Chapter 2 A Wounded Man

"Jonathan! She's nothing but a thief!" Tatiana's voice cracked with urgency, her frustration boiling over. "We should call the police immediately!"

Sonya, ever the picture of contrived benevolence, stepped forward with a sigh. "Dad, Mom, let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe Yelena put the bracelet in her bag without even realizing it. I'm sure she didn't mean to."

"What? She didn't meant to? Are you seriously trying to tell me that the bracelet just happened to fall into her bag? This isn't just some trinket-it's an original design by Yvonne, a true masterpiece. Irreplaceable. Yelena knew exactly what it was worth. Her greed is written all over her. It's exactly as I feared! No matter how long we raised her, we can't change her nature."

Tatiana's words lashed out like a whip, dripping with contempt.

"Mom, really, let it go," Sonya chimed in, her tone soft, almost pitying. She turned to Yelena with a sigh, her lips curving into a faintly sympathetic smile. "If she loves it so much, let her keep it. It's not like we'll see her again anyway. Though I can't deny, this bracelet has always been special to me. Yvonne is my idol, and her designs mean the world to me."

Yelena watched their performance in silence, her expression unreadable. Each line, each gesture, was delivered with the precision of seasoned actors.

If they ever decided to give up their privileged lives, they could make a fortune in the theater. The absurdity of it all almost made her laugh.

Calmly, she bent down and picked up the bracelet, letting its brilliance glint in the light. Without a word, she approached Sonya, holding the clasp up to her face. "Take a good look," Yelena said, her voice cool and composed. "Read what's engraved here."

Sonya's smile wavered, her confidence slipping as she hesitated. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned in, her gaze falling on the inscription. The elegant engraving stood out clearly-Y.R.

"How... how could this be?" Sonya stammered, her voice faltering as her shock momentarily slipped through her polished exterior.

"Aren't you a devoted fan of Yvonne's work, Sonya? Surely, you're aware that this series was designed with the option for custom engravings-each bracelet made unique to its owner. Not only that, but as a limited edition, every single piece is registered with an identification code. One-of-a-kind, impossible to duplicate." Yelena's lips curled into a wry smile. Her tone, calm yet laced with cutting mockery, was a blade honed to perfection.

Before Sonya could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence. A servant descended the staircase, clutching another bracelet in her hand.

"Miss Roberts, is this the bracelet you've been searching for?"

The room fell into stunned silence, all eyes locking onto the bracelet in the servant's hand.

Sonya, recovering quickly, plastered on a strained smile and let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Oh, there it is! I can't believe it was here all along. How silly of me!"

Her voice dripped with forced cheer, but her mind raced, panic bubbling just beneath the surface. What happened? She had been certain she'd slipped the bracelet into Yelena's bag.

Yelena's icy gaze fixed on Sonya, the corners of her lips tugging into a cool, condescending smirk. "Well, Sonya, do you still think I stole your precious bracelet? Are you sure you want to get the police involved?"

Sonya's composure wavered for a split second before she replied, "This bracelet is worth a small fortune. Tell me, Yelena, how could you possibly afford something like this? Unless..." She paused, her smile twisting into something uglier. "Unless you resorted to something less... honorable. After all, some girls these days will do anything for the right price."

Yelena's smile sharpened into a blade, her eyes glinting with icy disdain. "You seem awfully knowledgeable about that line of work, Sonya. Tell me-was it firsthand experience that taught you how these trades operate? Did you sell yourself before rejoining the Roberts family? Is that why you're so well-versed in the details?"

Sonya's face burned crimson, her mouth opening and closing in sputtering outrage. "You... you're making baseless accusations!"

"Yelena, you insolent brat!" Tatiana roared, her face contorted in rage as she slammed her fist against the armrest. "How dare you speak to Sonya like that? Get out of this house! Out of this family! And don't ever come back!"

Yelena's smile grew sharper, radiant with defiance. Her eyes glittered with icy resolve. "Beg me on your knees, and still, I wouldn't step foot in this place again," she said, her voice as smooth as steel.

Turning on her heel, she slung her worn black bag over her shoulder and strode toward the door. She didn't hesitate, didn't look back. For her, the Roberts family and their hollow pretenses were already a closed chapter. She felt no sadness, only relief. The charade was over.

"Good riddance!" Tatiana sneered behind her, venom dripping from her words.

She slumped into her seat, exhaling deeply, her lips curling into a smile of satisfaction. In her mind, the family was finally rid of an unwelcome burden.

Yelena walked out into the crisp evening air, the villa shrinking behind her. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she answered it without breaking stride.

"Yelena, I heard that they kicked you out?" Brody Hewitt's voice was sharp, brimming with agitation.

"They did," Yelena replied evenly, her tone calm but resolute.

There was a pause, and then Brody's voice hardened.

"Those people are absolutely shameless!" Brody's voice crackled through the phone, brimming with indignation. "They're the definition of fair-weather friends. Without you, Jonathan Roberts would still be floundering in obscurity. They don't even realize that you were the reason for their success..."

"That's enough," Yelena cut in, her voice calm but firm. "Any updates on my biological parents?"

Jonathan had claimed it was a mistake at the hospital, a mix-up rather than an intentional act of abandonment. That distinction lingered in Yelena's mind, fueling her determination to find her family.

Brody exhaled audibly, reining in his frustration. "Yes, the search is in progress. We should have concrete results soon."

"Good," Yelena replied crisply, ending the call without another word.

As she approached the main road, a sharp, metallic scent drifted on the cold breeze, cutting through the night air.

She stopped mid-step, her brows furrowing as unease prickled at the back of her neck.

A figure emerged from the shadows, staggering toward her. His white shirt was soaked in blood, the crimson staining his chest and hands. Each step he took seemed heavier than the last, his strength visibly waning.

"Stop running, coward! Accept your fate!" a menacing voice shouted from behind him.

Yelena's gaze darted to the source of the commotion. A group of men, dressed in black, stalked after the injured man like predators closing in on their prey. Their movements were deliberate, their intent clear.

The injured man-Austin Barton-paused, swaying but defiant. His face was pallid, his breaths shallow, yet his voice held steel. "Who are you working for?"

"Shut it! We're done talking." The man then turned to his group. "Let's finish him off already."

"Wait." Another man halted abruptly, his gaze shifting to the side. "There's someone else here."

Yelena froze as all eyes turned to her.

Her heart sank. Perfect. Just perfect. Today had been a series of escalating disasters, and now this.

It was painfully clear these men had no intention of leaving witnesses behind.

The cause of her predicament stood before her-the bloodied man staggering in her direction.

The leader of the group, a hulking figure with a cruel smirk, stepped forward. His eyes roamed over her, lingering too long, and his lips curled into something predatory.

The men around him chuckled darkly, their laughter carrying an undercurrent of vile intent.

"Don't be afraid, sweetheart," one of the men sneered, his tone mocking as his gaze lingered on her. "Once we deal with this guy, we'll take real good care of you. Whatever your pretty little heart desires-it'll all be yours."

Yelena didn't flinch. Her eyes, cold and unyielding, met his with an intensity that froze the air between them. She uttered a single word, her voice low and commanding, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Leave."

The men exchanged amused glances, still jeering, but their laughter faltered when they caught a glint of silver in the dim light.

In her hand, a set of long, sleek needles shimmered, their tips sharp and unyielding.

Yelena's lips curled into a mocking smile, her gaze sharpening into something lethal. Before any of them could process the shift in her stance, she moved. With fluid precision, her arm arced through the air, the needles slicing through the darkness like streaks of light.

Each one found its mark with unerring accuracy-throats, shoulders, legs-their targets incapacitated before a single cry could escape their lips.

One by one, the men crumpled to the ground, their weapons slipping from their hands. Their jeering confidence dissolved into stunned silence as realization dawned far too late.

Austin, still struggling to stay upright, stared at the scene in wide-eyed disbelief.

Who was this woman?

Her movements had been precise, calculated-far beyond anything he had ever witnessed. She wasn't just skilled. She was extraordinary!