Chapter 8: I Don't Need Your Approval

~Bianca's POV~

Silence.

I stared at Dr. Emily, my mouth opening and closing as if I had forgotten how to speak. Then, I burst into laughter.

"Good one, doc!" I wiped tears from my eyes. "You had me there for a sec."

But then I noticed that Dr. Emily's gaze didn't mirror amusement. There was something darker in it. A shadow of guilt. Her face remained solemn, regret evident in her eyes.

"What?" I leaped to my feet, the chair scraping loudly behind me. I wasn't sure if I was shaking with anger or disbelief. "What the hell do you mean I don't have cancer? Are you telling me that all these years—everything I've lived through—it's all been a lie?"

Dr. Emily flinched at my outburst, but she didn't retreat. She remained calm, a quiet sorrow in her eyes.

"Bianca," she began softly, "Please, just let me explain."

My pulse hammered in my ears, and I paced the small office, unable to process the sheer scale of the betrayal. "Explain? You just told me my entire life was based on a lie! How the hell am I supposed to calm down after hearing that?"

Her hands trembled as she stood, walking toward me. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Your father, Bianca—he came to me when you were fourteen. He asked me to make you believe you had cancer. He said it was to protect you—to shield you from people who would take advantage of you, who would want you for your money, for your wealth. He wanted to know who really cared about you, not just for your money. So, I made you believe you were sick."

The words knocked the breath from my chest. Everything I had known, everything I had endured—every tear, every moment of fear—had been controlled by Father. All of it. For his protection. For his power.

"You… you made me believe I was dying?" My chest tightened with rage and heartbreak.

Dr. Emily nodded slowly, regret etched deep into her features.

The memories hit me all at once. Nathan's comment about how he wondered how I was strong despite being sick. So this was the reason.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I let them fall. Not for the lies, not for the years of sickness, but for the girl I once was—the one I had been told I was, but who never truly existed.

Sinking back into the chair, my hands shook, thoughts racing in a blur of anger and disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me? Why now? Why are you telling me this now?"

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders slumping. "I tried, Bianca. I tried so many times, but when you married Nathan, you cut ties with us. And your father... he thought it was for the best. After he died, I knew you needed to know the truth, but when I went to your house to speak with you, Nathan's mother—she wouldn't let me see you. She threatened me, told me if I ever came near you again, they'd shut down the hospital."

A surge of fury shot through me. "That woman…" I clenched my fists, barely able to contain my rage. "How could they do that to you? How could they be so evil?"

Dr. Emily's eyes filled with tears now, the years of regret spilling out. "I was just following your father's wishes, Bianca. I didn't know what else to do. I thought distance was what you needed. But now, I see… I see I should have told you sooner."

Standing slowly, I placed my hand on her shoulder, the pain in my chest easing ever so slightly. "It's not your fault. You did what you thought was best. Father... he just wanted to protect me. He was doing what he thought would keep me safe."

We stood there in silence for a moment, the burden of everything crashing down on me. My father, the lies. Everything had been a twisted game.

I took a deep breath, gathering myself. "But that's not why I came here today. There's something else I need to talk to you about."

Her expression softened, worry crossing her face. "What's wrong, Bianca?"

I hesitated, then finally spoke the words that had been suffocating me since my rebirth. "I've been poisoned, Dr. Emily. Nathan and his family's been feeding me something that's making me sick."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Poisoned? Are you sure?"

I nodded, my stomach turning at the thought of everything Nathan had done to me. "It started with the pills—the ones I thought were for cancer. But now… now it's something else. I need to know if you can help me."

She stood frozen for a moment with a pale face. "I can help you," she said at last. "But I need the drugs he's been giving you. You need to bring them to me."

"I will," I said firmly. "He's getting me a refill today. I'll make sure you get what you need."

She nodded. "Okay. We'll figure this out. We'll get you the help you need."

*****

I walked out of the hospital, feeling the cool air against my face. My mind was a storm—guilt over my father's choices, anger toward Nathan and his family for their deceit, and something else. A fire was building inside me, a burning determination to take control. I'd spent too long living someone else's version of my life, letting them dictate my every move. But not anymore.

The streets stretched out in front of me as I walked toward Sinclair Industries. The tall glass and steel building stood like a fortress, a symbol of power.

I wasn't going to sit back and let Nathan destroy me again. He had already taken everything—my family, my life, my wealth. But I'd be damned if I let him keep it.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the glass doors of Sinclair Industries, stepping inside. The tiled floors glowed under the lighting, and the reception desk sat silently at the far end of the lobby.

Before I could take another step, two security guards approached.

"Who are you?" one of them asked as he scanned me with a mixture of suspicion and judgment. "Do you have an appointment?"

I forced a smile, though inside, a storm raged. "I'm here to see Mr. Sinclair."

They exchanged looks, and then the one who spoke first laughed. "Yeah, right. You?" He smirked, clearly unimpressed by my simple appearance. "You don't look like someone Mr. Sinclair would want to meet."

I had made an effort to look better that morning, but it wasn't much. Nathan had always told me I looked better in simple clothes, so that was all I had.

The sting of his mockery burned deep, but I swallowed it down. They didn't know who I was or what I was capable of. I wasn't Bianca Calloway, the victim anymore. I was someone different now.

Lifting my chin, I met their cold stare. "I'm sure he'll want to see me," I said confidently, even though I knew Damien likely wouldn't, but I was still going to try. "You can check with him."

The guards didn't look convinced. One of them raised an eyebrow. "You walked here? On foot?" His sneer was more pronounced now.

"I don't need your approval," I snapped, turning away and heading toward the door.

As I stepped closer to the exit, I could hear them laughing behind me. It was the kind of mocking laughter that I knew all too well, too much like the way Nathan and his family had treated me for years.

It only fueled the fire inside me.

Before I could make it to the door, something inside me snapped. I spun on my heel, my heart pounding. I could hear the guards shouting something, but I didn't care.

Rushing at the first one, my instincts kicked in. My knee shot up, connecting with his groin. The shock on his face was fleeting, and before he could react, I was already past him, sprinting toward the other guard.

He tried to grab me, but I dodged, his hand just brushing my arm as I bolted for the elevator.

"Hey, get her!" the second guard yelled in a panicked voice as the alarm began to blare in the distance.