บททั้งหมดของ Bride For The Blind Don: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Amber.I was hurt. I was pissed. But those words felt too small for what boiled inside me now. My anger had levels—deep, jagged layers—and every single one had a reason.Zeden had hurt me. His mother had hurt me worse. And everything the other maids whispered about her was true. She was a monster who laughed while she fed on your pain, like it was nothing more than seasoning. She could slice you open with a smile, then act as though no blood had been spilled. She made cruelty look effortless. I hated her.It seemed the Vercetti blood ran thick with different shades of the same poison. No lesser devil existed here. Every one of them was locked in some silent war to become the bigger monster, the higher devil.And Zeden… his brand came wrapped in manipulation, lies, pride, and that suffocating ego. I hated every jagged piece of his madness.He had never been blind.He had seen everything.Every tear I tried to hide. Every time I rolled my eyes behind his back. Every ugly face I made

Zeden. I paced the room like a caged animal, every step heavier than the last. What the hell was wrong with me? I had meant to do it—meant to clip those nails from her fingers, make her feel the sting of real consequences. That was why I’d told Rukov to bring the bag. That was the plan. Clean. Simple. Final.But my hands had trembled.They’d shaken like I was some scared kid holding a knife for the first time. I’d stood there, gripping her wrist, steel in one hand, her fragile skin in the other, and I couldn’t do it. The rage was there—burning hot, screaming loud—but something else got in the way. Something weak. Something I didn’t recognize.Impossible.There was no room in me for that kind of emotion. Not after all these years. I’d pulled triggers without blinking. Held guns to throats, knives to arteries, watched life drain out of eyes that stared back in terror. They never got a second chance. They never even got a breath to beg.And tonight I’d been slapped.Slappe

Amber.“What was that for!? You’re so clumsy.”Zeden’s mother’s voice cut through the sudden hush like a blade as she stepped forward and grabbed my shoulder, twisting me around to face her. Her fingers dug in hard enough to bruise.“I’m so sorry,” I said quickly, voice shaking. “It won’t happen again. I’ll get this cleaned up right away.”I reached into my pocket for the small napkin, already moving to dab at the stain on the girl’s dress.“Don’t you dare touch me with that,” the girl sneered, recoiling in disgust.“Oh my God,” Julie—Zeden’s mother—said, twisting me fully toward her now. “Just when I thought you’d stop, you go ahead and escalate even more.”She studied me like I was dirt on the bottom of her shoe.“What’s your name again?” she asked, tone dripping with mockery. She knew. She just wanted to hear me say it.“It’s Amber, ma’am. I’m sorry,” I blurted.“I wasn’t asking you to remind me your name,” she snapped. “Who cares about your name? I might not even remember your fac

Zeden.I was angry. I should be angry. There were a million reasons stacked on top of each other, each one sharper than the last, but the one that burned hottest—the one that refused to let go—was Amber.I couldn’t shake the feeling that I still hadn’t punished her.Not properly.Not the way she deserved after raising her hand to me.The image kept looping in my head: Delilah’s palm cracking across Amber’s cheek, champagne splashing over her uniform, soaking her hair, running down her face while she stood there trembling and dripping and refusing to cry in front of them. It made me sick. Physically sick. My stomach twisted every time I replayed it. I hated seeing her hurt. Hated it more than anything. And I hated even more that it wasn’t me doing the hurting. That someone else had put that red mark on her skin, that someone else had made her flinch, that someone else had drawn tears from her eyes.Every tear, every tremble, every quiet sob on Amber’s face clawed at somethi

Zeden.I was hearing voices coming out of my room. No one should be there. No one. Nobody got into my room without my permission or without me being around to allow it. I didn’t care what the reason was. Even Zameera wouldn’t dare.The moment I pushed the door open, the last person I expected to see was Amber. And she was with Zameera. They were both moving fast—searching, rummaging through drawers and under the bed, backs turned to me. They hadn’t noticed I’d walked in.“Zameera, I think we should leave right now,” Amber was saying, voice low and urgent. “Maybe when your teacher comes she can help you get another set of crayons for your coloring. We’re doing this without your daddy knowing, and Daya would be so mad that I’m helping you like this.”“No,” Zameera answered quickly. “Daddy would be so mad that I misplaced them. He hates it when I misplace things. Please help me find them. I left them here the other time.”“You’re just a child,” Amber said gently, crouching to her leve