[
BONUS
Chapter
for reaching 500 PS last week! Thank you all!????]
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But a part of me still refused to accept it, to give up. I clenched my fists, fighting to keep my voice steady.
"Sophie's birthday is still a week away," I said, my voice steady but hard. "Are you really sure you want to dispose of me this early?"
Sullivan's expression didn't falter. He was unmoved, as if this were all a carefully orchestrated plan, a nuisance to be dealt with.
"Sophie has been crying for days, complaining that you've been cruel to her." His voice softened, but only when he spoke of her—his real daughter, the true heir of the Rosette family.
There was a tenderness there, a protectiveness I had never received. "How dare an orphan like you behave so cruelly toward her? The rightful heir of the Rosette family." He glared down at me with disdain, his voice dripping with contempt. "You should have treated her with respect. Maybe then you wouldn't be in this situation. You ungrateful wretch."
I scoffed, anger blazing hot in my chest. "
Ungrateful
?" I growled, my voice low and biting. "How dare you say that to me? I've been nothing but cannon fodder for Sophie, taking bullets, knife wounds, and beatings meant for her. And after everything I've endured, you still want to throw me away like trash? Tell me, Sullivan, between the two of us, who's the ungrateful one?"
The slap came so fast I barely saw it coming. My head snapped to the side, a ringing sound filling my ears as darkness danced at the edges of my vision.
Pain exploded in my skull, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. Blood dripped from my busted lip, but I met his gaze without backing down, my eyes filled with hatred.
"What?" I said, my voice cold and cutting. "Did my words hit a nerve?"
Old man Sinclair had offered me a new deal, a small, hidden glimmer of hope. As long as I could break free from here, there was still a chance. I clung to that thought, my heart hammering in my chest.
The moment one of the men loosened his grip, I seized my opportunity. Every bit of martial arts training I'd ever learned surged to the surface, and with a swift move, I freed myself from his hold.
My body moved on instinct—fists, elbows, and knees striking at any opening I could find. If I was going to die here, then I'd die fighting.
But then, a deafening
bang
rang through the air. A sharp, searing pain ripped through my side, and my body collapsed, crashing to the cold ground. My breath came in ragged gasps as shock and agony paralyzed me.
I pressed a hand to the wound, warm blood seeping through my fingers, but it did nothing to stop the overwhelming pain.
"What the hell are you doing?" one of the men shouted, his voice distant, as if coming from underwater.
"She's as good as dead anyway," another replied. "Might as well finish her off now and dump her somewhere."
"Idiot! Sullivan said to let her live—ship her to the island! She's still useful . . . if her real family . . . in the future . . ."
Their voices faded in and out as my vision blurred, the world tilting on its axis.
Real
family
? The words cut through the fog clouding my mind.
I have a real family?
A new wave of confusion hit me, but it was too late to think clearly. Still, the thought clung to me like a lifeline—I have a real family.