Chapter 2

VERA’S POV

I walked out of that mansion with my heart in shreds;

I wanted to scream, to cry, to tear something apart, but I just kept walking. My heels clicked against the pavement until I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. The city lights blurred through my tears, and the night air stung my face.

I had nowhere to go.

He was right about one thing; I didn’t have the money, the power, or the influence to fight him. If I started a case against Anthony Voss, the entire system would chew me alive and spit me out.

But staying with him? That would finish what was left of me.

My feet stopped on their own accord. I blinked through my tears and realized I was standing in front of a small bar.

Memories began to flood back in; Everything started in a bar like this three years ago.

I was working in a bar, trying to make enough tips to pay my rent and my father’s gambling debt.

Anthony came and drank till late at night until he passed out;

Clair, his precious childhood friend and first love had just left him and went away with another man. It shattered him completely.

I didn’t know him then,  but I saw the pain in his eyes every night. And for some reason, I wanted to take it away.

He came again and again, drinking until he couldn’t stand, and I was always the one to clean up his mess, to call him a cab, to listen when he ranted about love and betrayal.

Our friendship started from there and blossomed into love.

He was the first man who ever made me feel seen, who told me I was more than the broken girl everyone mocked. I thought that meant something. I thought love could erase where I came from.

I laughed bitterly at my reflection in the bar’s glass.

When Clair came back into his life two months ago, everything changed. She returned like a ghost with a crown, took over her father’s company, and became Anthony’s business partner. From that moment, I ceased to exist.

I walked away from the bar and tried to shake off those memories that used to be my fairytale.

I didn’t want to go back to Anthony’s mansion. So, I just kept walking until I found myself at the one place I swore never to return to,  the old, crumbling house on the edge of the city.

My father’s house.

The place where every scar on my heart began.

The front door creaked as I pushed it open. The smell of stale alcohol hit me instantly.

I walked in quietly and saw the littered bottles of alcohol on the floor and he was there. sitting on the couch, hunched over, a bottle in his hand.

The moment his eyes landed on me, they burned with rage.

“You?” he spat, rising from his chair. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I swallowed hard. “I have nowhere to go, Dad.”

“Get out!” he growled.

“This is my home, too,” I said quietly

His laughter was cruel. “You think you can just walk in after all these years?” He took a step closer with wild eyes. “You think I’ll let you stay here after everything? After the shame you brought to this family?”

I stared at him, feeling something inside me break. “What shame, Dad? What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much?”

He sneered. “Don’t you dare question me.”

“No, you answer me!” I shouted, my voice trembling. “All my life, you treated me like trash! You made me pay your debts, work your shifts, live in fear! I went to school alone, starved, begged to survive, and still, I tried to be your daughter!”

He glared at me but said nothing.

“When you gambled away everything, who paid the money back?” I pressed, tears welling up. “When people mocked you, who defended you? I did! I worked nights, cleaned tables, saved every coin for you! And what did I get in return?”

“You married that rich bastard!” he snapped. “You thought that made you better than me?”

My heart pounded. “You disowned me the day I found happiness! You never even came to my wedding!”

“Because I knew it wouldn’t last!” He slammed the bottle on the table. “You’re cursed, Vera! Everything you touch falls apart!”

His words stung worse than a whip.

I took a step back, shaking. “I'm done letting you define who I am.”

“Get out,” he barked. “Go back to your husband.”

“No,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m done with him too.”

I turned to walk further into the house, towards my old room;

But before I could take another step, I heard glass shatter.

Pain exploded at the back of my head, and the world tilted around me.

I gasped, reaching out to steady myself, but I hit the ground and darkness took over

******************

When I opened my eyes again, everything was white, bright and blinding;

The steady beeping of a machine echoed somewhere near my ear. My head throbbed, and I winced as I tried to move;

“Vera?” a familiar voice whispered.

I blinked, my vision clearing slowly as Cynthia's face came into focus; my best friend, her eyes were red from crying.

“Cynthia?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Where am I?”

“You're in the hospital,” she said softly, gripping my hand.

I frowned, confusion fogging my mind. “What… what happened?”

“You don’t remember?” she asked carefully.

I shook my head slowly. “No. I… I remember walking on the streets and…”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Anthony called me last night. He said you left the mansion and hadn’t returned. He sounded angry. I went looking for you everywhere. When I got to your father’s house, I found you in the pool of your own blood, Vera,” her voice broke.

My stomach dropped. The memory flashed, and I remembered the argument between my father and I until he threw a bottle at my head.

I touched the back of my head instinctively, feeling the bandage.

“You could have died, Vera,” she said, with pain in her voice. “You lost a lot of blood.”

I tried to sit up, but dizziness hit me. “How long have I been here?”

“Just overnight,” she said. “They had trouble finding a blood donor. You have a rare blood type.”

Before I could respond, the door opened and a man walked in.

He looked young, maybe in his late twenties, he was tall, with sharp features and an aura of quiet confidence. His white coat fit perfectly, his dark hair slicked back neatly.

There was something familiar about him; like a face I’d seen in a magazine or on a television screen.

Cynthia turned. “Oh, Doctor, Thank you so much once again,”

He smiled politely. “I’ll need a moment with the patient, please.”

She nodded and squeezed my hand before leaving.

The doctor came closer, checking the monitor beside my bed. His voice was calm, deep, and steady. “How are you feeling, Ma’am?”

“I'm Vera,” I corrected weakly. “And… I don’t know, I feel dizzy.”

“That’s normal,” he said. “You suffered a head injury and lost quite a bit of blood.”

He scribbled something on a chart, then looked at me again, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky you made it in time.”

“I heard that you had trouble finding a donor,” I murmured.

He nodded. “Your blood type is extremely rare. AB negative.”

“Then how…?”

“I did,” he said simply.

I blinked. “You donated?”

He smiled faintly. “Yes.”

Emotion clogged my throat. “Oh my God… Thank you so much. I don’t even know how to.. ”

“Don’t,” he interrupted gently. “You don’t need to thank me.”

I frowned. “Of course I do. You saved my life.”

He stepped closer, his expression softened “It was my responsibility to make sure you survived.”

Something about the way he said it made my pulse quicken.

“Why?” I asked quietly. “You don’t even know me.”

He hesitated, then exhaled slowly. “Actually… I do.”

My heart skipped. “What do you mean?”

He met my gaze, his eyes shining with warmth that made my stomach twist.

“Because, Vera,” he said softly, his voice trembling just slightly, “you’re my precious lost sister.”