Chapter 4

Shattered Ties

Carlo stormed into the bedroom, his heart pounding in a way he wasn’t used to. The maid hadn’t been exaggerating, Kristen was crumpled on the cold marble floor, her skin pale and her breath shallow. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her lifeless body, something unfamiliar squeezing in his chest.

He dropped to his knees beside her.

“Sophie?” he said, shaking her shoulder gently. No response.

His jaw clenched. Without another second of hesitation, he scooped her into his arms like she weighed nothing, like she was fragile glass and he was terrified of breaking her. His fingers trembled as they wrapped around her, and he didn’t even try to understand why. He just knew he had to move.

“Get the damn car,” he barked at the guards.

At the hospital, the doctor ushered Carlo into a sterile office after examining her. He looked calm, professional but concerned.

“You brought her in just in time,” the doctor said as he slid a chart onto the desk.

Carlo leaned back in the chair, his face unreadable. “What happened?”

“She has a grade three ankle sprain, that’s the most severe kind. Explains the swelling and pain. But that’s not all. She’s also severely dehydrated, and her blood pressure was dangerously low when she arrived. That combination caused her to faint.”

Carlo didn’t blink. “Will she be alright?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes. We’re giving her IV fluids, some pain medication, and she’ll need regular icing for the ankle. But she’ll need time and physical therapy to walk properly again. Rest, support… she’ll recover.”

Carlo exhaled, slowly. Relief was not an emotion he welcomed. It made him feel… exposed.

“Keep me updated,” he said flatly before getting up and walking out.

He took care of the hospital bills like it was nothing. Not because he cared. That’s what he told himself. He just didn’t want the girl dying on his watch—not yet. He still had plans for her. Too much had been set in motion. She was part of a punishment. Part of the deal.

Kristen’s eyes fluttered open, the beeping of machines bringing her back to reality. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled her nose, and the white ceiling above looked almost too clean. She winced as a sharp pain surged through her leg, reminding her of where she was and why.

“Damn it,” she muttered, dropping her head back against the pillow.

The memories came rushing in. Being locked up. Screaming until her voice cracked. Hobbling around that cursed room until her leg gave out. And now, the hospital. Because of him.

At least he had the decency to bring her here, she thought bitterly. Then she snorted. “Probably didn’t want me bleeding all over his expensive floors.”

She scanned the room for any sign of him. Of course, it was empty.

“The monster didn’t even stay,” she muttered to herself, eyes stinging.

She looked away and let her thoughts drift, the pain in her leg almost numbed by the ache in her chest. Her life had been hard before but manageable. Carolina’s constant cruelty. Her father's silence. Still, she got through it. She had dreams once. A future.

But all of it shattered the moment Don Carlo came into their lives.

“Please, Dad, don’t do this!” Kristen had begged, the day it all changed.

Tears had poured down her cheeks as she knelt in front of her father in their living room. “You can’t let him marry me. He wanted Sophie!”

Her father couldn’t even look at her. His eyes were rimmed red with guilt, his shoulders hunched like a man already buried.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said quietly. “If we don’t give him what he wants, he’ll destroy us. You know who he is.”

“But I’m not what he wants!” she cried, grabbing his arm. “Please, Dad. He wanted Sophie. He doesn’t even know me!”

His silence hurt more than any words.

From the doorway, Carolina had watched like a satisfied queen, arms crossed, mouth twisted in cruel victory.

“Do this for the family,” her father whispered, as if that would make the betrayal any softer. “Please.”

In that moment, Kristen realized he was no longer her father. Just another pawn in Carolina’s game. Just another coward too scared to stand up for his daughter.

A soft knock on the hospital door pulled Kristen from the painful memory. A young maid entered, balancing a tray of food and a small bag of clothes.

“The boss asked me to bring you this,” she said gently.

Kristen’s face twisted. “Take it away. I don’t want anything from that heartless man.”

The maid flinched as Kristen shoved the tray to the floor, the sound of clattering cutlery echoing in the room.

“He did this to me! Locked me up, made me feel like a prisoner, and now he sends food like it makes it better?” Her voice cracked with emotion.

The maid looked down, sympathy in her eyes. She knew better than to disagree with the boss. Her own job and maybe her life hung on thin threads.

“I understand,” the maid said quietly. “But you need to eat. Please. Just a little.”

Kristen turned away, her throat tight. She didn’t want to accept anything from him. But the hunger gnawed at her. The pain in her leg wasn’t going anywhere. And she had to be strong for herself.

Eventually, with a heavy sigh, she nodded. The maid gently helped her sit up and fed her bites of soup, silent but kind.

Kristen fell asleep not long after, the medication finally kicking in.

Days passed. Kristen healed, slowly. Her leg still ached, but she could wiggle her toes again. The swelling was going down. She had physical therapy sessions scheduled. Through it all, Don Carlo never once came.

And that was fine by her.

He probably didn’t care anyway. Just a job done. Just a deal struck.

Still, something about his absence twisted inside her not sadness, but a kind of hollow rage. Like being tossed aside after being broken.

But the maid, Elena, became her comfort. The only kind voice she heard each day. They spoke in whispers during the quiet nights.

“He’s cruel,” Elena admitted once, brushing Kristen’s hair. “But maybe… not heartless. You’re the first girl he didn’t just toss aside.”

Kristen scoffed. “Great. I’m special. I get to be his prisoner instead.”

One evening, a commotion erupted outside the door. Kristen blinked awake, confusion muddling her mind until she heard a familiar voice.

“I said let me in! My daughter’s in there!”

Her blood ran cold.

Dad.

She sat up straighter, her leg screaming in protest. Through the gap in the door, she saw the outline of her father being held back by two guards.

“You can’t be here, sir,” one of them said. “Boss’s orders. No visitors.”

“I don’t care about his orders! That’s my daughter in there!”

Kristen’s nails dug into her palms. Her jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached.

How dare he?

After everything. After selling her off like property. Now he wanted to play the concerned parent?

“Elena,” Kristen said sharply.

The maid looked over from the corner. “Yes?”

“Keep him out. I don’t want to see him.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Outside the room, Mr. Wilson’s heart was breaking. He hadn’t seen Kristen’s face in days, hadn’t spoken to her since the day he signed her away like she was nothing.

But the moment the nurse stepped out, the door cracked open and there she was. Lying in the bed, pale but alive.

Their eyes met.

His filled with regret, hope.

Hers cold. Empty. Unforgiving.

The door closed.

He stood there for several more minutes before walking away, defeated.

Inside, Kristen pressed her head to the pillow, her face unreadable.

“Elena?” she said softly.

“Yes?”

“Tell Carlo thank you… for keeping him out.”

The maid’s eyes widened. “You… you mean that?”

Kristen nodded. “It’s the first thing he’s done that I actually appreciate.”

She stared up at the ceiling again. Her leg throbbed, her throat burned with unshed tears, but her mind was clear.

She wasn’t ready to forgive. Not Carlo. Not her father. Not Carolina.