Chapter 2

The morning after the truth shattered my world, the air in the mansion felt heavy, thick with unspoken lies. My limbs, still weak from years of forced inactivity and Carter's insidious drugging, ached with a dull, persistent throb. But the pain in my heart eclipsed all physical discomfort, a gaping wound etched deep into my soul. It was a phantom limb, the love I' d had for Carter, now violently amputated.

Carter appeared at my bedside, a forced smile on his face, a glass of my usual "recovery" smoothie in his hand. His eyes, once perceived as caring, now seemed hollow, reflecting only his calculated pretense.

"Good morning, my love," he chirped, his voice a practiced balm. "Slept well? You were out pretty quickly last night." He brushed a strand of hair from my face, a gesture that used to fill me with warmth, now only disgust. "I had a late meeting, but I made sure Jade looked after everything."

He offered the smoothie, a symbol of his deceit, its creamy texture now sickeningly repulsive. I looked at it, then at his expectant face, a flicker of defiance igniting within me. The old Alayna would have taken it, grateful, subservient. But the old Alayna was dead.

"No," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, though it felt like shards of glass in my throat. I pushed his hand away, the glass clinking softly against the nightstand. "I don't want it."

Carter' s smile faltered, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He wasn' t used to defiance from me. His perfectly sculpted facade cracked just slightly. "Is everything alright, sweetheart? You usually love your smoothies."

"I'm fine," I replied, my gaze unwavering. My tone was flat, devoid of emotion, a subtle shift that seemed to baffle him. It was the quiet contempt of a queen addressing a peasant, though he hadn't realized his demotion yet.

He hesitated, then slowly, reluctantly, placed the glass back on the nightstand. "Alright, if you insist. What can I get you then?" He sounded perturbed, annoyed by this unexpected deviation from my programmed routine.

"Just water," I said simply. "Plain water. From the tap."

He nodded, still looking confused, and turned to summon the maid. When Maria, our kind housekeeper, arrived, her eyes widened slightly when she saw the untouched smoothie.

"Maria, Mrs. Kelley would like some tap water," Carter instructed, his tone a little sharper than usual. "And please, make sure it's just water."

Maria glanced at me, then at the smoothie, a subtle flicker of apprehension in her eyes. "Of course, Mr. Kelley. But... Miss Jade said Mrs. Kelley's drinks are to be specially prepared. She put strict instructions not to deviate."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Jade. She wasn't just his assistant; she was the warden of my prison. She controlled everything, even my basic hydration. My jaw tightened.

"Is that so, Jade?" I asked, my voice cutting through the air like a knife. Jade, who had just entered the room, stopped dead in her tracks, a smug expression on her face. Her eyes narrowed as she met my gaze.

"Just ensuring your well-being, Alayna," Jade replied, her voice saccharine sweet, a stark contrast to the venom she'd spewed last night. "You know how delicate you are. And sometimes, people like us just don't know what's best for ourselves. Especially when we're... confined." Her gaze swept over my still legs, a condescending smirk on her lips. "I'm just thinking of Carter's reputation. He can't have his wife looking anything less than perfectly cared for, can he? It reflects poorly on him."

My stomach churned. The sheer audacity, the cold manipulation. She was suggesting I was a liability, a stain on his perfect image. For a fleeting moment, I felt a familiar wave of despair, the crushing weight of her influence, the years of subtle gaslighting that had made me doubt my own sanity. It settled deep in my core.

My gaze instinctively flickered to Carter, a silent plea for support, for him to see the truth, to defend me. He stood beside Jade, his arm still casually around her, his face a picture of feigned neutrality. The hope, a tiny, foolish ember, died instantly.

"Jade is right, Alayna," Carter said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. He even gave Jade's arm a reassuring squeeze. "She's just looking out for you. You do tend to... overthink things. And your condition, you know, it can be quite draining. We just want you to be comfortable." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a condescending whisper. "Don't make a fuss, darling. It's not a good look."

The words were an invisible chokehold, stealing my breath. My condition. The very thing he had caused. The ultimate betrayal. My eyes burned, but I refused to let the tears fall. They weren't worth it. He wasn't worth it.

A profound clarity washed over me. This wasn't about misunderstanding, or a momentary lapse in judgment. This was a deliberate, calculated campaign to destroy me, orchestrated by the man I loved, aided by the woman whose father had crippled me. They were a pair of vipers, coiled and ready to strike. The despair morphed into a cold, hard rage, a furnace burning deep within my chest.

I took a deep breath, consciously smoothing the raw edges of my emotions. "Of course, Carter," I said, my voice calm, almost serene. "You're right. I apologize. Just a glass of water, Maria, please."

Carter looked at me, a flicker of surprise, then relief, crossing his face. He actually believed me. Believed my submission. He was so blinded by his own arrogance, by his sense of control, that he couldn't see the volcano brewing beneath my placid exterior. Fool.

"See, Jade?" Carter said, a smug smile returning to his face. "She understands. Always does, eventually." He gave Jade a triumphant look, as if he had just tamed a wild beast.

Jade returned his smile, then turned her gaze back to me. A flicker of pure, unadulterated triumph danced in her eyes, a silent, vicious declaration of victory. She tilted her head, a soft, malicious smirk playing on her lips.

I focused on the patterned wallpaper, on the tiny imperfections in the plaster, anything to keep my gaze from Jade' s triumphant face, from Carter' s complacent one. My mind was a whirlwind of memories, broken promises, and chilling revelations. He had promised forever, promised care, promised a life. All hollow words, designed to keep me confined, both physically and emotionally.

As Carter left the room, presumably to deal with some urgent tech CEO business, Jade' s demeanor immediately shifted. The sweet smile vanished, replaced by a cruel, predatory grin. She picked up a delicate porcelain figurine from my bedside table, a gift from my grandmother, a small bird perched on a branch. She examined it, turning it over in her hand, her eyes glittering with malice.

"You know," she said, her voice low and venomous, "this house, these things... soon, they'll all be mine. Every last piece." With a flick of her wrist, she let the figurine drop. It shattered on the marble floor, a sharp, violent sound that echoed in the quiet room. She didn' t even flinch. "Just like everything else."

I watched, motionless, a silent scream trapped in my chest. She was systematically dismantling my life, piece by piece, right in front of me.

"Tell me, Jade," I asked, my voice barely a whisper, but laced with a new, chilling resolve. "How is Fidencio? Your father."

The name hung in the air, a poisonous cloud. Jade froze, her face draining of color. Her eyes, usually so confident, darted around the room, a flicker of panic in their depths. "What are you talking about?" she stammered, her voice thin, forced. "I don't know anyone by that name."

My gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering. A cold satisfaction spread through me. My suspicions were confirmed. "Don't play dumb, Jade. Fidencio Howard. The man who hit me and left me for dead. Your father."

Her composure shattered. Her eyes, wide with fear, suddenly narrowed with a desperate, cornered animal's rage. "So what if he is?" she spat, her voice rising, losing all pretense of calm. "He did you a favor, you pathetic cripple! You were just a hindrance to Carter, a broken toy he was forced to keep!" She took a step closer, her voice a hiss. "And Carter? He always hated you. He married you for your family's connections, but he loved me. Always. He covered up my father's accident, not for his sake, but for mine. To keep me safe, to keep me by his side. You were never more than a temporary inconvenience!"

The words, though confirming my worst fears, no longer held the power to shatter me. They were merely pieces of a puzzle, now fully assembled, revealing a picture of utter depravity. I felt a surge of nausea, but it was quickly replaced by an icy calm.

"And the empire you think you're building with him?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft. "It's a house of cards. Built on lies and my suffering."

"My empire, Alayna," she corrected, a twisted smile returning. "Carter has promised me everything. He's building it for us. You're just a ghost in the machine, a forgotten memory. Soon, you'll be out of this house, out of our lives, and no one will even remember you existed." She picked up my silver-plated cane, a symbol of my fragile independence, and with a sneer, snapped it over her knee. The sharp crack echoed in the room, a brutal punctuation mark to her cruelty. "You see this? This is what's left of your pathetic life. Nothing."