’m the one who needs to apologize?”
There was a sharp edge in her voice now, laced with disbelief—like she had just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world.
Seeing her whole body shaking, Bennett didn’t dare push further. Instead, he gently pulled her into his arms, trying to calm her.
But to Ayla, the whole thing felt absurd.
That sentence echoed over and over in her mind.
‘I didn’t—I didn’t do anything wrong! So why the hell do I have to apologize?!’
Perhaps worried she might harm herself, Bennett stayed in the hospital, personally taking care of her.
He made her some comforting soup, fed her spoon by spoon, brought her water, stood guard at the bathroom door while she bathed. He insisted on doing everything himself, down to the smallest detail.
Every time a nurse walked by and saw how “devoted” he was, they’d sigh with admiration at how in love they seemed.
If he gave that kind of devotion years ago, Ayla would have blushed and smiled behind her hand. He would’ve teased her for it, and she would’ve quietly enjoyed it.
But now, all she felt was emptiness.
She didn’t want to talk to Bennett anymore, so she picked up her phone instead.
There were dozens of unread messages, over thirty of them from the same unknown number.
[Baby, you’re really going to marry me? You have no idea how you made me so happy!]
[I’ve wired a million to your account. Treat yourself to a spa or something, okay?]
[I haven’t heard from you for days now. Everything alright there, baby?]
[Don’t scare me. I can’t wait seven days. I’m coming to get you myself.]
There was also one from Callan.
[Ma’am, Sir Brynn is losing his mind. He’s already on his way to find you.]
Seeing her glued to her phone, Bennett assumed she was still upset.
He leaned in slightly, trying to coax her. “Still mad?” he asked gently. “Aston’s still young. His father helped me a lot… and he only really trusts Vayda. Can’t you just hold on a little long—”
Before he could finish, his eyes happened to catch a glimpse of her screen.
“Ayla,” he said sharply, “who’s coming to see you?”
Before she could answer, his own phone rang.
One glance at it and he was on his feet, grabbing his coat. “Something urgent came up at the company. I have to go. I’ll come pick you up later,” he said in one breath.
And with that—the only devoted family of the patient rushed out, leaving her alone inside.
