When I came to, the blinding light seared through my vision, forcing me to shut my eyes again.
My head throbbed, and the overpowering scent of antiseptic clung to the air, nauseating me.
Slowly, I opened my eyes again, blinking away the haze until Sullivan's face came into focus. He was seated beside me, his expression stern, with Sophia next to him, her cold gaze fixed on me. And there, just behind them, was Sophie—the smirk on her lips unmistakable, like she was savoring my downfall.
"W-what happened?" I croaked, my voice barely audible, but my words caught in my dry throat.
"You passed out," Sophia said, her tone chillingly devoid of concern. She didn't even pretend to care. Her eyes flicked to Sullivan before she spoke again, her voice cutting through the sterile silence like a knife. "Eve, what's going on? Why were you with Father? What are you doing with him?"
Father? Old Man Sinclair?
"That's not important right now," Sullivan interjected, his voice hard as stone, his cold eyes boring into mine. "How did you get a billion dollars, Eve? Where did you get that kind of money?"
The words echoed in my head as if I hadn't fully processed them. My heart pounded against my ribs as it all clicked into place—the zero balance in my account, the accusations of theft.
A billion dollars?
My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes narrowed, landing on Sophie like a predator catching sight of its prey. Read exclusive content at M-V-L
"You . . ." I could barely speak through the rising fury. "How dare you steal my money!" I hissed, the realization hitting me like a truck. I had been so stupid, so careless.
In my frantic rush to save Sebastian, I'd left my laptop open. Sophie must've seen my account—accessed it somehow. Though it was password protected, that didn't matter. Not when Sullivan was involved. They had the resources to hire the best hackers in the world. It had been child's play for them to wipe me clean.
"Be careful with your accusations, young lady," Sophia reprimanded sharply, her eyes narrowing at me. "Sophie only reported what she saw. A huge sum in your account that you conveniently forgot to mention. Where did you get that kind of money? Did Father give it to you?"
My vision blurred with anger, my head swimming with pain, but beneath it all was the slow, terrifying realization—I was losing control. I could feel the emotions I'd buried deep inside clawing their way to the surface, threatening to break free.
"That money is
mine
I cursed myself for being so reckless, for letting it all slip through my fingers at the last moment.
"Young lady, you should rest," Sophie said, her fake concern grating on my nerves.
I glared at her. "You're the reason I'm here in the first place," I spat. "Get out before I do something you'll regret."
Her eyes widened, crocodile tears already forming. "What are you saying, young lady? I only reported what I saw because I was worried about you."
"Worried about a billion dollars I own," I huffed with a bitter laugh. "You've been waiting for any chance to ruin me."
Sophie's eyes widened in feigned innocence. "My lady, I would never—"
"Shut up and get out!"
Sophie hesitated, her lips twitching. "Lady Sophia said I should stay here."
"I don't need you," I growled, though my voice came out weaker than I intended. It was barely more than a rasp, trembling with anger and exhaustion.
My body felt weightless, as if I were floating on the edge of consciousness—lightheaded, unsteady. My vision swam, and the room tilted in and out of focus. If not for the weakness consuming me, I would've lunged at her, ripped her hair out strand by strand.
The rage burning inside me was fierce, but my limbs betrayed me. My fingers twitched with frustration, aching to act, yet I remained paralyzed by the suffocating weight of my own helplessness.
I glared at her through blurry eyes, hating how frail I sounded, how vulnerable I was in this moment. She stood there, smug, untouchable, and I could do nothing but wish for the strength to tear her apart.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
Sophie frowned, walking over to answer it. "Who could that be?" she muttered before pulling the door open.
Her gasp filled the room, and I turned, my pulse spiking as a fresh wave of dizziness hit me.
Standing at the doorway, to my utter disbelief, was none other than Cole Fay.
Why now . . . ?