Chapter 4

“Her blood pressure is dropping. If we wait any longer, it’ll be dangerous!”

The nurse’s urgent voice yanked me from my daze. I forced my swollen hand to move, my fingers fumbling for my phone. Seven hours had passed. Seven. Robert still hadn’t come back.

The nurse adjusted my IV, her tone impatient as she muttered, “Where’s your boyfriend? It’s safer to have someone here watching you.”

Boyfriend. The word was a cruel joke. To everyone else in this hospital, Robert and I were inseparable. But right now, he wasn’t at my bedside. He was with hers.

I curved my lips into a smile—cold, empty—and said nothing.

When the nurse left, I pressed my palm to the wall and slowly pushed myself out into the corridor. Voices drifted toward me, hushed but sharp enough to cut.

“Sarah’s so lucky. Robert booked her a private suite and even flew in a foreign specialist. He hasn’t left her side once.”

Every word was a needle, pricking deeper into my already raw chest.

Before I knew it, my feet carried me to Sarah’s room. The door was cracked just enough. I didn’t mean to look, but I did—and what I saw nearly knocked the air from my lungs.

Robert. Sitting by her bed, a soft smile on his face, handing her a cup of hot chocolate. With marshmallows. Her favorite.

My vision blurred instantly, tears spilling hot down my cheeks. I swiped them away so hard my skin stung.

“Barbara,” I hissed under my breath, my nails digging crescents into my palms. “Who are you crying for? No one pities you. Don’t you dare cry.”

I spun on my heel, my spine straight, my steps sharp. Each one echoed with determination, even as blood welled beneath my nails.

—

The next few days, Robert vanished completely. Not a call, not a glance. He only reappeared the morning of my discharge.

His black SUV was parked at the entrance like a shadow I couldn’t escape. The tinted window rolled down, and there he was. That cold, perfect profile.

“Get in,” he said flatly.

I turned away, ready to walk, but his voice followed—lazy, sharp. “Planning to make a scene?”

That tone. The same one he always used to control me. But this time, the taste it left was bitter, rotten. He could protect Sarah with tenderness, but with me, it was always commands.

Grinding my teeth, I slid into the car.

Without looking at me, he handed me a glossy catalog. “You haven’t been in a good mood. You always loved auctions. I’m taking you to one.”

I wanted to scoff, to throw the book back in his face. But when I flipped a page, my entire body froze.

My mother’s pearl necklace.

The one my stepmother had tossed out like trash, sneering that “things from the dead are just eyesores.” The one I’d begged to keep.

My throat closed. My hands shook as I clutched the catalog, my phone already in my lap as I typed a message to my lawyer. Sell every property under my name. Liquidate it all. I need cash. Now.

For years, I had endured humiliation, begging for scraps, just to hold on to the memory of my mother. But no more. Not anymore. I wasn’t going to be shackled by ghosts—or by anyone else.

—

The auction hall glittered beneath crystal chandeliers. Cameras flashed, the air thick with perfume and power. Robert led me into the VIP section, and my stomach twisted the moment I saw her.

Sarah.

Sitting pretty in a reserved seat, a sly smile curling her lips. She stood and linked her arm through mine like we were old friends.

“Barbara,” she cooed, her voice honey-sweet and venom-laced. “I told Robert I wanted to apologize at an auction, but I never thought he’d actually bring you. You two must have such a strong relationship.”

She even winked.

My entire body went cold, rigid. I turned slowly to Robert, my voice raw. “Why did you bring me here?”

He didn’t meet my eyes. His gaze flicked to the auction list instead. “Sarah’s still recovering. She’s… emotionally fragile. She said she wanted to see you. To clear the air.”

That was it. That was the real reason. Not because he noticed my low spirits. Not because he wanted to cheer me up.

Because Sarah asked.

And for the first time, Robert—the man who had always been untouchable, composed, controlling—looked away from me. Avoided my gaze.

That tiny crack in his armor hurt more than any coldness ever could.

*