Chapter 7

Elena's POV

The large decorative scaffolding, heavy with lights and floral arrangements, gave a groan. It swayed dangerously.

It was falling.

And it was falling right toward us.

In that split second, instinct took over. Or maybe, it was the truth revealing itself.

Liam didn't reach for me.

He lunged past me. He threw his body to the left, tackling Sophia to the ground, shielding her with his own body as the heavy steel structure came crashing down.

I stood there, alone in the center of the stage, as the lights plummeted toward me. Then I fell into darkness.

***

The first thing I noticed was the silence.

No music. No applause. No crashing steel.

Just the rhythmic beep... beep... beep of a heart monitor.

I opened my eyes. The harsh fluorescent light of the hospital room blinded me for a second. I tried to shield my eyes, but a sharp, searing pain shot through my left arm.

I gasped, looking down. My arm was encased in a heavy plaster cast. My head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache, a concussion, definitely.

"You're finally awake."

The voice came from the chair beside my bed. It wasn't Liam.

I turned my head slowly.

Sophia Cruz was sitting there, her legs crossed elegantly. She looked impeccable. Not a hair out of place, her makeup flawless, wearing the same white dress from the party. It wasn't even wrinkled.

In her hands, she held a paring knife and a red apple. She was peeling it, one long, continuous strip of skin curling away from the fruit.

"Where is Liam?" I rasped. My throat felt like it was filled with broken glass.

"He's outside," Sophia said, not looking up from the apple. "Talking to the doctors. And the lawyers. And the PR team. You caused quite a mess, Elena."

"I caused a mess?" I tried to sit up, but dizziness slammed me back against the pillows. "The scaffolding fell on me."

Sophia finally looked at me. Her eyes were cold, devoid of any sympathy. A small smile played on her lips as she sliced a piece of the apple and popped it into her mouth.

"And who do you think pushed it?" she whispered.

I froze.

"It was an accident," she continued, her voice light and conversational. "Or at least, that's what the police report says. Loose bolts. A tragedy."

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bed rail, invading my space.

"But we saw it, didn't we? In that split second when the metal came down... who did he save?"

My breath hitched. The memory was burned into my mind. Liam lunging. Not for me. But away from me. Covering her.

"He chose me," Sophia said, her voice dropping to a cruel purr. "He didn't even think, Elena. It was instinct. He protected the mother of his child. And he left you to rot."

"Get out," I whispered, my hand clenching into a fist on the sheet.

"Why? I'm just keeping you company," Sophia laughed softly. "You should be grateful. If you had died, I would have had to pretend to be sad at your funeral. That would have been exhausting."

She stood up, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her dress. "Face it, sweetie. You lost. You're just the placeholder. The visa mule."

"Sophia!"

The door swung open. Liam walked in. He looked frazzled, his tie undone, sweat beading on his forehead.

When he saw Sophia standing by my bed, his face softened instantly.

"Soph," he breathed, rushing over to her. "Are you okay? You've been standing too long. The doctor said you need to rest. The stress isn't good for the baby."

He placed a hand on her back, guiding her to the chair she had just vacated. He didn't even look at me.

I watched them. My husband. Fawning over his mistress while his wife lay in a hospital bed with broken bones.

"I'm fine, Liam," Sophia said, putting on a brave, shaky voice. "I was just... worried about Elena. She seems very agitated."

Liam finally turned to me. His expression wasn't one of concern. It was annoyance.

"Elena," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why are you upsetting her? Sophia has been here for hours waiting for you to wake up. She's traumatized."

I stared at him in disbelief. "She's traumatized? Liam, I have a broken arm and a concussion! She just told me she pushed the scaffolding!"

"Oh, stop it," Liam snapped. "That's the concussion talking. You're hallucinating. Sophia would never do that."

"She admitted it!"

"Lower your voice!" Liam hissed, glancing at the door. "There are reporters outside! Do you want them to hear you screaming like a lunatic?"

He walked to the side of the bed. "Look, I know you're in pain. But you need to be reasonable. It was an accident. I tried to save everyone, but it happened too fast."

"You didn't try to save everyone," I said, tears of rage pricking my eyes. "You saved her. You left me there."

"She's pregnant, Elena!" Liam blurted out. "She's carrying Mike's baby! My dead best friend's child! Of course I prioritized her! You're an athlete. You're tough. I knew you could take a hit. But Sophia... she's delicate."

I knew you could take a hit.

The words hit me harder than the steel beam had.

Because I was strong, I was expendable. Because I was competent, I deserved pain.

"I see," I said. My voice went eerily calm.