Elena sat across from Sophia in the small cottage, the silver bracelet still clutched in her hand. The fire crackled between them, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor. Sophia looked older than Elena remembered, the lines around her eyes deeper, her calm smile now carrying a hint of exhaustion. "You made a mistake," Elena said quietly. "You spent years shaping me into a weapon. You destroyed my life, my memories, my sense of self. And for what? To take revenge on the wrong family." Sophia didn't flinch. She simply nodded, as if she had been waiting for this moment. "I know." Elena felt the air leave her lungs. All this time, she had believed Sophia's vendetta was personal, targeted, precise. But now the woman who had orchestrated her entire life was admitting it had all been for nothing. "Explain," Damien said, his voice tight. He stood beside Elena's chair, his body tense and alert. Sophia leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant. "My mother lost everything to a
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