Chapter 165 Truth Bomb

Chapter 165 Truth Bomb
Justine POV

I sit in the dim light of my room, the heavy velvet curtains drawn tight against the creeping dawn. My mind, as always, is a storm—a churning mess of memories and regrets that I can't seem to escape, no matter how much I try to drown them in the silence of this cursed house.

I remember the day I agreed to marry Russell, thinking his oddities were mere quirks, that beneath his brooding exterior lay something worth salvaging. How naive I was. Russell, with his unpredictable temper, finds a twisted joy in humiliating me. His words cut deeper than any blade, and his laughter echoes in my nightmares. I stopped seeing him as my husband long ago. He's nothing more than a tormentor.

Then came Anthony, Russell's father. His attention was a momentary escape from the icy grip of this family. After I lost the child, Anthony's interest in me faded. He never showed me any care again.

I think of Cherry, the young woman who's stumbled into this den of wolves. She's got Nicholas, though—someone who seems to genuinely shield her from the darkness that festers here. I envy her for that. If I had someone like him, maybe I wouldn't feel so hollow. Maybe I wouldn't be pleading with her to let me go to the training area to court death.

The door slams open, jarring me from my thoughts. Russell storms in, and I brace myself for the inevitable. "You look pathetic, Justine," he sneers, his voice dripping with venom. "Can't even keep a child in you. What good are you?"

His words are a match to the kindling of my anger. I've endured his taunts for too long. But tonight, something snaps. I stand, my hands trembling, and let the truth spill out like poison. "It wasn't yours, Russell. It was Anthony's. Don't you know your own limits? Or do you really think that child could've been yours?"

His expression twists into something grotesque, a mix of shock and fury. His eyes, dark and unhinged, bore into mine. "I figured as much," he growls, stepping closer. "Thanks for confirming it."

I don't flinch, not this time. I'm done cowering. "Kill me, then," I say, my voice steady despite the storm in my chest. "Your father violated me. Just end it. Do me that kindness."

He grabs my arm, his grip bruising, and yanks me toward him. Then, just as quickly, he shoves me away with a snarl. "You're my toy, Justine. I decide when you live or die. You don't get to choose. You want death? Fine. I'll make sure you wish you'd never asked for it."

Before I can react, he drags me toward the hidden door at the back of the room, the one that leads to his so-called "private space." The air is thick with the metallic tang of fear—mine, and perhaps others who've been here before me. Implements of torment line the walls, glinting coldly under the single overhead bulb. He doesn't hesitate. He uses them with a precision that chills me to the bone, each strike a calculated wound to my body and soul.

"Russell, please," I gasp, my voice breaking as pain sears through me. "I can't do this anymore. Let me go."

He doesn't stop, not for hours. Not until the first gray light of morning creeps through a crack in the wall. Finally, he steps back, his chest heaving, and delivers one last barb. "Remember, your life is mine to control," he spits, before turning and leaving me crumpled on the cold floor.

I curl into myself, tears streaming down my face, my body a map of bruises and shame. But as the pain ebbs into a dull ache, something else takes its place—a resolve, dark and unyielding. If no one in this wretched family cares for me, then none of them deserve to live in peace. I'll shatter this house from the inside out. I'm already broken; what more do I have to lose?

My mind flashes to a night weeks ago, when Russell was passed out after one of his binges. I'd crept into his study, rifling through his desk in a desperate search for anything—money, keys, a way out. Instead, I found files and photos, a hidden cache of secrets that could unravel everything. Emily, Johnny's daughter, killed by Laurel, his own wife. And Laurel herself, taken out by Sophia in a calculated act of retribution. The truth is a ticking bomb, and I hold the fuse.

If I whisper this to Johnny, the Salvatore family will implode. I don't care about the fallout. Let it burn. Let chaos reign. I'm nothing but a husk now, a ghost in my own skin. What does it matter if they all tear each other apart?

I drag myself to my feet, ignoring the sharp pain that lances through me, and make my way to Johnny's room. The door is ajar, and I see him inside, hunched over a flickering hologram of Laurel, speaking to it as if she's still here. It's pitiful, but I'm beyond pity now.

"Johnny," I say, my voice raw but steady. "I know who killed Laurel. And Emily."

His head snaps up, eyes red-rimmed and haunted. I don't wait for him to speak, diving straight into the brutal truth.

Laurel, consumed by a love so intense it turned to madness, was unable to bear the daily sight of Emily as a living reminder of Johnny's past with another woman. She orchestrated the unthinkable, hiring someone to eliminate the child. Then, with chilling precision, she masked her guilt behind a facade of grief, fooling everyone—almost.

Sophia saw through it. She confronted Laurel, intending to put an end to her dangerous games, but Laurel's desperation erupted. She threatened to take Johnny down with her, to unravel every secret.

The nurse who attacked that day was no random threat; she was Laurel's pawn. Sophia thwarted the attempt, but it was the final straw. She resolved that Laurel couldn't be allowed to continue, and the car crash that followed—a meticulously planned act—was her solution.

Johnny's face contorts with disbelief, then rage. "You're lying," he snarls.

"I have proof," I counter. "I can show you."

He shakes his head violently, his voice rising to a near scream. "No! Laurel wasn't capable of that. And Sophia wouldn't kill her. You're out of your mind, Justine!" Before I can say more, he's on his feet, shoving me out the door with a force that nearly topples me.

I stumble into the hallway, my voice echoing against the walls. "I'll prove it to you! You'll see!"

The door slams shut behind me, but I'm not done. I've backed up those files, hidden copies where Russell can't find them. Once I retrieve them, I'll shove the truth under Johnny's nose. Let him deny it then. Let this whole damn family drown in their own blood and betrayal. I want to see the storm break. I want to watch them all suffer as I have.