Chapter 143 See You On Sunday

Chapter 143 See You On Sunday
Lana’s Point of View
My heart pounded furiously as I spoke to them. I had made myself one promise—I would never allow myself to be used by them again.
Not now.
Not ever.
I needed this job to survive, so this time, I wasn’t going to be the one running away.
Lana died five years ago.
She was stabbed through the heart by the two men she had loved most—the men she had trusted with everything she had. Then she was pushed from the very ladder she had climbed through hell to reach, only for them to make a fool of her, burn her remains, and claim the life she had fought so desperately to build.
But Lana had died in those flames.
And Elizabeth had risen from her ashes.
I was filled with nothing but poison now, and anyone who tried to drag me back into the pit I had escaped from would learn exactly how dangerous I could be.
My hands curled into tight fists at my sides as I glared at them, refusing to let the pain in their eyes weaken me.
They were both liars.
Dirty, scheming, despicable, fucking liars.
“Wait, you need to—” Christian was the first to step toward me, but Xavier immediately stretched out an arm, stopping him.
I didn't move.
I stood my ground, waiting for Christian to touch me again. If he did, I would gladly slap some sense into him.
“Please, wait.” Xavier pulled him back.
Christian looked ready to argue, but Xavier shook his head. For a fleeting moment, something unreadable crossed his green eyes.
My chest tightened painfully.
I bit down on my lip, forcing myself not to react.
I couldn't crumble now.
I kept my face perfectly straight, even as something inside me cracked. Whatever hurt they saw in my eyes, I refused to let it reach the surface. They didn't deserve to see it. They didn't deserve a single tear from me.
Christian finally stepped back, but his glare never left mine. His blue eyes were almost bloodshot, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles stood out beneath his skin.
He looked like he was seconds away from punching the nearest wall.
I held his gaze, refusing to look away, silently showing him that I wasn't afraid of him. The sooner he understood that, the better for both of us.
Without saying another word, he turned on his heels and limped away.
“Fine,” Xavier said. “Just like you want. We’ll keep things strictly professional.”
The words sounded like a threat, but he didn't understand.
I had nothing left to lose.
The shame… the pain… I had already endured the worst of it. I had been broken, betrayed, humiliated, and living made no sense.
There was nothing they could do to me now that I hadn't already survived.
I was numb.
The only thing left for me was duty, and for that, I would face even my deepest trauma without blinking, crying, or trembling.
I wasn't the same woman I used to be.
So if they thought they were dealing with the same Lana they had destroyed five years ago, they were in for a rude awakening.
“I’m glad you understand.” I sucked in a shaky breath, forcing my voice to remain steady. “And as for the contract between the agency and me, I was hired to take care of the injured player.”
I glanced at Christian.
“Your brother.” Xavier's eyebrows drew together, but I continued before he could interrupt.
“I'm not required to do anything for you. If you need my services, you'll have to contact the agency and arrange it with them. Until then, I won't be working any extra hours.”
Xavier stared at me for a moment before nodding.
“Yeah, sure. I'll contact the agency, because I'll be staying here for the next three months too.”
He stepped aside, clearing a path for me.
“Please, go ahead.” I forced myself to move.
My legs felt unsteady beneath me, but I refused to let them see it. I could feel their gazes following me as I climbed the stairs, their stares burning into my back.
I told myself I was going upstairs to start cleaning the bedroom.
That was the excuse.
The truth was, I was seconds away from collapsing.
The moment I stepped into the master bedroom and the door fell shut behind me, my knees gave out.
I crashed onto the floor.
My hands flew to my chest as a violent tremor tore through my body. My breathing became uneven, and tears immediately blurred my vision.
I had promised myself I wouldn't cry.
But promises were easier to make when your heart wasn't being ripped open all over again.
I dragged my knees toward my chest and pressed both palms tightly over my mouth, desperately trying to force the sobs back down my throat.
It didn't work.
The tears came anyway.
One after another.
Then faster.
Until they were streaming down my face without stopping.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to silence the broken sounds escaping behind my hands.
They couldn't hear me.
How could I not cry?
Wasn't it cruel enough that I had to carry this burning hatred for the rest of my life? Why did they have to show up now?
Just when I had finally convinced myself that I could forget.
Just when I thought I could build a life for myself from the ruins, they had to appear again and stir every buried emotion inside me.
I didn't know how long I sat there on Christian's bedroom floor, tears continuously slipping down my cheeks. Eventually, I forced myself to get up and start cleaning, reminding myself over and over again that I could never let those brothers see me break.
They would try to take advantage of my weakness again.
I couldn't let that happen.
I had to remember the pain.
Every betrayal.
Every humiliation.
Everything they had taken from me.
I needed to hold on to all of it so I would never make the mistake of giving in to them again.
My phone suddenly rang.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and reached for it, my eyes narrowing when I saw the caller ID.
Sam.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
“Hello,” I answered, almost immediately, I heard a heavy sigh of relief on the other end.
“And you're alive,” he muttered.
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I sniffed and wiped beneath my eyes.
“What the hell happened to you?” he demanded. “I was scared. I even called your brother. I don't know which one of them I spoke to, but the calm one”
“Leon,” I answered.
Everyone knew the twins had completely different personalities, and I loved them both regardless.
They were the most precious people in my life.
“Yeah, him.” Sam paused. “He was saying something about… hypoglycemia?”
He sounded completely flabbergasted.
“That shit is serious, Eliza. You never listen to me, do you?”
“I'm sorry,” I muttered.
“You should take better care of yourself, or you're actually going to die.”
I rolled my eyes, but there was a smile tugging at my lips.
That was probably the hundredth time someone had yelled that at me this week.
“Yes, sir,” I answered, pulling out my cleaning supplies and getting back to work while I spoke to him. “I’ll do better this time.”
“I need to see you. Probably on Sunday.” His voice softened, though there was still an unmistakable note of authority in it. “Nothing serious. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Alright.” I pulled the bedding off the bed. “I’ll meet you on Sunday.”
“Thank you. I know you resumed work today, so take things easy. And if you don't feel well, don't hesitate to tell me. I’ll have Juliet take you off your duties for the day.”
I paused.
Not because I was surprised by his concern.
But because, for the first time, I realized just how kind Sam had been to me over the past few years.
He had always been there.
Quietly looking out for me, always checking on me.
“Thank you,” I whispered before he could end the call.
The line went silent for a few seconds, and then I heard him breathe softly on the other end.
“It really means a lot to me that you’re doing so much for me.”
“You shouldn't thank me,” he finally replied. “Remember, we're not just colleagues. We're friends.”
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, wiping away another tear that slipped down my cheek.
Another smile reached my lips, at least I still had kind people like Sam in my life.
“Bye, Sam.”
“Bye, Elizabeth. See you Sunday.”