Chapter 137

Chapter 137
Warning: The following chapter may contain content that some readers may find sensitive. I recommend reading with discretion. It may contain: aggressive language, use of firearms, insinuations of abuse, psychological abuse, death, etc.

Sofia Bliss

From the moment I stepped into that house, something inside me screamed that nothing there was genuine.
Deep down, I knew it wasn’t.
It felt like an alarm buzzing quietly beneath my skin, an uncomfortable itch, a constant sense that I was being watched… weighed.
As if every smile had been carefully rehearsed. Every gesture. Every word.
They were trying to buy me—
or test me.
They showed me pictures of my mother when she was young, smiling as if the world had never touched her with cruelty.
They showed me her neatly folded clothes, her old toys, memories of a life I never had access to. A version of Serena I didn’t know—
it felt almost like the house Andrew had shown me.
Almost the same sensation.
And I would be lying if I said it didn’t affect me.
Because, in a way, it hurt… it hurt deeply.
Because deep down, that was all I ever wanted—to know that happy woman from the pictures, to know my mother.
I wanted to know what she was like before she spent her life running, afraid.
I wanted her to smile at me the same way she smiled in those images… in those memories that weren’t mine.
It stirred something warm in my chest—
and at the same time, something bitter.
Everyone in that house treated me too well.
Warm. Caring.
But even with all that… even with the bait perfectly crafted to catch my attention…
I never forgot why I was there.
Letícia.
And I also didn’t forget who the real villains were—
the real killers.
And that was what almost made me explode from the inside.
"Focus. We need to find Letícia," I kept repeating to myself, and to my wolf—who was furious at all that false affection.
Every step I took in that house wasn’t because I was falling for their lies or their forced nostalgia.
It wasn’t because of “family ties” that only existed when convenient for them.
Adrian stayed at my side the whole time, his shoulders tense, ready to attack at any second.
I felt his discomfort almost as if it were my own.
He hated that place.
He hated those people.
And I knew that if it were up to him, he would’ve flipped that dinner table upside down already.
But this was the only way.
Even without sensing my cousin’s scent, something inside me whispered that she was there.
No… I was certain.
When we sat at the table, the conversation flowed naturally.
They asked countless questions about me, about my life, as if they truly cared.
As if they weren’t the same people who had orchestrated everything—the tragedies, the cruelty, the pain in my life.
My grandmother sat beside me.
Her face resembled my mother’s.
And I’ll admit… that shook me a little.
She spoke softly, affectionately, touching my hand now and then, as if it were natural—
As if she had done that my whole life.
She said she was happy I was there.
That she had waited a long time for this moment.
Then she mentioned the gift.
She said she wanted to give me something special—
Something that would have been my mother’s on her wedding day with Andrew Hoffman.
Hearing his name still twisted something inside me.
I tried to decline politely, saying maybe another day, that it didn’t have to be now.
But she refused with a gentleness that was far too firm to be real kindness.
“No, dear. Please. I want everyone to see you wearing it.”
She smiled.
“It’s important. For the family.”
I looked into her eyes and understood immediately.
It wasn’t about a necklace.
It was about something else entirely.
And I agreed because I needed to know what it was.
Adrian stood up at the same moment—pure tension in his body.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t like it. I felt it.
But he trusted me anyway.

We walked up the stairs together.
As we walked, she talked about my grandfather—about how much he would have loved to see me now, strong grown.
When I asked why he wasn’t there, she looked away.
He said he was “handling a few things.”
That he would return soon with “some surprises.”
Nothing about that answer sat right with me.
The farther we went, the more I noticed the positioning of the room.
Too far.
Too isolated.
As if chosen specifically for this moment.
When she opened the door, even from a distance I saw my mother’s things scattered inside.
Clothes, boxes, and personal items.
It wasn’t a lived-in room—it looked more like a storage place, where they had kept her belongings after she fled.
“Was this my mother’s room?” I asked, forcing myself to step forward, even as the wolf inside me refused to.
He didn’t want to cross that threshold—
he was suspicious, afraid.
“Yes… and someday, if you want, it can be yours,” she answered, with a smile that never reached her eyes.
I looked inside again.
Something was wrong.
I didn’t understand what it was yet, but the feeling was like trying to listen with cotton shoved into my ears.
My wolf moved inside me, even more confused, as if trapped behind thick walls.
Then a soft breeze drifted from inside the room—
And with it came a familiar scent.
Not my mother’s.
Letícia.
I walked deeper into the room without thinking, scanning everything.
There was a bathroom inside, door closed. Suspicious.
Beside me, a vanity. I moved toward it.
My grandmother opened the wardrobe and pulled out a red box, decorated with gold. When she opened it, the necklace caught the light and gleamed.
It was beautiful.
Elegant.
But my entire body rejected it.
My wolf snarled inside me.
“Grandma… I’m not sure I can wear something that belonged to my mother,” I tried, while she guided me to sit at the vanity.
She cut me off, firm.
“You’re going to wear it. It always belonged to you. If she were alive, I’m certain she would give it to you herself.”
When she approached to put the necklace on me, a voice echoed inside my head—
weak, distant… but desperate.
Don’t put it on… it’s poison… it’s a prison…
Why was the voice so faint?
Why could I barely hear my wolf?
Look around… pay attention… be careful…
So I looked.
And suddenly everything clicked—
hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
This room wasn’t just a room.
It was a cage.
I saw it then—
a faint shimmer spread along the walls, subtle but everywhere.
The same metallic tone as the necklace.
What was that?
Was that what was muting my wolf?
Was that what was—
My limbs grew heavy, my eyelids slow.
Weakness washed over me like cold water.
Shit… I needed to get out. Now.
I turned quickly to leave, but my grandmother was already blocking the doorway.
She looked affected by the same force I was—which meant the room wasn’t meant to restrain her.
It was built for someone like me.
I raised my hand to push past her—
But then the bathroom door opened.
And the scent hit me all at once.
Like a bomb detonating inside my lungs.
Letícia.
She stood inside—bound, gagged, her face bruised, her body marked with deep shadows of violence.
What—
What had they done to her?
I wanted to scream, to run to her—
but my grandmother lifted her hand, a simple gesture…
And I understood.
Two men stepped forward from the bathroom’s sides.
Armed.
Blades pressed against Letícia’s throat.
“I thought you would cooperate more, Sofia,” my grandmother said—
now without a shred of sweetness.
“But no… it seems you are just like your mother.”
She pointed at the necklace.
“Sit. And put it on. Or…”
Her eyes drifted back to Letícia.
And I understood completely.