Chapter 4
Mabel's neck was bleeding, and she tried to speak, but fear had stolen her voice.
If I pressed a little harder, I could've ended her right then and there.
But at the last second, reason pulled me back from the edge.
She wasn't worth ruining my life over.
One day, I'd make her answer for it with her life.
Mabel was trembling all over, the bracelet on her wrist swinging wildly with every shake.
That bracelet, Isabel's keepsake, was the only thing she had left behind.
Ten years ago, after my brother died, I was burning up with a fever, barely clinging to life.
Just for looking at that bracelet a little too long, my dad kicked me out of the house.
When I was at my weakest, Mabel abandoned me in some disease-ridden foreign country. I almost died there.
Without hesitation, I tore the bracelet from her wrist and slammed it hard onto the floor, shattering it.
Then I shoved Mabel aside and headed straight for the door without looking back.
As the bracelet shattered, my dad's voice rang out, shocked and furious.
"You little bastard! That was Isabel's most treasured thing," he yelled.
Ronnie's face darkened instantly, and he scrambled to pick up the broken pieces from the floor.
Mabel's sobs echoed through the room. This time, her grief was real.
Just as I stepped out the door, someone suddenly grabbed my arm from behind.
I turned around and saw Ronnie's face, dark and stormy.
Now that was something I didn't see every day.
All these years, I'd never seen him lose his composure like this.
His voice was cold and unyielding. "Apologize to Isabel and Mabel."
I tried to pull my arm away, but he only tightened his grip.
My wrist throbbed, and I could see the veins standing out on the back of his hand.
He'd finally lost it.
I met his unhinged gaze and answered him, enunciating each word: "Even if I die, I'll never apologize to them."
Ronnie suddenly squeezed with a burst of force.
I could almost hear my bones popping out of place.
His gaze was like a blade, fixed on my face as he ground out each word through clenched teeth. "I said, apologize."
I met his icy stare and replied, enunciating each word, "No. Way. In. Hell."
Ronnie's face twisted with rage as he suddenly shoved me against the wall, gripping my shoulders.
When I came to, my back was already slammed hard against the wall.
The pain pierced right through me, and through my blurry vision, I saw his hand shoot up, wild and out of control.
Behind me, Mabel's heartbroken sobs rang out again.
Ronnie shoved me aside and hurried over to her, trying to calm her down.
Right before I walked out, I caught one last glimpse of the storm raging in his eyes.
All that hatred and fury, totally undisguised—like he was ready to rip me to shreds right then and there.
He definitely wasn't going to let this slide.
After leaving the Ochoa mansion, I tried to drive off, only to realize one of my hands wouldn't move at all.
It was because Ronnie had twisted my wrist so badly.
I called a driver and told him to take me straight to the hospital.
Sitting in the back seat, as the world finally quieted down around me, I realized I was still shaking.
Snow was still coming down outside the window, and the night was getting deeper.
Twenty-eight years old today, and as always, only my enemies bothered to remember—just so they could twist the knife a little deeper.
The driver handed me a tissue from the front seat.
"Hey, miss, why are you crying? If something's weighing on you, maybe talk to someone at home, okay?" he said.
My tears suddenly broke free, and I ended up losing it in front of a stranger.
Everything started to blur, and my thoughts were slipping back to the old days.
When I was twelve, my dad brought home Isabel and her mother, Mabel.
Isabel was just a month younger than me. She was my dad's secret daughter.
My mom spent over ten years as a housewife, and her family gave her a lot of money. And all of it went straight into my dad's business ventures.
By the time her family's fortunes declined, my dad's business was already thriving.
She loved my dad deeply, but when he betrayed her, she was heartbroken and couldn't accept it. But there was nothing she could do about it.
My brother and I did everything we could to protect her, always keeping a wary eye on Isabel and Mabel.
But we were still kids; we had to go to school and had to live in the dorms.
I could see my mom getting thinner by the day.
Later on, my brother and I moved out of the school dorms and started commuting, just so we could stay by her side.
But one afternoon, we suddenly got a call. My mom had suffered a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital.
She'd never had any heart issues before; it must have been triggered by something that hit her hard.
By the time my brother and I made it there, she had already passed away in the ER.
Mabel and Isabel were bawling, playing the victims, but their eyes gave away their true colors—malice and satisfaction they couldn't hide.
My brother and I lunged at them, ready to tear them apart.
The bodyguards who used to protect us now held us down, just doing whatever Dad said.
That night, my brother and I sat together on the hospital rooftop for a whole night.
I said, "I want to go be with Mom.
"She's always been so timid. She'll be even more scared down there."
The wind on the rooftop was bone-chilling, and all I could see was endless darkness.
My brother hugged me tight and said, "Kaylee, don't cry.
"As long as you have me, you'll always have family. You'll always have a home."
I didn't cry.
His tears soaked my shoulder.
No matter how deep our hatred ran, it was no match for being just kids who couldn't do a damn thing.
My brother and I kept living in the dorms.
Isabel and Mabel stayed at the Ochoa mansion, acting like they owned the place.
With each passing year, they became even more unbearable.
On my eighteenth birthday, Mabel had a mentally unstable person break into the cemetery and try to desecrate my mom's grave.
The caretaker caught them just in time, barely stopping them from digging up even her ashes.
That night, my brother finally snapped and actually laid hands on Mabel. He broke three of her ribs.
Mabel put on her usual act, crying and claiming she was innocent.
Isabel couldn't let it go, and half a month later, she had me kidnapped and dragged to the riverbank.
But when my dad showed up, she suddenly changed her mind.
She untied me, then pretended I'd pushed her into the river.
She knew I wouldn't just stand there and let her drown, and she was counting on my dad to jump in and save her, too.
But for once, Isabel got it wrong.
As night fell, I stood by the riverbank, watching Isabel struggle in the water—cold and emotionless, not lifting a finger to help.
My dad called the cops in a panic, then started yelling at me like he'd lost his mind.
He shouted, "Save Isabel. Save her! Why did you push her in?"
I shot him a smile and said, "Why don't you jump in and save her yourself?"
He froze, then started shaking like a leaf—completely paralyzed by fear.
Oh, he didn't have the guts.