Chapter 4

The world outside the ballroom was a blur of flashing lights and shouting voices. Sophia's grip on my arm was firm, her nails digging into my sleeve. Daniel was on my other side, his hand on my back, guiding me with false gentleness.

The stress, the noise, the raw emotional onslaught was too much. My vision swam. My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor of the hotel lobby.

The last thing I remember was Sophia's panicked cry, "Somebody call an ambulance!"

I woke up in a hospital bed. Again. The smell of disinfectant was sickeningly familiar. A thin blanket was pulled up to my chin. My head throbbed, and the deep ache in my side had returned with a vengeance.

My eyes were closed, but I was awake. I kept my breathing even and slow. I listened.

Sophia and Daniel were in the room, their voices hushed.

"Did you see his face?" Daniel said, a note of cruel satisfaction in his voice. "He looked like he was going to die right there. It was perfect."

"It was too much, Daniel," Sophia whispered, but there was no real concern in her tone, only strategic calculation. "Playing the video again? People will think you're a monster."

"They'll think I'm a forgiving brother who misjudged his crazy step-brother's fragility," he countered. "You saw how you looked, rushing to his rescue. The loyal wife. It solidifies our story. He's the broken one. We're the ones holding him together."

A pause. I could imagine them standing there, looking down at my still form.

"What about the divorce papers?" Sophia asked, her voice tight with anxiety. "He knows, Daniel. He said... he asked about the kidnapping."

"He knows nothing," Daniel scoffed. "He's paranoid. He's been living in a fantasy world for five years. He's grasping at straws, probably had a breakdown and invented some conspiracy theory. We stick to the plan. We act concerned. We tell everyone he's had a complete mental collapse. This incident proves it. We can even get him committed if we have to."

I felt a cold dread seep into my bones. They weren't just content with destroying my life. They were prepared to erase my sanity, to lock me away forever.

"The papers were real, though," Sophia fretted.

"So what? A judge will take one look at him and that video and declare him incompetent. We'll have him grant us power of attorney. This is a good thing, Sophia. It speeds everything up. We can take the rest of his money and be done with him for good."

The door creaked open. It was Lily.

"Is Dad okay?" she asked, her voice small.

"He's just resting, sweetie," Sophia said, her voice instantly transforming into one of warm maternal care. "He had a little episode, that's all. The stress was too much for him."

I felt a light touch on my forehead. Lily. Her hand was cool.

"He looks so pale," she murmured.

"Don't worry," Daniel's voice was smooth and reassuring. "Your mother and I will take care of everything. We'll always take care of you."

I heard the rustle of clothing, then a soft kiss. Not for me. For Sophia. From Daniel. Right here in my hospital room, beside my bed.

My heart felt like a block of lead in my chest. The betrayal was so complete, so casual. They stood over my unconscious body, planning the final stages of my ruin while acting out their twisted family drama.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to leap out of bed and throttle them. But I forced myself to remain still, to breathe deeply and evenly. My anger was a liability now. I needed a clear head. Daniel was right about one thing: they thought I was broken. It was the only advantage I had left.

I let them see what they wanted to see.

When I finally "woke up" an hour later, I was disoriented and weak. Sophia was by my side, her face a mask of worried devotion.

"Ethan? Oh, thank god. You're awake. You gave us such a scare."

I looked at her, my eyes blank. "What happened?"

"You fainted," she said softly, stroking my hair. "The media, the stress... it was all too much. The doctor said you're suffering from extreme exhaustion and emotional distress."

Daniel stood at the foot of the bed, his expression one of deep remorse. "Ethan, I am so, so sorry. I never should have played that video. It was a stupid, insensitive thing to do. I don't know what I was thinking."

Lily just stood in the corner, chewing on her thumbnail, unable to meet my eyes.

I let out a long, shaky breath. "I just... want to go home," I whispered.

"Of course, honey," Sophia cooed. "As soon as the doctor says you're stable, we'll take you home."

For the next two days, they smothered me with their fake care. Sophia spoon-fed me soup, plumped my pillows, and read to me from magazines. Daniel brought me flowers and expensive chocolates, regaling me with cheerful, empty stories about the firm's success. Lily would come in, sit for a few minutes in silence, and then leave, a cloud of guilt hanging around her.

I was trapped in a theater of the absurd, forced to watch my tormentors perform a play of love and concern. Every gentle touch felt like a spider crawling on my skin. Every kind word was a drop of poison.

I closed my eyes, feigning sleep, but the images wouldn't stop. Sophia kissing Daniel's scar. The empty look in Lily's eyes. The mocking laughter in the ballroom. The words from their conversation in this very room, planning my final disposal.

The pain was a physical thing, a constant pressure behind my eyes, a hollowness in my chest where my heart used to be.

On the third morning, Sophia came in early, a bright smile on her face.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she chirped, opening the blinds. Sunlight streamed in, hurting my eyes. "The doctor said you can go home today."

She leaned down to kiss my forehead. I didn't flinch. I didn't react at all. I just stared at the ceiling.

This was my new strategy. Not anger, not confrontation. Emptiness. I would become a ghost in my own life, a passive observer. I would let them believe they had won, that they had finally broken my spirit.

"I'll go sign the discharge papers," she said. "Daniel is waiting downstairs to drive us home. He took the day off just for you."

She swept out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

I knew he wouldn't be able to resist. He would want to gloat, to have one last moment of triumph over me while I was at my weakest.

I waited.

A minute later, the door swung open. It was Daniel. He closed the door behind him, a predator's smile playing on his lips. The mask of concern was gone.

"Just the two of us," he said softly.

It was time for the final truth.