4

Chapter 4

Dolly POV

The door slammed shut, leaving behind a silence that ate at my skin and left nothing but goosebumps behind.

They were gone. All of them. Except Cassidy, she hadn’t moved.

She stood still, her back turned to me, her shoulders shaking with what I thought were sobs. My throat burned from crying. My legs trembled and I fought the urge to go down to the ground in shame.

“Cass…” I choked out, dragging the sheet tighter around me. “Please, I swear on everything—I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember how I got here. I didn’t touch him, I didn’t do anything. It's really not my fault.”

She turned around slowly. And wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

But something in her face had changed.

She wasn’t crying anymore. There was no heartbreak, no pain, no confusion. Only amusement, Annoyed amusement.

She gave a long, dramatic sigh like she was tired of pretending. “God, you’re so dumb.”

My brows furrowed. “W-what?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” she asked, her voice smooth and clear now, “I planned this. All of it.”

I stared at her, mouth parting, heart thudding in disbelief.

“You think I actually want to marry this useless nameless comatose, wheelchair-bound bastard?” she laughed bitterly, tossing her hair back. “He was just a deal, a damn name in exchange for a tiny contract. But you? You were easy. Always so desperate to be accepted, to belong. The little invisible mouse in the house of lions.”

I shook my head slowly. “Cassidy… no. You’re not serious. You—”

“I’m dead serious,” she cut in, eyes glittering with cruelty. “And your greedy best friend Amira? She made everything easier. A little money here, a little lie there. Boom. You’re naked in his bed like the tragic heroine you are.”

My knees nearly gave out. “No. Amira wouldn’t, she’s my friend. My best friend.” I said it like I wanted to believe it.

Cassidy smiled. “Keep telling yourself that.”

I took a step back. “Why… why would you do this to me?”

She sighed and looked toward the door. “God, Mom is such a performer. I almost teared up at her speech. And Dad? So gullible. One look at my tears and he’s ready to exile his own daughter.”

“Cassidy, stop, please stop, this can’t be real…”

She stepped closer, eyes narrow with disgust. “It’s been my dream to get rid of you for a long time. You were always the stain in this family. The charity case. So, when the marriage proposal came, I saw my chance. Funny enough, I didn't have to do much, just plan and play pretend. You walked straight into it. Now, the deal and money is all ours.”

Tears streamed freely down my face now. “What did I ever do to deserve this? Why do you and Mom hate me so much? I tried, I always tried to fit in, to be good enough—”

“You were never good enough!” she snapped. “You were the mistake that should’ve stayed buried. Always in my way. Always trying to be the better daughter, how dare you.”

My voice rose, cracked, desperate. “So you ruin my life?! Just like that? Because I existed?! You don’t get to—”

My face whipped to the side as a hard slap landed on my cheek

Pain exploded in my cheek, spreading to my jaw and I knew there was going to be a red mark there.

I staggered again, hand flying up to the sting.

Cassidy strolled over to a nearby corner of the room, crouched, and opened a velvet box.

She pulled out something small and black; sleek, with blinking red lights.

A recorder.

I froze. “What… what is that?”

She grinned and held it up like a trophy. “Evidence. You think I’d do all this without covering my tracks?”

“Evidence of what?! I didn’t do anything!”

She leaned in close, her perfume added to the unease my chest already felt. “You didn’t need to. A few secret clips of you naked on the same bed with your unconscious sister's fiancé. Maybe a little editing here and there… and suddenly, the whole world sees what kind of girl you really are.”

My blood turned to ice. “No…”

“Oh yes,” she whispered. “So here’s what you’re going to do. You’ll marry him. Be his sweet little nurse-wife, spoon-feed him your pity. And then you’ll disappear. You would not dare start any scandal,.or try to find your way out of this.”

I could barely breathe.

“If you even try to fight back, or ever open your mouth about any of this?” She waved the recorder casually. “You’ll be all over the news by the next morning. Let's see how the world and father would take seeing your nudeness all over the news”

My world tilted. My skin felt cold even under the heavy sheet.

“You’re a monster,” I whispered.

She gave me that long, satisfied smile; the kind that curled slow and cruel. “No, Dolly. I’m a survivor. You and I both know what that means. But you?” Her eyes glinted. “You’re the perfect scapegoat. Mine. And Mom’s.”

She turned and walked out, each step was louder than the last; like a slap to my face, like she knew she had won. My eyes watered and the door clicked shut, the silence swallowing me whole.

My knees gave out and I collapsed to my knees. Right there on the cold, polished floor, I’d dropped, my fists clenched against the tiles like I could hold myself together. My chest burned. My throat closed. I tried to swallow the sobs; God, I tried to force the tears in, tried to stop the aching in my heart, it only took one nigtbfot my entire life to turn upside down.

It had only taken one night. One stupid night to ruin everything.

I turned my head slowly, vision smeared in tears. My swollen eyes landed on the man lying motionless in the bed. The same man who once belonged to Cassidy. The man who, by tomorrow, would belong to me.

I stared at him like maybe he’d vanish if I looked hard enough. “What did you do to deserve this?” I rasped. “Or maybe the real question is… what the hell did I do?”

I crawled toward the bed, each movement heavy, like dragging guilt across my back. And then I did something that made no sense; I hit him.

My fists; weak, shaking, smacked against his unmoving bare chest. “I hate you,” I cried, teeth clenched. “I don’t even know you, and I hate you. I hate that you’re here. I hate that you exist. I hate you.”

I hit multiple times, and on the sixth blow, he moved. No, not moved. He caught me.

His hand snapped up, firm and warm, wrapping around my wrist mid-air. My breath ripped from my lungs. My entire body froze.

I stared at him, heart slamming inside my ribs. He opened his eyes.

And in a voice so low, it slithered through my spine, he said, “Is hitting a man in a coma how you usually pass time?”

My mouth fell open. “Oh my God. He's awake.”