Chapter Three

Violeta’s Pov

After what I'd heard, I realized I couldn't stay here any longer.

Not in this castle that had stolen everything from me.

Not under the same roof as that monster who lied to me.

Not under the same roof with HER.

I clutched the small bag in my trembling hands, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. I had nothing but a few clothes and scraps of bread I had stolen from the kitchen. It wasn't much but it was enough.

I exhaled a shaky breath and stepped towards the stairs when suddenly, I heard it —

A slow click of heels against the marble floor.

My body went rigid.

I turned around slowly, so very slowly, until she was facing me.

Camilla.

She was draped in an elegant gown as usual. Her lips, usually painted in the deepest shade of red, were smudged. No one needed to tell me how it became that way.

Her gaze dropped to my bag and a slow, cruel smile stretched across her face.

“Well, well, well,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Look who it is — The little slave is running away.”

I swallowed hard and gripped the strap of my bag tighter.

Cammila took a step closer. “What's wrong, Violeta? Finally realized you don't belong here?”

I should've ignored her.

I should've kept walking.

But I couldn't.

Not this time.

For the first time since I came here, I found my voice. “I know and I should've left a long time ago.”

Her smirk faltered for only a second before she laughed — a soft, cruel laugh, as if she had just been told a joke.

“And where will you go?” She asked. “You're nothing without this pack.”

“I'd rather be nothing than stay here with you.” I shot back.

She scoffed. “You really think anyone will want you if you run? Open your eyes, muffin. No one will take you in. Not with that scarred face. You'd even scare them away.”

I stiffened but I dared not let her words get to me. Not this time.

I took a step forward and smiled. “If they don't take me in, I'd build a place of my own.”

There.

I broke her resolve.

“You bitch!” she yelled.

Before I could react, her hands slammed into my shoulders.

What?

The world tilted and my feet left the ground.

My body hurled as gravity pulled me downwards.

And then —

I crashed against the cold, marble floor. The impact ripping a scream from my throat. My vision blurred as pain — binding, searing and unforgiving pain, tore through my body.

My fingers twitched and I gasped as my body ricocheted in pure agony.

I tried to move but I couldn't.

My stomach — Dear Goddess, my stomach hurts so much.

A strange warmth — sticky and wet, began to seep through my dress

My fingers touched my stomach and I cried out.

Blood.

So much blood.

I tried to lift my head but my body refused to obey.

The world around me spun and then I saw her.

Standing at the top of the stairs and looking down on me like a queen watching a bug squirm beneath her shoe — Camilla.

Her lips curled into a smirk.

My eyes went round in shock.

She had pushed me and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

I wanted to scream.

I so wanted to fight her but my body was dying.

The pain was beginning to dull.

I was slipping away and all I could see before the darkness claimed me was Cammila’s victorious smile.

****

By the time I woke up, I was numb.

I stared at the familiar room and realized I was in the infirmary.

What was I doing here?

I sat up and a low groan escaped my lips.

“Don't get up just yet. You just had an operation.” A voice said hurriedly.

An operation?

“What?” I panicked immediately. “Why did I have an operation?”

The healer clapped his hand at the back of neck. He only did that when he wanted to deliver bad news.

“Mr. Aaron?” I asked softly. “What operation?’

“I'm sorry, Violeta,” he began.

Before he could complete his sentence, I already knew what he wanted to say.

My hand instinctively flew to my stomach and I flinched.

“... you lost the baby.” He completed it.

I couldn't react.

“Violeta?” He called softly.

I didn't move.

I couldn't even speak.

I just stared around the room and didn't stop trailing my eyes until I found my old dress folded in a neat pile, covered in blood.

Not my blood.

But His.

My baby.

My eyes filled and I screamed.

When Theron found out I had lost my baby, he was furious.

For the first time since I'd been in the castle, I saw true rage in his eyes. It wasn't not the cold indifference he usually had shown me before. It was pure, seething rage.

Someone had dared to take his heir.

But that was all it was — The loss of a baby.

Not the loss of my child, my flesh and blood,

Not the loss of the only light I had left in my dark world.

It was just the mere loss of an heir.

I wanted to scream at Theron.

I wanted to ask why he was caring this much when the baby was gone.

But those words never left my lips.

Because as much as I loathe him, I still wanted him to choose me. I wanted him to prove that somewhere, somehow, that kindness was buried beneath his cruelty.

But the only thing buried in his heart was darkness.

And it drove him mad.

He swore to find the culprit, his fury blinding him into seeking vengeance.

I had to stop him from ruining everything else in his fit of rage so I gathered the courage to tell him the truth.

And I did.

But —

“Camilla?” His brows furrowed. “You think she did this?”

“I don't think so. I know. She pushed me… down the steps.” I said, my body trembling as I recalled the blood and my screams.

Theron's jaws clenched and for a moment, I thought he believed me.

He said nothing else and stormed off.

Hope bloomed in my chest. He was going to interrogate her.

However —

He returned with an even deeper frown on his face. “She said you're trying to frame her.”

Blood drained from my face. “What?”

“She said you're trying to manipulate me by lying.” He said.

“No!” I screamed. “She's lying!”

He didn't say anything. And that was all the answer I needed.

Cammila had won.