Chapter 39: Chapter Thirty Eight

Athena

The words struck deep, deeper than I expected, stealing the breath from my lungs. I already knew it. I had always known —deep down, I had always known it. But hearing it said aloud, so bluntly, made it hurt in a way I hadn’t prepared for. 

Made it real in a way that shattered something inside me. If Jonah was willing to say it, then maybe—just maybe the rest of the household must have thought the same.

I had never truly belonged here. And now, there was no denying it.

"You don’t understand—I have nothing!" My voice wavered as I spread my arms helplessly. "I don’t even have shoes on. This is all I have, and it’s not even mine." I gestured to the hospital outfit clinging to my body. In my rush to get out of the cab, I’d left my slippers behind, not realizing it until now.

Jonah stepped forward, his patience visibly thinning.

"And that’s our problem because…?" His voice was cold, devoid of emotion.

I flinched as if he had struck me. If he had, I doubted it would have shocked me more. My gaze darted between the two men, and the realization settled like a stone in my stomach. 

Michael—someone I had considered a friend, someone I had trusted—was turning his back on me. It hurt more than I wanted to admit. But I couldn’t even blame him. He was just doing his job.

Still, that didn’t make it sting any less.

"Now leave," Jonah ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

I had nowhere else to go.

Minutes passed. Then half an hour. Then another.

"I said leave!" Jonah’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and edged with impatience.

I exhaled shakily, lifting my gaze to meet theirs. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" My voice was quieter this time, softer.

Michael’s smirk was instant. "Enjoying what?"

"Watching me beg. Watching me suffer."

His smirk faltered, if only for a second, but Jonah simply rolled his eyes.

"Enough. We’re done here." Jonah lifted a hand toward the CCTV camera mounted on the fence. A second later, the gates unlocked with a heavy metallic click and began to open. My breath hitched. My heart leaped. A gasp escaped me, my eyes widening.

"Oh, thank you!" The words tumbled out in relief as I took a step forward.

Jonah blocked my path.

"Where do you think you’re going?" He grabbed my forearm, his grip firm.

"I thought—" I stopped mid-sentence as the truth hit me again, cruel and undeniable. They weren’t letting me in. They were kicking me out. Jonah had come out for one reason—to remove me from the premises.

"Smart girl." He taunted, smirking at the look on my face, as the realization dawned on me.

Rage bubbled up inside me. I hated that look, that smug, satisfied smirk on his face, and the way he seemed to revel in my humiliation. Jerking my arm free from his grasp, I shot him a glare.

"Don’t touch me!" I snapped.

Jonah's patience snapped. In a swift motion, he drew his gun and aimed it at my chest. I froze, my breath shallow, staring wide-eyed at the weapon, unable to comprehend what was happening.

The weight of betrayal pressed down on my chest, each breath a struggle. I looked past the gun, past the familiar faces of the men I had once greeted daily, and toward the house that had never truly been mine.

I staggered back, hands raised. “You’re pulling a gun on me?” My voice trembled with disbelief.

Jonah’s expression remained cold. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled.

Silence stretched between us. Then, slowly, I stepped back, my shoulders sagging under the weight of defeat. Jonah had drawn his gun, and I knew it wasn’t just his decision—it was Beatrix’s will, too. And I knew one undeniable truth: I had no chance against a gun, did I?

My chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, my vision blurring with unshed tears. The truth settled over me like a crushing weight. I was alone. Utterly and completely alone. There was no one left to turn to.

Heartbroken, I cast one last, empty glance at the house I had once convinced myself was home. But it never was. It never would be. With that final, bitter acknowledgment, I turned away. The oversized hospital gown billowed around me, its fabric too loose, too thin—a stark contrast against the heavy darkness of the night.

Barefoot, weak, and abandoned, I stepped onto the sidewalk, my feet dragging across the pavement. I had no destination, only the certainty that I couldn’t stay. There was nothing left for me here.

Behind me, the gates remained closed—cold, unyielding. Just like the woman who had ordered them shut.

The home I had known, the life I had clung to, the illusion of belonging, was gone.

As I walked along the dimly lit street, thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the night for a fleeting moment before darkness reclaimed it. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and before I could fully process my thoughts, a steady drizzle began to fall. 

Within seconds, my cardigan was soaked through, the dampness seeping into the thin fabric of my hospital attire, clinging uncomfortably to my skin.

I wrapped my arms around myself, pulling the cardigan tighter, but it did little to fend off the shivers wracking my body. My mind was a chaotic storm—panic, exhaustion, and the crushing weight of everything that had just unfolded. 

A lump formed in my throat as I stared down the empty road, silently pleading for a miracle. Perhaps it was too much to ask, but I clung to the fragile hope that something—someone—would appear. That, for once, fate wouldn’t be so cruel.

As if answering my unspoken prayer, the sudden glare of headlights made me flinch, and my heart stuttered in my chest. A sleek black car slowed to a crawl beside me, its tires slicing through puddles, sending ripples across the rain-slicked pavement. At first, I barely registered its presence—just another passing vehicle—until the back window rolled down.

I squinted, trying to make out the figure inside, but the darkness and rain distorted my view.

“Athena?”

The voice was deep, familiar, sending a jolt through me. My breath hitched, and I froze mid-step, though I didn’t turn. A part of me feared I was imagining things, that my exhausted mind was playing cruel tricks on me.

“Stop the car,” the voice commanded.

The driver barely had time to react before the back door swung open. Eros was already unbuckling his seatbelt, his hand gripping the door handle as the car came to a stop a few feet ahead of me. 

Without hesitation, he stepped out, the rain soaking through his expensive suit, but he didn’t seem to notice.

"Athena?" The voice called out again, firm yet carrying an undertone I couldn't quite decipher, slicing through the night with unmistakable certainty. "Athena Sanderson?"

At the sound of my full name, I finally turned. The moment my eyes met his, the dam inside me broke. The fear, the frustration, the sheer exhaustion—I couldn’t hold it in any longer. A sob tore from my throat as relief surged through me like a crashing wave.

I had prayed for a miracle.

And somehow, the heavens had sent him to me once again.