Chapter 26
Seraphine's POV
Octavius left without a backward glance. I stood alone in the lounge, a hollow feeling echoing in my chest.
Flynn knocked and entered. "Ms. Whitaker, Mr. Capulet asked me to inform you that you may leave now."
I nodded, my spirits sinking as I returned to my office. I had just won a decisive counterattack, exposing Brielle and Amara's conspiracy to the world, yet I felt no trace of victory's joy.
The office was empty save for me, the sky outside slowly darkening. I stared blankly into the twilight, a sense of dread creeping into my heart. I was afraid Octavius would decide that a woman like Quinlan—from a privileged background, bright and generous—was a better fit for him. And I, with my messy life and unspoken feelings, would only bring him trouble.
Just as the feeling became almost suffocating, my phone rang. The word "Father" flashed on the screen.
I took a deep breath and answered.
"Seraphine, you have to come quick! Come to Serenity Health Center!" Heath's voice was laced with an unprecedented urgency. "Brielle tried to kill herself—she slit her wrists. She lost a lot of blood, the doctors are still working on her. You have to get here now!"
Slit her wrists? My first reaction was disbelief. Brielle, that selfish, manipulative woman who used tears as her primary weapon, would never have the guts to do something so drastic to herself. This had to be another one of her desperate schemes, a pity play now that she was backed into a corner.
"Okay, Dad. I'm on my way." I said, grabbing my car keys and rushing to the hospital.
When I pushed open the door to the VIP room, the scene was exactly as I'd imagined. Brielle lay pale and listless against the pillows, her hair disheveled, her wrist wrapped in white gauze that was faintly stained with blood. Amara sat by her side, clutching her hand, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Heath stood nearby, his face grim and exhausted.
All three of them looked up as I entered. Brielle's eyes met mine and instantly filled with tears. Her lips trembled as she spoke, her voice weak. "Seraphine, you're here… I'm sorry! I really know I was wrong. I shouldn't have schemed against you, I shouldn't have used dirty tricks to get on stage." Her voice broke with a sob. "I can't forgive myself. My being alive only brings shame to the family. This was the only way I could apologize to you."
I stood at the door, watching her tearful performance without a flicker of emotion. It was the same old trick, using self-harm to garner sympathy. Hadn't Brielle used this tactic countless times in our past life?
"Seraphine." Heath said, turning to me, his face etched with weariness. "Look, Brielle is like this. She's been punished. No matter how big her mistake was, for the sake of family, for the sake of the fact that she almost lost her life, just forgive her this once."
My heart sank. My grievances, everything I had suffered, was it all to be dismissed just because Brielle threw a dramatic fit?
At that moment, the door to the room was thrown open, and Mitchell burst in, his face a mask of urgency. He didn't even look at me, his eyes fixed on Brielle. "Brielle, how are you? Are you okay?"
He rushed to her bedside, his concern palpable. He started to reach for her wrist, then, catching sight of Heath and me, he quickly pulled his hand back.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Mitchell, that was quite a performance. So heartfelt, so moving. Anyone who didn't know better would think the woman on that bed was the great love of your life. Truly an eye-opener."
Heath's face instantly darkened. He rounded on Mitchell, his voice sharp. "Mitchell, who let you in? You're not welcome here! Get out!"
Startled by the outburst, Mitchell turned pale and quickly faced me, offering a lame explanation. "Seraphine, don't misunderstand! I just think of Brielle as a sister. I heard she was in trouble and I was worried, so I came to see. My heart is only for you."
"Enough!" I cut him off, feeling nauseated by his words. I couldn't stand to be in this sickening place a moment longer. Taking a deep breath to quell the rising bile, I walked toward the bed.
Brielle tensed.
I looked directly at her, my voice calm and devoid of any emotion. "Brielle, listen to me. I forgive you."
I saw a flicker of triumph in her eyes.
"I'm forgiving you not because your little pity party was so convincing, but because of Dad. I don't want to make things difficult for him." I paused, my gaze sweeping over Heath.
"You must be exhausted, putting on such a show."I took a step closer, leaning down toward Brielle, my voice low enough for only the two of us to hear. "But you remember this, Brielle. Cherish this chance you've bought with self-harm. Behave yourself from now on. Don't pull any more of these cheap tricks. And don't even think about testing my limits again. You might not be so lucky next time."
Without waiting to see the color drain from her face, without another glance at anyone else in the room, I turned and walked away, my steps firm and resolute.
But as I stepped out of the hospital entrance, before I could even take a breath of the cool night air, a swarm of reporters materialized from all directions. Their cameras were instantly trained on me, flashes popping like a barrage of tiny explosions, blinding me.