Chapter Three

*Avina*

The gravel of the driveway bit into my bare, bloodied feet, but I didn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything except the frantic, jagged beat of my heart and the cold, wet sensation of my own blood soaking into my collar.

I leaned against a thick oak tree at the edge of the estate, gasping for air. My lungs felt like they were filled with crushed glass, each intake of breath excruciatingly painful. But still, I looked toward my home—the Graves mansion with hope.

It was glowing.

Every window was ablaze with warm, golden light. Music drifted across the lawn, a soft, upbeat jazz that felt like a slap in the face. Valet drivers in crisp uniforms moved luxury cars. Men in tuxedos and women in shimmering gowns laughed as they walked toward the grand entrance.

I stood in the shadows, a ghost in a torn, shredded coat. I looked at the faces of the guests through the massive glass windows of the ballroom. I saw them…our "friends." Chloe was there, sipping champagne and laughing with a group of socialites. My father was there, shaking hands with a judge.

Even people I'd volunteered with were present, each with different assorted wine in hand, their heads huddled together as they chatted away with each other. 

Not one of them looked worried. Not one of them looked like they were mourning a daughter or a friend who had been dragged away in handcuffs only days ago. They were celebrating.

A fresh sob rose in my throat, followed by a violent cough. I pressed my hand to my mouth trying to subdue it, and when I pulled it away, it was yet again covered in blood.

Xavier, I thought, my mind clinging to his name like a life raft. Xavier doesn't know. He’s being forced to do this. He’s the only one who can help me.

He was the only one who had stood by me all this years, speaking up for me and loving me. I needed to find him. 

I couldn't go through the front. The police were surely looking for me. But since I knew this house better than anyone. I skirted the edge of the garden, staying low in the hedges until I reached the service entrance near the kitchen. I waited for a group of caterers to pass with trays of hors d'oeuvres, then slipped inside.

The warmth of the house hit me, and for a second, I almost collapsed. It smelled of vanilla, expensive perfume, and the roasted duck Xavier loved. I moved through the back hallways, my heart hammering. I knew the shortcuts—the servant stairs that led directly to the second-floor landing.

I finally reached the balcony overlooking the grand ballroom and I quickly slipped in and hid behind the heavy velvet curtains, peeking out.

And then, I saw him.

Xavier was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a group of men in dark suits. He looked magnificent. He was wearing the midnight-blue tuxedo I had bought him for his birthday. He was smiling, his eyes bright and full of a confidence I had never seen before.

Beside him stood a tall, older man—Senator Higgins.

"To the youngest Chief Medical Director in the history of Graves Hospital," the Senator boomed, raising his glass. "A man of integrity and brilliance!"

The room erupted in applause. Xavier bowed his head modestly, then looked up, his gaze sweeping the room. For a split second, I thought he looked toward the curtains and my heart leaped.

I didn't wait. I couldn't. I slipped away from the balcony and hurried toward the small study behind the ballroom where I knew he always went to escape the crowds.

Already knowing the combination for the door lock, I inputted the password and slipped into the room. Then I waited in the shadows of the study, my body shaking so hard my teeth rattled. A few minutes later, the door opened and Xavier walked in, letting out a long, tired sigh as he loosened his tie.

"Xavier," I whispered, relief flooding my system.

He jumped, spinning around. His eyes widened, and for a second, a flash of something—was it fear?crossed his face. But then it was gone, replaced by a look of profound shock.

"Avina?" he breathed. He rushed toward me, catching me before I hit the floor. "My God, look at you. You’re bleeding. How did you get here? The police—"

He pushed away the tendrils of hair sticking to my forehead and showered tiny little kisses on my face. 

For a moment, I let go of my worries and broke down sobbing in his arms. Xavier has always been my safe place. 

"Xavier, they’re lying," I sobbed, clutching his lapels. My blood was staining his white shirt, but I didn't care. "The accounts... I didn't do it. Daphne... I saw her with you at the hospital, Xavier. She was pregnant. She must be the mastermind behind all this, she's blackmailing you with something right? Please tell me it’s a mistake. Please tell me you’ll help me."

Xavier’s face softened. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. He smelled so familiar of cedarwood and home. "Shhh," he whispered, stroking my hair. "I know, darling. I know. It’s a mess. A terrible mistake."

"You believe me?" I looked up at him, my eyes blurred with tears.

"Of course I do," he said, wiping a smudge of blood from my cheek with his thumb. "But we have to be smart. The police are everywhere tonight. If they see you like this, they’ll take you back to that cell."

"What do I do?"

"Go to our bedroom," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Use the back stairs. Stay there and wait for me. I have to finish this toast, and then I’ll come up. We’ll call the lawyers together. I won't let them take you again. I promise."

I nodded, a wave of relief washing over me so powerful I felt dizzy. "Thank you, Xavier. I love you."

"I know," he said and kissed my forehead. "Now go. Quickly."

I hurried out, my heart finally finding a steady rhythm. I made it to our master suite and shut the door behind me. I sank onto the edge of our bed, the silk sheets feeling like a dream against my torn skin. I was safe. Xavier was going to fix it.

CLICK.

The sound was small, but in the silence of the room, it sounded like a gunshot.

I froze. And then slowly stood up and walked to the door, reaching for the handle. I turned it but it didn't budge.

"Xavier?" I knocked softly. "Xavier, did you lock the door?"

No answer.

I pulled harder, my panic rising. "Xavier! Open the door! It’s locked!"

I hammered on the wood, but the heavy mahogany swallowed the sound. I ran to the window, but recalled that we were on the third floor, and the drop was straight down onto the stone terrace. I was trapped.

I paced the room, my mind racing. Why would he lock it? To keep me safe? Yes, that must be it. He doesn't want anyone to walk in by accident.

But the minutes turned into an hour. The music downstairs grew louder, then faded. 

My worries began to escalate and soon enough my chest began to ache again—a deep, hollow throbbing. I coughed, and this time, the blood didn't stop. I slumped against the door, sliding down to the floor, gasping for air.

"Please," I whispered to the empty room. "Please come back."

Finally, I heard footsteps which was followed by the sound of a key turned in the lock.

And the door swung open.

Xavier walked in and I forced myself to my feet, a heavy sigh of relief escaping my mouth. He had removed his tuxedo jacket, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked calm. But he wasn't alone.

“Sarah had just one job—” he was muttering under his breath. 

Daphne stepped in behind him. She was still wearing that floral silk dress, her hand resting proudly on her pregnant belly. She looked at me, and a slow, cruel smile spread across her face.

"You really are like a cockroach, Avina," she said, her voice dripping with cold disdain. "No matter how much we stomp on you, you just keep crawling back."

I looked from Daphne to Xavier. He didn't move to protect me. He didn't even look angry. He walked over to the vanity and picked up a glass of water, taking a slow sip.

"Xavier?" I rasped. "What is she doing here? Unlock the door, we have to call the lawyers."

Xavier finally looked at me. His eyes were cold. There was no love left in them. No warmth. Just a flat, clinical detachment.

"There are no lawyers, Avina," he said.

"What?"

"Did you really think I didn't know about the accounts?" Xavier asked. He sat in the armchair across from the bed, crossing his legs comfortably. "I’m the one who opened them. In your name. I’m the one who’s been funneling the hospital’s money into them for three years."

I felt the world start to crumble. "But... why? You have everything. We have everything."

"I have what the Graves family allows me to have," Xavier snapped, his voice suddenly sharp. "I’m the 'nephew.' I’m the 'doctor.' I wanted more. I wanted the power. And I needed a fall guy. Someone the world would believe was unstable enough to do it."

"And who is better than the 'anxious, fragile' Avina?" Daphne giggled. She walked over to my jewelry box and began sifting through my necklaces, picking up a diamond strand and holding it against her neck. "I told him you were the perfect choice. You’ve always been so easy to manipulate and control. Even in high school, remember? All those 'friends' who were always by your side? I paid them. Every single one of them. Chloe, Maddie, Emily... they were all on my payroll. They told me everything you said, everything you did which only made it easier for us to twist every rumor about you, every 'accident' that ruined your reputation to our taste.”

"You... you’re my sister," I whispered, the words tasting like poison.

"I'm the sister who had to watch you get the best of everything because you were the 'legitimate' one," Daphne hissed, dropping the necklace. "You had everything! You were the 'real' daughter! You were the one everyone loved while I had to pretend to be the perfect little sister. I hated your smile. I hated your kindness. I wanted to see you in the dirt."

“But you still made life difficult for me!” I yelled, rage burning my insides. “Which was why I left everything for you. I got married and signed away my rights to the foundation to you!”

She pouted her lips and nodded. “Ah yes, you did but it wasn't enough to compensate me for all the insults I got as the illegitimate daughter of a mistress!“ She let out a deep condensing laugh and shook her head. “But God, you were so deeply naive that I didn't have to sweat when we plotted and took your child… oh no, it was actually my child if you think about it.”

My brows furrowed as different wheels began to roll in my head. What child was she talking about?

My red-hot gaze shifted to Xavier who just returned it without flinching. 

My heart dropped… it can't be.

"The baby..." I choked out. "Xavier said it died. He said it was stillborn."

“Oh well, he lied,” Daphne said softly, a slow, satisfied smirk curling her lips. “We used you as a surrogate. We used your body to carry our child because I didn't want to ruin my figure with a full-term pregnancy. So after the 'stillbirth' was faked, we just moved the baby. He’s with a nanny now in a guest house in France by the way."

France. The same France that Xavier often visits for his his medical conferences and outreaches? 

“And no, before you deem me the wicked witch of the east,” Daphne continued with a devilish giggle, “The surrogate thing was actually Xavier's idea, the only thing I did was bringing my eggs.”

I pressed my lips firmly together, my hands clenching until my fingernails bit into my skin 

“But why?” I gritted out, my voice laden with pain. “What did I ever do to you guys? WHY?”

Daphne clicked her tongue and tilted her head. “Do we need to have a reason tho? That feeling of being able to control and stir someone's life in the direction you want is empowering enough. And besides, it's fun,” she said with a lopsided smirk. 

I have always heard rumors of Daphne and her crew placing bets and wagers on people but never in my wildest dreams did it occur to me that I would be a puppet in one of their games. 

"You monsters! You're monsters!" 

I let out a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. I tried to launch myself at her, to claw that smug, knowing smile off her face, but my body betrayed me at the last minute. My legs buckled and I hit the floor hard, air ripping from my lungs as I choked, coughing until warm blood sprayed across the pristine white carpet beneath me.

"Don't get it on the rug, darling," Xavier said, finally standing up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, shimmering vial and a syringe. "It’s expensive."

My vision swam. I dragged myself backward, palms slipping, heart slamming so violently it felt like it might crack my ribs. “W-what is that?” I rasped.

"It’s the end of the experiment," Xavier explained, excitement slipping into his voice. He knelt beside me, his grip on my arm like a vice. "I’ve been testing a new compound for one of my experiments. It’s a cellular catalyst that I've been injecting into your 'vitamins' for months.” he paused and tilted his head as he studied my face, eyes bright with fascination. “And I think it's one of the major components in the injection for your anxiety. Brilliant, isn't it?”

The words got caught in my throat, unable to get past the growing lump of disbelief in my throat. 

My mouth opened anyway, useless, but nothing came out. Not a sound. Not even a breath I could feel. Silence pressed in while heat swelled behind my eyes, sharp and sudden.

I blinked once. Then again.

This man.

The man I loved.

My vision shimmered, his face blurring as heat gathered, sharp and sudden. My chest ached as if I’d forgotten how to breathe. Every memory I had of him, every soft look, every time he’d held me folded in on itself, turning wrong.

My lower lip trembled so I pressed it between my teeth, desperate to stop it.

It didn’t help.

Tears burned, heavy and unshed, spilling down my cheeks as the truth finally settled. 

I had loved him.

And I had loved a monster.

He looked at the syringe, the light catching the clear liquid inside.

"The data you provided was invaluable. But now that I’m CMD, I don't need you anymore. The police will find you here of course. Then they will rule it as a tragic suicid because the guilt of your crimes was just too much for your fragile mind to handle."

"Funny how this is almost exactly the same way your mother died,” Daphne added. “Like mother like daughter I guess.”

What? 

Was my mother murdered too? 

I barely had enough time to process what she just said when Xavier plunged the needle into my neck.

"NO!" I screamed, but the sound was swallowed by a sudden, terrifying heat rushing into my veins. 

It wasn't like the other injections. This was fire. It felt like my blood was turning into lava, melting my veins from the inside out. I clutched my chest and doubled over in pain as the fire crawled it's way to my throat. 

I fell back against the floor. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Daphne leaned over me, her face the last thing I saw. "Shhh," she whispered with a sadistic smile. "Just go quietly, dear sister. In your next life, strive not to be this naive, huh?"

Xavier stood over her, his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Daphne. The guests are waiting for the final toast."

With one last victorious chuckle, they walked out arm in arm, closing the door behind them. 

I laid on the floor, the darkness closing in. My heart stuttering and skipping beats. Every breath was a struggle. But during those last moments, I thought of my mother, murdered. I thought of the son I was robbed off. I thought of the man I loved, who had turned me into a science experiment.

‘If there is a God,’ I thought, the world fading to black, give me one more chance. ‘Give me the strength to tear them all down.’

My heart gave one last, violent lurch, and then darkness took me.