–Laura–
The moment Carrie swaggered into the hall, draped in that blood-red bridesmaid dress, something inside me snapped.
Red—the color of betrayal. Red—the color of blood.
Red—the color they chose to celebrate a wedding they had already slaughtered.
Dad moved before anyone could stop him.
The sound of his hand colliding with Carrie's face cracked through the room like a gunshot.
Silence froze the crowd, just long enough for Grandma Olivia to step in and land her own brutal blow across Carrie's other cheek.
Carrie staggered, clutching her face, mascara streaking down her skin like black scars.
Casey—her mother, the puppet master behind it all—screeched and lunged, but she couldn't undo what was already unleashed.
And then the video played.
A slow, crawling nightmare flickered across the giant screen.
First, the grainy footage of Carrie in Livana's wedding gown—Livana's dress—on her knees before Richard.
My stomach turned violently.
It wasn't just a sex tape. It was an execution.
An annihilation of every ounce of trust, of dignity, of hope.
The gasps of the crowd turned into ugly whispers, and then into gleeful jeers.
Phones were out everywhere, recording, snapping pictures like a pack of vultures descending on a corpse.
Carrie screamed, "It's fake! Dad! It's a setup!"
Her voice was a desperate, shrill sound that only fueled the flames.
"SHUT UP!" Grandma Belinda roared, her voice raw with fury.
"Livana will NEVER marry into the Knox family! Not after this filth!"
Dad didn't wait for permission—he threw himself at Richard, fists flying.
Richard barely got his hands up before blood splattered across the polished marble floor.
Screaming, chaos, hysteria—
It all blurred together in a howling storm of violence and betrayal.
I looked through the madness and found him—Damien.
Grinning in his waiter disguise, standing at the edge like he was the devil who had just pulled the final trigger.
Good. I hoped he was proud.
I grabbed Livana's trembling hand, grounding her as Grandpa Edward marched through the wreckage.
"I hereby BREAK this engagement," Grandpa bellowed, his voice rattling the chandeliers overhead.
"My granddaughter will NEVER be bound to your cursed family!"
"Wait—please, Mr. Edward," Roland Knox stammered, his face blotchy and desperate.
"This isn't just Richard—your granddaughter seduced him! She—!"
"She's not my granddaughter," Grandpa hissed, spitting the words like venom.
He turned on his heel.
"Gregory! THROW THEM OUT!"
My father flinched as if he'd been physically struck.
For once, the puppet strings tangled around him snapped.
He could barely scramble to obey.
The Knox family and their loyal lapdogs were dragged from the estate like trash being hauled out into the street.
But it wasn't over. Not for me.
I stormed toward Carrie, rage surging through me, burning hotter than anything I had ever felt.
She glared at me, but there was fear there now, too.
Good.
I slapped her so hard her head snapped to the side.
"You think you're the victim?" I spat, voice shaking with fury.
"You bribed a nurse to blind my sister. You tried to destroy her life—AND you dared to wear her wedding dress."
Carrie opened her mouth to scream at me, but I didn't give her the chance.
I turned and slapped Casey, her painted face snapping back with the impact.
"You're just as guilty!" I roared. "The pepper spray, the lies, the sabotage—you thought you could buy Livana's pain with blood money!"
Dad tried to grab me, to silence me—again.
But before he could even touch me—
THWACK!
Grandma Belinda's fan cracked down on his head like divine punishment.
"Don't you DARE!" she bellowed.
"Stop it, Laura!" Dad barked, his voice tight with shame, with fear—but mostly weakness.
I jerked away from him like he was something filthy.
"Protect them, then," I hissed. "Keep your pretty little second family safe. Turn your back on us like you always have."
My chest heaved with the weight of everything I had bottled up for years.
Every sleepless night. Every silent scream.
Every time I watched Livana stumble in the dark, reaching for a world that would never fully return to her.
"You never fought for her!" I shouted, voice breaking. "You never fought for US!"
Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to fall apart now.
I straightened my spine, fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.
"You lost us the day you chose THEM."
I turned my back on him.
Forever.
Livana gripped my hand, her voice a whisper only I could hear.
"Let's go home."
We would never call this place home again.
We made it two steps before Sharlane Knox pushed through the wreckage, pleading.
"Livy, please—there must be something we can do—"
Livana stopped.
Her hand slipped from mine.
The air around her changed—gone was the trembling girl.
In her place was something stronger, colder.
"Aunt Sharlane," Livana said softly.
"I would rather marry a demon than marry into your family."
Her voice didn't even tremble.
It sliced.
And we both knew exactly which demon she meant.
Richard sobbed like a broken child, crawling after her on his knees.
"Livana, PLEASE! Don't leave me! I love you!"
Livana flinched back, repulsed.
I wanted to crush him under my heel.
Carrie, a crumpled, weeping wreck in her mother's arms, dared to look at me with hatred.
I smiled.
A slow, cold smile that promised this was just the beginning.
"Grandpa," I said, voice ringing in the ruined hall, "we're leaving."
"I'm coming too," Grandpa Edward said immediately.
But Livana shook her head.
"No, Grandpa," she whispered, reaching blindly for him. He caught her hand tenderly.
"You stood up for me today. That's enough."
She kissed his hand—a farewell.
And when we walked away, hand in hand, I knew it.
We weren't just leaving the estate.
We were leaving the ashes of everything they had ever built.
And from those ashes, Livana and I would rise.
Stronger.
Colder.
And utterly untouchable.
Because we are not just hunting the one who blinded Livana—we are also hunting the one who murdered our mother.
My sister made her choice: she married into the family our bloodline has hated with every breath.
But I don't hate the Blackwells.
Sometimes, enemies are the only ones who show you the truth—cold, sharp, and without mercy.
Damien Blackwell, my so-called enemy, has never once lied to me.
His honesty cuts deeper than any betrayal my own family ever dealt.
He is a Blackwell by blood, but a brother by choice—and I chose him long before I even knew what loyalty really meant.
Just like Livana chose Damon Blackwell—over a family already rotting, festering, and too far gone to save.