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Chapter 13 - Chapter 13

When I woke up the next morning, my body still ached, but it was nothing compared to the heaviness inside me. The nurse said I could go home, and Martha quietly helped me pack. Alex had gone ahead to "handle the paperwork."

Of course he did. Always doing things efficiently, always avoiding words.

The ride home was silent, just the hum of the car engine and the sound of my heart trying to steady itself.

When we pulled into the driveway, I didn't expect to hear voices inside.

Familiar ones.

My chest tightened before I even stepped through the door.

The moment I did, my mother's sobs filled the air. "Ava!" She rushed to me, hugging me so tightly I almost lost my breath. "My baby, I thought...oh, thank God you're safe."

"I'm fine, Mom," I whispered, though the bandage around my neck said otherwise.

Behind her stood my father, arms crossed, expression unreadable, and beside him, my sister Mira, looking effortlessly elegant as always, in her soft beige coat and scarf, her hair swept to one side.

My mother finally pulled away, dabbing at her tears. My father's eyes, cold and calculating, met mine. "This marriage was supposed to bring stability," he said, his voice clipped. "Not headlines."

"Dad..."

"Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to get a call saying my daughter was attacked at a public event?"

"Ralph!" my mother snapped. "She was the victim!"

He ignored her. "And you," he said, turning to Alex, who had just stepped in. "You were supposed to protect her."

Alex's expression didn't change. "She's alive," he said simply.

My father scoffed. "Barely."

Something in me cracked. "That's enough," I said quietly, but it came out firmer than I expected.

He glared at me, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Always talking back. Just like before."

Before. When I was seventeen and wanted to go to art school, not business. When I stopped trying to be the son he wished I was.

"Maybe if you listened to me," he continued coldly, "things wouldn't always fall apart around you."

I opened my mouth, but the words tangled in my throat. I could only stare, wishing I could shrink into the marble floor.

"Ralph, please," my mother said, her voice breaking. "Not now."

But he was already walking away. "Call me when she learns to behave like a Matteo."

And just like that, he left.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then Mira walked up to me and gently took my hand. "Ignore him," she said softly. "You know how he is."

Her voice was warm, steady, exactly what I needed.

I swallowed hard. "You came all the way from Paris?"

She smiled faintly. "Of course. You think I'd let some lunatic hurt my sister and stay away?" She brushed a strand of hair from my face and lowered her voice. "You scared the hell out of me, Ava."

Something in me loosened. I managed a small, tearful laugh. "I scared myself too."

She squeezed my hand. "Then stop doing that, okay?"

I nodded.

"Good," she said, exhaling. "Now come on, let's get you upstairs. You look like you could fall over any minute."

Alex stepped aside to let us pass. Our eyes met briefly, and for a moment, I saw something flicker there, guilt, maybe, before his gaze hardened again.

.......

Later that night, after my mother and Mira left for the hotel, the house fell into its usual silence.

I sat by the window, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the moonlight spilling across the floor.

Down the hall, a door shut quietly. Alex's, again.

My chest ached.

Mira's words replayed in my head: "You scared the hell out of me."

But what scared me most was how easily my life was starting to feel like a stranger's.

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