#Chapter 2: Her Perfection, My Broken Pieces

Rita’s POV

“Wake up. Olive is waiting for her breakfast.”

I cracked my eyes open to find two figures standing over me again. Caspar held a fresh maid’s uniform in one hand, while Cedric leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

“Get dressed,” Caspar ordered, throwing the maid’s uniform at me.

I tried to sit up, but it was no use. My back was still sticky and raw from last night, and my head spun when I tried to move. I immediately groaned and fell back against the pillows.

“What’s wrong with you?” Cedric barked. “We haven’t got all day!”

“If you don’t want to put on the outfit, you could always confess to your crime,” Caspar added.

I shook my head. “I didn’t do it.”

“Then quit whining and get dressed.” Caspar picked up the maid’s uniform and threw it into my lap. “If you don’t want to confess, then you’ll pay an even greater crime than the one you committed.”

"I won't confess." I tried to sound firm, but the words came out weak, slurred. "I think… I've got… a fever." My face was slick with sweat and my nightgown was plastered to my skin.

Cedric and Caspar looked at me, and for a moment, I almost thought the twins who had once been my dearest caretakers might take some pity on me.

That never happened, of course.

Cedric stormed over and grabbed my wrist, hauling me out of bed. I cried out and pitched forward as I felt one of the wounds on my back reopen. Caspar caught me, only to practically shove me away as if I had disgusted him.

I teetered on my feet, but somehow, I managed to stay upright.

“There,” Cedric growled, blue eyes flashing in the light spilling into the closet from the hallway. “You’re perfectly fine. Get dressed. You’re filthy.”

I clutched the uniform to my chest and glanced at the door.

Caspar scoffed. “You think we’re going to let you change with privacy?”

“As if we’d give you the chance to slip more poison in your pocket,” Cedric grunted.

I realized, with horror, that they were going to watch me get dressed. I wanted to tell them that I hadn’t poisoned their precious Olive, but I knew they weren’t going to listen, so I carefully grabbed the hem of my nightgown.

My hands shook. I hesitated, glancing at the twins as my face went aflame.

These were my brothers once. I could handle the pain of being forced to move, but to undress in front of them was an even greater torment.

But they were still staring at me, and I knew they wouldn’t let me get away with it. So I had no choice but to pull the nightgown off over my head, shaking and flushing the entire time.

The agony of each movement, at least, temporarily canceled out the humiliation I felt. The fabric had glued itself to my wounds overnight, sending searing pain spreading across my back as I pulled it off. Once I managed to get it off, arms shaking as I lifted it over my head, I dropped it on the floor and reached for the maid’s uniform.

Cedric and Caspar watched me the whole time with eyes as dark as stormy oceans. Their gazes wandered unabashedly across my semi-nude form, lingering without shame. I flushed deeper as Caspar’s tongue flicked out across his lower lip, and I quickly looked away, jaw clenching.

Animals.

At least I could take comfort in knowing that I would only have to endure this for so much longer—in three days, I would turn eighteen, and the Moon Goddess Luna would bring my fated mate to me. Our wolves would intertwine, and we would mark each other in the sacred way of our ancestors. No man, not even the twins, would be able to touch me other than my mate.

Then, I would be an adult, and I would finally have a legitimate reason to leave and start my own family.

Putting the fresh uniform on my tattered, bruised skin was painstaking, and my fingers barely worked properly to get the buttons done up, but finally, I managed. Cedric and Caspar trailed me like ghosts as I limped to the kitchen down the hall. The other staff stared at me, some hiding their laughter behind their hands, but I ignored them.

I grabbed the ingredients for breakfast—eggs over easy and golden toast buttered to perfection, just the way Olive liked it.

I pulled a pan out of the cupboard and placed it on the stove, then cracked an egg over it. But my hand shook violently, and I shattered the shell in my palm.

Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose. “Clumsy as usual.”

“She’s really useless,” Caspar added snidely. “I’m not sure why we have her do this kind of work when she’s clearly more suited to scullery.”

My cheeks flamed as the other kitchen staff chuckled in response. Tossing the ruined egg in the garbage, I wiped my hand on my apron and reached for another.

Before Olive joined the household, the twins always had the chef prepare a variety of special dishes for me every day; I never even had to set foot in the kitchen. Now, I was the one expected to cook for Olive. She had all sorts of inventive ways to torment me with food.

Once breakfast was prepared, I placed everything on a tray and made my way upstairs. Olive’s room was just down the hall, and the door was slightly ajar when I approached.

I stepped inside to find Olive draped across her bed like a woman in a painting. Her long golden hair was splayed across her pillow, her chiffon nightgown gently billowing around her in the soft breeze blowing in through the window.

Even fresh out of the hospital, she looked perfect.

And here I was, burning with fever as I served her, my back still bleeding from the wounds she'd given me.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

I set the tray down on the table next to her window and waited while the twins gently helped her get up.

This room had once been mine.

The twins hadn’t batted an eye when she took it from me, of course. They had happily footed the bill for all new furniture, and didn’t care in the slightest when she erased everything of mine.

She had even taken down the photo that once hung on my wall of myself and the twins; now, it was replaced with a new, custom portrait of the three of them, painted by the finest artist in the packs.

The only thing that remained of mine in the room was the large stuffed wolf sitting on the bed. Caspar and Cedric had once won it for me at a carnival, and I cherished it.

Now, it belonged to Olive.

Olive’s perfect pink lips curved as she waltzed past me and sat down at the table. She didn’t acknowledge me or say thank you; she just reached for her fork.

But her hand shook, just as mine had with the egg, and she dropped it. The utensil went clattering across the hardwood.

“I’m afraid I can’t manage it on my own,” she whimpered, batting her lashes up at the twins. “Could you…?”

“Of course!” Caspar moved forward without hesitation and picked up a clean utensil while I was left to clean up the discarded one. They took turns feeding her, carefully lifting the food to her mouth just like they had once done with me when I was sick.

She chewed slowly and deliberately behind her delicate fingers, eating at a snail’s pace. The twins thought she was just tired and sick, but I could tell from the way her eyes flicked to me, blonde lashes fluttering, that she was trying to provoke me. She knew I had to stand there at attention while she ate, and my wounds made it incredibly painful.

Finally, Olive finished eating, and the twins helped her back to bed. I cleaned up the crumbs and was about to leave when her soft voice called out to me.

“Get me a glass of water.”

Ducking my head, I grabbed the glass from the tray and filled it in the bathroom. When I returned, I held it out to her.

Just then, a loud clap of thunder struck the sky outside.

Olive screamed and dropped the glass, slamming her hands over her ears. Shards and water went flying everywhere, and all I could do was stare at her.

A memory flashed through my mind: it was Olive’s first week here, when she was still opening up about her tragic past of abuse. Violence, broken objects, thunder—they all triggered a trauma response. During a sudden storm much like this one, she had a panic attack and screamed and cried until the twins climbed into bed with her and fell asleep.

The next day, the twins said she was a pitiful little thing with deep scars, and that she must be handled with the utmost care. I fell for it for a while, too.

But now I knew better.

“Why are you just standing there?!” Caspar shouted, cradling the sobbing Olive against his chest. “Clean that up!”

When I didn’t move fast enough, Cedric curled his lip with anger. “Or confess to your crime.” The command was becoming a broken record now. “Maybe then we won’t make you pick up the pieces.”

I lifted my chin, silently refusing to confess. I’d rather get my hands cut to pieces than confess to a crime I didn’t commit.

I turned to get a broom, but Cedric stepped in my way. His expression was hard and his jaw was feathering like he was holding himself back.

“With your bare hands,” he whispered. His voice was nearly lost below the sound of the sudden rain outside, and somehow, that was even more terrifying than if he had shouted.

I remembered the days when the twins used to comfort me during thunderstorms. Now, I was the one cleaning up. Even with blood on my back and hands, they didn’t pay me any mind.

“P-Please stay with me,” Olive whimpered, clutching at the twins’ shirts. “I-I’m scared…”

“Of course, dear sister.” Cedric scooped her into his arms. “How about a hot bath?”

“T-That would be nice…”

Without hesitation, Cedric carried Olive to the bathroom for a hot bath.

“Change those damp sheets,” Caspar ordered before he followed.

The thunder once scared me, too. It always had ever since I could remember, and it still did. I flinched with each crash, tears pricking my eyes as the sky lit up with bolts of lightning.

But now, I had no choice but to swallow down my fear and pick up the shards of a cup I hadn’t broken.

I knelt beside the mess and began to frantically pick up the shards while the twins glared at me. In my haste, I sliced my palm on a sharp piece, blood immediately beading on the surface of my skin.

At least, now, the agony in my heart briefly overshadowed the pain in my body.

“In just three more days, I will never have to see the Lopez family again,”

I thought to myself.