The last of Hunter's men hit the floor. The ballroom fell into a heavy, shaking silence broken only by sobs and the distant echo of gunfire upstairs. Damien lowered his weapon, chest rising and falling, while Mel stood frozen in the center of it all—her father lying in a widening pool of red at her feet.
Her mother collapsed over the body, wailing. Milo and Miles held each other, crying openly. But Mel… she didn't move. Her face was blank, her eyes distant—hollow. She felt nothing, or maybe too much to feel at all.
Upstairs, the final battle raged on. Lucas and Hunter exchanged blow after blow, each hit fueled by rage . Blood streaked the walls; both men were barely standing. Lucas clutched his wounded side, Hunter fired blindly with one ruined eye. Just when it seemed neither would survive, Damien appeared—cold, precise—and ended it. No hesitation. No words.
He grabbed Lucas before he collapsed and guided him downstairs.
The moment they stepped into the hall, a sharp crack broke the air. Mel was slapped across the face by her mother as her head whipped to the side. Her mother stood trembling, tears streaming, voice dripping with fury.
"This is your fault!" she screamed. "Your father is dead because of you! If you had just stayed away from that monster—if you had married Hunter like we planned—none of this would have happened! We brought the devil into our home, and now look at us!"
The room shook with her words. All eyes turned to Mel. She stood there, cheek red, mascara streaking, her hands trembling—but her voice was barely above a whisper.
She didn't cry. She didn't break. She simply whispered to herself, "I never asked for any of this."Understood. I will keep it deeply emotional, traumatic, and powerful, but I'll handle the sensitive elements with respectful language — still giving it the full dramatic impact you want.
---
Mel's voice finally cracked, years of silence tearing open at once.
"I never asked for any of this," she choked out, stepping back from her mother. "You welcomed him into our home, not me. And after he tried to kill me five years ago… nothing was ever the same. Not you. Not Dad. Not Milo or Miles. All of you looked at me like I was broken—like I was no longer your daughter, but a burden you wished away."
Her mother's face twitched, but Mel didn't stop. The words poured out like a dam finally collapsing.
"You dragged me to that psychiatrist, thinking it would 'fix' me. I spent a whole year in that place, Mom. A year." Her voice trembled into a sob. "You have no idea what he did to me… what he took from me. I was hurt, manipulated, violated, and experimented on like I wasn't human. And when the drugs he gave me wiped my memories, you called it 'treatment.'"
Tears streamed down her cheeks as her knees weakened.
"The nightmares… the insomnia… the panic. I live with it every single night. And all of you pretended everything was normal. You smothered me, controlled me, watched me like a prisoner instead of helping me heal." She clutched her chest, gasping through the pain as her voice broke into a wail. "Do you know how suffocating that is, Mom? To live in a house full of people who refuse to see your pain?"
Her mother stood frozen, pale, trembling. Milo and Miles stared at their sister with shattered expressions. The truth hung in the air like smoke—heavy, undeniable, impossible to breathe through.
---
All that remained was the echo of Mel's trembling voice—and the truth that shattered everything.
Mel stood in the center, her dress torn, her mascara running, her body shaking from rage and years of swallowed pain. Lucas stood only a few steps away, his knuckles broken, blood dripping down his arm from the fight with Hunter, whose lifeless body lay upstairs. But even bleeding, even exhausted, Lucas could not move. He was frozen—staring at Mel, powerless.
Her mother sobbed on the floor, hands trembling, unable to reach her daughter.
"Melody… please," her mother cried. "I never meant to hurt you."
Mel laughed—but there was no humor in it. Just pain, sharp and jagged.
"Hurt me?" Mel's voice cracked as she pointed at her. "You threw me into that psychiatric prison like I was garbage. You told them to erase my memories—because you wanted me to forget the night Lucas stabbed me. Not heal. Just forget. And you call that helping me?!"
Her mother covered her face, shaking violently. "I thought… I thought if you forgot, you could be happy again. I just wanted you to be happy—"
Mel screamed, her voice raw and broken, cutting her mother's words in half.
"I WAS TORTURED, MOTHER! Do you understand that?!"
The crowd flinched. Delilah cried openly now, her hands over her mouth. Luke, Blake, and William stared at the floor, their guilt suffocating them.
Mel's voice shook like glass about to shatter.
"They tied me to a bed like an animal. They injected me until I couldn't move. They told me I was crazy for screaming Lucas's name. I woke up every night choking on my own tears. I tore my nails trying to escape those walls, and every morning they drugged me again!"
She pressed a hand to her chest as though her heart might burst.
"I begged for you," she whispered to her mother. "I begged for someone to save me. I prayed for a hand to pull me out. But no one came. No one. I died in that place. A thousand times."
Her mother crawled toward her on her knees, crying so hard she could barely breathe.
"Melody, I didn't know. I swear to you—I didn't know they were hurting you. Your aunt said—"
"Don't you dare blame her," Mel spat, stepping back. "You signed the papers. You sent me there. You abandoned me. You chose your pride over your own child."
The entire hall shook with silent grief.
Delilah sobbed harder.
"Oh, Mel… how could I not see you were in pain? I'm your best friend. I'm supposed to know something was not right. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—"
Blake punched the wall, frustrated and destroyed.
"She was right in front of us. And we didn't see anything."
William swallowed hard, voice breaking.
"We let you walk through hell alone. We failed you, Mel."
Luke wiped his eyes and whispered,
"You didn't deserve any of it. Not one second."
Then Mel turned, slowly, painfully, toward Lucas.
He stood bleeding, fists trembling, jaw tight, his eyes glassy with guilt and rage.
"You stabbed me, Lucas," she whispered, her voice faint but sharp as a blade. "And instead of letting me heal, they erased me. They erased everything I was. I woke up every day wishing the night you stabbed me had just killed me, so I wouldn't have to relive it in my nightmares."
Lucas's breath hitched. He stepped forward, voice breaking.
"Mel… I'm sorry. I never forgave myself for that night. I would take that moment back a thousand times if I could. I swear I didn't know what your parents did after— I had no idea what you went through ."
She closed her eyes, tears spilling.
Lucas swallowed, pained.
"I thought the person I stabbed that night was an assassin sent by my brother and when I found out it was not an assassin,I blamed myself for letting that happen.I am so sorry"
Before Mel could respond—
Police sirens wailed outside. The hall doors burst open. Officers rushed in, escorting wounded criminals out on stretchers as well as Hunters lifeless body upstairs. People gasped and stepped aside.
Then another stretcher rolled in, covered by a white sheet.
Mel's mother screamed the moment she saw it.
"No—NO! Please, not him!" she wailed, collapsing again as her husband's lifeless body was wheeled past them.
Mel stared, numb and unblinking, her voice suddenly quiet and empty.
"So it ends like this," she whispered. "You tried to fix me… and you destroyed all of us."
Her mother sobbed uncontrollably.
"Melody, forgive me… please. Please—please don't hate me."
For a moment, Mel said nothing. Her body swayed, exhausted from the weight of trauma, grief, and betrayal.
Lucas caught her before she fell.
"I've got you," he whispered, holding her tightly. "I'm here now. And I swear, Mel—no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I'm alive."
Mel's voice trembled against his chest.
"I don't want revenge, Lucas. I just want the pain to stop. I'm so tired. I just want it to stop…"
Lucas closed his eyes, holding her as though she might disapper.