Ch-7

•~•Aziel’s POV

I wheeled myself out of the suite and into the empty hallway, closing the door behind me. Then I stopped.

A sharp breath left my lips as I clenched the armrest of my wheelchair. My heart pounded, my pulse uneven—not from exertion but from anger.

At myself.

At all the lies.

At the performance I had to put on again, right in front of her.

First, I had to pretend I didn’t know who she really was. I let her believe she fooled me when she came back as Solane Blackwood.

Then I had to pretend I didn’t hear her conversation with her father, the one where she made her intentions painfully clear.

“To get my revenge on the Grants, I first need to make Nathaniel fall in love with Solane Blackwood. Only then can I use him to destroy both him and his mother.”

She had no idea the man she married for revenge wasn’t even Nathaniel Grant.

And yet… I let her go on believing it.

Because I wanted her to hate me.

I wanted her to play her vengeance game while I helped her from the shadows, even if it meant ruining myself in the process. It was the price I had to pay.

Five years ago, I deceived her—pretending to be my brother—and I failed to protect her from my mother.

So… fair was fair.

But she just had to stumble upon one of the secrets I couldn’t afford for her to know—That I could walk.

And now, I had just gaslighted her into believing she dreamed it.

A bitter laugh almost slipped from my lips. My hands curled into fists.

I hated this.

I hated that I had to do this again.

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Flashback

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“You can—”

She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before I moved.

Swift. Precise.

The edge of my hand struck the side of her neck in one clean motion. A technique I had learned as a teenager. A brachial stun.

Her body went limp instantly. Her consciousness snuffed out like a candle.

I caught her before she hit the ground. 

For a second, I just stood there, my arms tightened around her, feeling the faint rise and fall of her chest.

My jaw clenched.

She felt so small. So fragile.

A lump formed in my throat as I lowered us both to the ground, still holding her close.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Over and over again.

I exhaled sharply then carried her back inside, laying her down on the bed.

I brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, my fingers lingering for a second too long.

Then I forced myself to pull away but kept my gaze on her.

She would wake up soon, and when she did, she wouldn’t remember my hand striking her neck—one of the effects of the Brachial stun.

She wouldn’t remember anything—except, of course, the last thing she saw before it hit—me standing on the balcony.

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Flashback Ends

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A sharp ringing snapped me back to the present.

I exhaled slowly, pushing down the emotions clawing at my chest. My fingers tightened around the phone as I glanced at the caller ID.

My jaw tensed.

Of course, it was her.

I had been expecting this call since last night.

I swiped to answer, bringing the phone to my ear.

“Hello, Mom.”