Chapter 52 Make Her Pay
BELLA
I scrolled through the files Elowen had sent a series of damning photos and videos of Roy. Each image tightened the coil of anger in my chest. My fingers trembled, but not from fear. No, this was something else. You made me into this, Roy. I hope you’re ready to face the version of me you created.
Elowen called again. “I can post it for you,” she offered, her voice steady and determined. “No need to get your hands dirty.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. That was Elowen always protective. “Thanks, but this is my fight. I need to do it myself.”
“Just… be careful, Bella,” she said, her tone softer now. “If something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Relax, Mom,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve got this.” I ended the call before she could protest further.
Sitting at my desk, I created a new anonymous account. No digital trail, no breadcrumbs. The post went live a snippet of Lizzy’s illicit life for the world to see.
Let’s see how you play this game, Lizzy.
I shut the laptop and walked to the window. The night air was cool against my skin, but it did little to calm the storm inside me. All I ever wanted was peace. A normal life. Not this endless battle. Not with you, not with David.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. The doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand. His face was neutral, but I knew better than to trust that.
I moved toward him. “What’s the news?”
He glanced at the papers, then back at me. “We ran the tests. Unfortunately, your bone marrow isn’t a match for your father.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. “So… what now?”
“We’ll check the registry for a compatible donor. It might take about a week.”
A week? I swallowed the lump in my throat, my eyes drifting to my father lying motionless in the hospital bed.
Then his fingers twitched.
“Doctor!” I called, rushing to his side. “His hand moved.”
The doctor was at my side in seconds, his eyes scanning the monitors, checking vitals. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as he worked.
Finally, he turned to me, a small smile breaking through. “He’s stable.”
Stable. The word echoed in my mind. For so long, I had prepared for the worst. But now… now there was hope.
Tears welled up in my eyes as my father’s lids fluttered open. His gaze found mine, and for a moment, he just looked at me, as if memorizing my face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rough from disuse.
I shook my head. “Don’t. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
“No, Bella.” His hand tightened around mine, weak but insistent. “I couldn’t give you the life I promised.”
“Dad,” I said softly, “you’ve always been enough. The best dad anyone could ask for.”
His eyes darkened with something I couldn’t place. Regret? Guilt? “There’s something I need to tell you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”
He hesitated, his gaze distant, as if gathering the strength to say the words.
“I should have told you years ago… but I didn’t know how. Now, I have no choice.” His voice broke. “Bella… I’m not your biological father.”
The room tilted.
I pulled my hand from his, stumbling back. “What… what are you saying?”
His eyes pleaded with mine. “I raised you as my own. But… I’m not the man who gave you life.”
The floor seemed to shift beneath me. My knees gave out, and I sank to the cold, sterile tiles. He’s my father. He has to be.
But the look in his eyes told me everything.