Chapter 9 – Something Familiar
Everything around me froze.
My ears rang.
What did she just say?
Coma?
I turned slowly to see who had spoken.
It was a woman. She looked like she was in her mid-fifties. Well-dressed. Classy. Stern.
Dahila froze. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Coma?
No. No, that couldn't be right. Maybe I was being pranked. Maybe this was a dream.
He can't be in a coma. That's impossible. Why would they marry me off to someone who can't even stand beside me? What brought him to a coma?
My mind started spinning in circles. Everything felt slow and fast at the same time. My stomach twisted, and my legs suddenly felt weak.
The woman stepped forward.
"When I told you about my son," she said, staring at Dahila with sharp eyes, "what exactly did I tell you?"
Dahila slowly nodded, her head dropping like a guilty child.
"You told me he was in a coma," she whispered.
"Then why didn't you tell him?" she snapped, pointing directly at me.
Dahila bowed her head lower, lips still trembling.
She didn't answer.
"Why didn't you tell him? Answer me!"
Dahila swallowed hard. "I didn't think it was necessary to tell him. I… I thought it was just random information. I believed he'd find out himself when he saw him."
My body went cold. My knees were trembling, and my eyes burned. I couldn't even feel anything properly.
"But you claimed that," the woman said again, "and yet, when he asked you why the groom wasn't here, you lied again. You told him he was traveling. You didn't forget—you purposely hid the truth."
Dahila had no words.
"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" I said, my voice low and shaky.
She glanced at me but couldn't look me in the eyes.
My throat tightened. My eyes burned again, and this time a single tear slipped down.
"Was the money so important to you," the woman said coldly, "that you had to keep such a huge secret from him? You knew everything. You knew what you were doing. And still—you didn't care."
"You knew I asked you," I said, almost choking. "I asked you who the groom was. Why he was being married off without his consent. I asked you why you didn't want him for your own daughter… but wanted him for me. You gave me excuse after excuse… lie after lie."
I clenched my fists and stared at her with all the pain that was building in my chest.
"So now, tell me why," I said. "Why did you do this?"
She opened her mouth.
My eyes were red now.
Another tear slid down my cheek, but I didn't wipe it.
The woman looked at me gently, then said, "I'll excuse you both. The car taking you to my son's house will be outside. Once you're done here, come out."
She turned and walked away, heels clicking softly against the marble floor.
I didn't move.
I just stood there, breathing hard.
Then I slowly raised my head and looked at Dahila.
There was no emotion left in my voice.
"I knew you were greedy… but I never knew you were this greedy."
Her lips trembled.
I took a step closer and stared at her one last time.
"Are you cursed with greed, Dahila?" I asked quietly. "Or are you just proud of it?"
Now it all made sense. Everything.
Back when she first told me about the marriage, she was so careful with her words. Always twisting things, always hiding something. I asked questions—so many questions. And every single time, she gave me half-answers or changed the topic completely.
She lied to me.
Now I understood why she didn't want her precious daughter Elaine to marry him. It wasn't because of class or image or any of that nonsense she spat before. It was because she knew he was in a coma. She knew there was a real chance he might never wake up.
She didn't want that life for her own child. But for me?
I was good enough to be thrown into it.
"You know what?" I said, my voice low but firm, shaking with rage. "I'm calling this marriage off."
Her eyes widened like she didn't hear me right.
"H-huh?" she stammered.
"I said I'm calling it off," I snapped. "If you really want this marriage so badly, then give your beloved daughter to him. You think I'm a fool?"
She stepped back a little like my words.
"No, Avery, you can't do that. Didn't you see the reward for doing this? Think of what you're gaining—"
I cut her off.
"Reward?" I scoffed, laughing bitterly. "I wouldn't even call it a reward. This feels more like a punishment."
And that's when it hit me.
I remembered the contract… The deal.
I had already signed.
That's why she did all this. She waited until I signed—until I was stuck—and then let everything unfold.
She trapped me.
I took a deep breath and stared her down, rage boiling inside me.
"Stay the fuck away from me," I told her coldly. "Don't call me. Don't text me. Don't even think about me. Once I get the full money, I'll send you the part we agreed on. You'll get your share. But after that, I want nothing to do with you ever again."
I turned around and walked away.
I could hear her calling my name behind me, but I didn't stop. I didn't even look back. What was the point?
There's no forgiveness for this.
Because if I forgive her… what next? What worse thing will she do next time?
Outside, the black car was already waiting. The driver stepped out, opened the door for me, and I got in without a word.
The ride was long.
I didn't say a word. Just stared out the window, numb.
After what felt like hours, the car finally stopped.
"We're here," the driver said.
I stepped out.
The house in front of me was… stunning.
It looked like something out of a magazine. Elegant. Expensive. Like money lived in every corner of its walls.
But I couldn't even enjoy the view. My heart was too heavy to admire anything.
Before I could knock, the front door opened.
A woman—maybe in her early thirties—stood there, dressed in a clean black-and-white uniform. She gave me a polite smile.
"Welcome, sir. We've been expecting you," she said.
I nodded silently, too drained to even fake a smile.
"Please, follow me. I'll show you to your room."
I followed her into the house. The floors were marble. The walls were decorated with expensive art and tall glass windows. Everything looked perfect.
But then… we passed a hallway. One of the doors was closed, but from behind it, I could hear beeping. The kind of beeping you only hear in hospitals. Machines. Monitors. Tubes.
I froze for a moment, my heart skipping.
That must be him. My… husband.
I clenched my fists and kept walking.
The maid stopped in front of a room and opened the door.
"This is your room," she said. "Someone has already been sent to collect your personal items. Your clothes will arrive later, but for now, you can use some of your husband's. They're in the wardrobe."
I tried not to react.
I stepped inside the room. It was huge. Tastefully decorated. Definitely fit for someone rich… or royal.
I looked around slowly.
Then something caught my eye.
A picture frame. Sitting quietly on the drawer beside the bed.
I walked over to it, my hands slightly shaking.
I picked it up.
It was a young boy.
"Who is this?" I asked the maid.
She smiled gently.
"That's your husband."
I almost rolled my eyes.
Could she please stop calling him that?
I just stared harder at the photo.
There was something about his face…
Something familiar.
I tilted the frame slightly, narrowing my eyes.
Why does this man look… so familiar?