12. Family

Marissa Beth's POV

....

The storm outside rattled the windows, but the storm inside this house was far worse.

The wind howled like it wanted to strip the roof from over us, but it wasn't the weather keeping me awake. It was the sound of my husband coughing in the other room. That cough... deep, rattling, and broken. It carried a clock inside it, ticking down the last moments of his life. His heart was failing. I knew it. The doctors had whispered it enough times. He didn't have long, and he refused every serious treatment. Stubborn old man. He had built an empire with sheer willpower, and he wanted to die on the same terms. But when he goes, what happens to us? What happens to Yuri? To me?

And then there was Layla.

The shadow that had haunted my life for twenty years.

"Mother," Yuri's voice pulled me back. It was hoarse, swollen from crying. She stood in the doorway, eyes puffy and red. "Why did you make her do it? You knew everything. I told you. I begged you to cancel the wedding after I ran away. You told me Father wouldn't accept me if he knew I had a child out of wedlock, so I listened. I ran. I did everything you asked. But why didn't you tell Layla? Why force her to stand there, in my place? Xavier brought her to me. She knows everything now."

I snapped my gaze up from the glass of wine in my hand. My look had silenced her since she was little. But tonight, she didn't flinch.

"She deserved to know," Yuri pushed, voice trembling but stubborn. "She should have had the choice..."

"Enough!" My voice cracked like a whip, sharp in the quiet house. "Do not speak to me of choices. Choices are for people who can afford them. And we cannot. Do you hear me?"

Yuri's lip quivered. "But she's my sister..."

"No." I cut her off, cold as ice. "She is not your sister. She is your father's daughter. Not mine. Don't forget that."

Her wide eyes searched my face as though she had never heard it spoken so plainly before. But it was the truth. Layla was not mine. She never had been.

I had raised her, yes. But loved her? Never. Not the way I loved Yuri. Not the way I loved my own blood. The only reason I accepted that child into my home was because her mother, the woman my husband betrayed me with, came from money. Old money. A fortune that was promised into our hands if we raised her child as our own. That was the only reason I allowed his infidelity. That was the only reason I tolerated Layla's presence. Without that deal, I would have left her at the orphanage gates.

Yuri's breath hitched. "She doesn't know any of this. She loves you. She calls you 'Mother' because she truly believes..."

"Every time she calls me Mother," I cut in, my lip curling, "it makes me want to kill her."

Yuri staggered back, horrified. "Don't say that."

"Actually," I whispered, leaning forward, my voice low and venomous, "I think I should. I should kill her. And then make her beg Xavier to marry you on her deathbed. After all, you need a man to raise that bastard's child, don't you?"

"Mom!" Yuri gasped, clutching her stomach as though my words had punched her there. "You can't... stop this, stop everything. This is too much. I'll tell Layla everything. She'll forgive me, and she'll forgive you too. We can still..."

"Yuri Diana Beth!" My voice rose, sharp as broken glass. "If you dare breathe a word to Layla, I'll tell her what you did to her."

Her face froze, all color draining.

I smiled cruelly. "You think I don't know? You think I don't know whose child this is? You think I don't know that you were the one who spread her pictures in college? That you ruined her name before anyone else could?"

Tears spilled from her eyes, shaking her frame. "Mother, please..."

"No." I stepped closer, towering over her. "You don't get to play saint. You're no savior. You're selfish, reckless, weak. And don't you dare think Layla is some angel either. She is ungrateful, spoiled, impossible. I gave her everything. Security, wealth, a place in this house. And what has she given in return? Hatred. Defiance. Always questioning me, always ruining the order of things."

I lifted my chin, glaring down. "Now she has Xavier Russell. Do you think any of us would survive without him? Without his name, his power, his money? Your father is dying. The companies are already pulling away after your scandal. Everything we built would crumble. And Layla standing at that altar was the only way to stop it."

Yuri's voice cracked, soft but firm: "Even if it ruins her life?"

"She is living in luxury," I snapped. "Like she always has. Married to one of the most powerful men in this country. She has security, money, status. What more does that ungrateful bitch want? Why is she always like this? She got married into a rich family. Can't she just live happily ever after instead of stirring chaos?"

Yuri flinched. "She never asked for this."

"And you think you did?" I hissed, my words sharp enough to cut. "You, who couldn't even keep your legs closed? You, who dragged shame into this family? You want me to have let you destroy us all with your scandal? Don't act righteous now. Layla's sacrifice was necessary. You both should be thanking me."

Her mouth fell open, but no words came.

I smirked faintly, savoring her silence.

This family survived because of me. Because I was willing to do what needed to be done. Love didn't keep the lights on. Forgiveness didn't pay the bills. Hate didn't stop the world from laughing at us. Money did. Power did. And Xavier Russell's name would save us all.

Yuri whispered, almost to herself, "She'll never forgive you."

I let out a soft laugh, bitter as poison. "She doesn't need to."

I turned back to my glass of wine, lifting it slowly. My reflection in the dark red liquid looked nothing like the woman I used to be. But that woman had died a long time ago, the day my husband brought home another woman's child. The day I swallowed my pride and accepted her. The day I decided survival meant more than love.

And if Layla hated me? So be it. Hate was a small price to pay for survival.