Portia grew increasingly pleased with herself, her satisfaction evident in every word. "I have to admit, my decision was spot on. He’s far better than Ivan in every possible way. It’s just a pity that once the tool ran out, I was dragged back to the original world."
Her smile deepened, a trace of something darker behind her eyes. "But since I love him, I couldn’t bear to stay away. So, I found a way to return to this world. And seeing you in such misery... it fills me with such satisfaction."
"Truthfully, I didn’t want to go after you, but you kept standing in my way, ruining everything. You even made me lose face in front of everyone!"
Dorothy froze and fragments of the past surged through her mind.
She remembered a girl who would visit Ivan at the hospital, bringing him gifts. At first, Dorothy had assumed the girl was just a friend. But then Ivan had told her the truth, that she was no friend at all.
Ivan had always been distant from that girl, showing nothing but indifference. Yet, she clung to him like a shadow, even daring to force her way into his room while he rested.
At first, Dorothy had only tried to advise the girl gently, but soon, she realized something far darker had happened; the girl had somehow caused Ivan to fall unconscious and even touched him. That was when Dorothy had snapped, throwing the girl out without a second thought.
She had never imagined that girl was Portia.
Nor could she have known that Portia would harbor such deep resentment over it.
Seeing Dorothy’s stunned silence, Portia’s tone grew colder, her words cutting deeper. "Let me spell it out for you, Dorothy. Everything you’re going through now is your fault. After all, you were the one who got in my way back then."
A cruel smile curled Portia’s lips. "But I do owe you a thank you. If it weren’t for you, I never would have switched my target to Kyrie. He treats me so well... and he’s far more satisfying than your short-lived brother. I…"
"Shut up!"
Dorothy’s vision blurred with rage as she charged forward, her hand connecting with Portia’s cheek in a stinging slap.
Portia stood frozen for a moment, eyes wide. "You dare slap me?"
"What are you doing, Dorothy!"
The sudden roar from behind shattered the moment. Before Dorothy could react, she was shoved into the bushes, her face scraping against sharp rose thorns that tore at her skin, drawing fresh blood.
"Kyrie, thank goodness you’re here!" Portia rushed into Kyrie’s arms, feigning distress. Though she wasn’t hurt in the slightest, she cried with a dramatic flair, clutching him like a lifeline.
Kyrie’s cold gaze locked onto Dorothy, his voice seething with anger. "Dorothy, you’ve become bold, haven’t you?"
Dorothy gritted her teeth, ignoring the sharp sting on her face as she pushed herself up. "Kyrie, don’t be fooled by her. She’s not who she seems..."
Before she could finish, Kyrie’s hand connected with her cheek in another slap, this time gripping her chin with a vice-like hold. "I told you, no tricks. Apologize to Portia right now."
Dorothy’s heart bled just as her cheek did and with fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms, she glared at Kyrie with defiance. "I won’t apologize!"
Kyrie’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing within them. "Are you sure?"
Dorothy’s fingers, icy and trembling, turned pale from the force of her grip, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "Kyrie, why won’t you trust me? Portia isn’t who she seems. She’s the one pulling the strings!"
"Enough of your nonsense!"
"Since you refuse to listen, I’ll make you see sense!" With that, Kyrie wrenched Dorothy up.
As soon as she was on her feet, a sharp, searing pain ripped through her abdomen, followed by a warm, unwanted rush.
Her period had come.
"Let go of me!" Dorothy fought with all her strength, but Kyrie’s grip was unrelenting, and in the end, he dragged her toward the edge of the swimming pool, her body a captive to his force.
