Chapter 153

Chapter 153

Marcus's POV

The air outside the hospital was cold as a blade, slicing across my face—numb and stinging at the same time.

But I couldn't feel it.

My head was still foggy, yet my legs moved forward on autopilot.

I never imagined Jade had been deceiving me all these years.

Hallucinogenic drugs, hypnosis, long-term manipulation—that wasn't me. That wasn't what I did to Serena. It was Jade, using my hands like a weapon, carving into that child's flesh one cut at a time.

But the suffering Serena endured was real.

Those scars were real.

She was still lying in that hospital bed right now, incoherent, unable to even remember her own name. And I—her biological father—stood here, powerless to give her anything.

I climbed into the car, my voice hoarse as old sandpaper. "Take me home."

When the driver pulled up to Sterling Estate, the lights along the outer walls flickered on one by one, coating everything in a false warmth.

I pushed open the front door.

The scene in the living room made me freeze on the threshold for a full second.

Jade sat on the leather sofa with a face mask on, the white sheet clinging to her skin, gold-shimmer eye cream glistening beneath it. She held a glass of red wine, lazily draped against the cushions. Vivian lay beside her, legs slung over the armrest, eyes glued to her phone screen, a careless smirk on her lips. The low hum of some reality show murmured from the speaker.

Mother and daughter, utterly at ease. As if nothing had ever happened.

In that moment, what surged through me wasn't anger—anger was too shallow for this feeling.

It was a bone-deep chill.

Like someone had ripped out my entire spine and filled the cavity with ice water.

Jade noticed me and peeled the mask off her face with practiced ease. The wrinkles vanished instantly beneath a mask of concern. A flicker of panic crossed her features, but she suppressed it just as quickly. Her voice softened, smooth as a rehearsed stage play. "Marcus, what are you doing home at this hour? You look terrible. Are you feeling unwell? Let me have the kitchen make you some hot soup."

"Unwell? Of course I'm unwell."

I walked over to her. Stood before her. Leaned down and grabbed her by the collar. The silk fabric crumpled in my fist, letting out a faint tearing sound. She gasped, and finally, her eyes showed real panic.

"Tell me. What exactly have you been feeding me all these years? And the hypnosis—was that you too?"

"Marcus, what are you talking about?" Her voice trembled, but she was still trying to hold it together. "When have I ever given you anything strange? Are you sick? Overworked? Sit down, let me call someone—"

I threw the stack of medical reports in her face.

The white sheets unfolded, scattering across her lap and the sofa cushions. The laboratory's blue letterhead was blindingly clear.

"See for yourself."

She lowered her head and picked up the papers, her eyes scanning line by line.

I watched her face turn a shade paler—not just pale, but a grayish death-white. The kind of color that surfaces when someone's caught red-handed, a body's instinctive betrayal.

Three seconds of silence.

Then she looked up, and tears spilled down her cheeks.

Fast.

She grabbed my hand, her voice choking, laced with grievance, accusation, and that tone I'd heard a thousand times before but only truly understood today. "Marcus, I didn't mean to! I just loved you too much! But you've always kept Grace in your heart, only had eyes for Serena. Vivian and I were nothing to you! I just wanted you to see us, to have a place in your heart."

I shook her hand off.

"So you hired Dragon to hurt Serena? Let Vivian steal her identity?"

I pointed at her nose, fury boiling over. "Serena is my daughter. Do you hear me? She's my daughter. What the hell were you thinking? You call this love? This is sabotage. You turned me into a lunatic who could hurt his own child."

My voice started shaking uncontrollably.

"Do you know what Serena looks like right now? She's lying in a hospital ICU, barely conscious, unable to even recognize my face. All because of you. Because you fed me those drugs and turned me into your weapon."

Vivian sprang up from the sofa, bare feet slapping against the imported marble floor. She rushed over and grabbed Jade's arm, crying and shouting, "Mom, explain to him! Dad, we didn't mean it, it's all a misunderstanding, just listen—"

"Misunderstanding?"

I turned my gaze to Vivian.

She flinched under my stare and took half a step back.

"You impersonated Serena, stole her mother's heirlooms, and helped your mother destroy her. That's a misunderstanding?"

Jade realized tears wouldn't work. Her expression shifted completely in that instant.

Like a piece of paper torn open to reveal what was underneath.

She wiped away the tears, stood up, and met my eyes head-on. Her voice carried a desperate madness, the twisted honesty of years of pent-up resentment. "Yes, I drugged you. I had you hypnotized. But why do you think I did it? Because all you ever cared about was Grace—that dead woman! She's been gone for years, and you still think about her every day. All you care about is Serena. You never cared about Vivian or me. I wasn't going to accept that!"

She stepped closer, her voice rising. "I've been married to you for years, sacrificed everything for this family, and you never once looked at me! Vivian is your daughter, but you never paid her any attention! I just wanted us to have a decent life. Is that so wrong?"

My whole body trembled.

"How have I not been good to Vivian? I felt sorry for her being branded a bastard child, always favored her. But you still think it's not enough? You had to make me—her father—destroy Serena, ruin her life, before you'd be satisfied?"

I took a deep breath, my voice dropping, colder than before. "Jade. We're getting a divorce."

She froze.

Then she laughed.

Not crying. Laughing.

A smile curled at the corner of her mouth, carrying a confidence I'd never seen before, a certainty that sent a chill down my spine.

"Marcus, you want to divorce me?"

She slowly placed a hand on her lower abdomen, her voice steady, each word crisp and clear. "Impossible. I'm pregnant. Right now, I'm carrying your child."

I stood there, feeling something snap in my brain.

"What did you say?"

"I said, I'm pregnant." She repeated it, her eyes gleaming with a quiet triumph. "It might even be a son. If you divorce me now, you'll lose this child."

Footsteps echoed down the hallway—the sound of a cane tapping against the hardwood floor.

My mother, Dorothy, walked in.

She stood in the shadows of the archway. I didn't know how long she'd been there, but judging by the look on her face, she'd heard at least the last part. She stepped into the living room, her eyes falling on Jade's abdomen. In that moment, her gaze lit up like a lamp switched on from within.

"Jade, you said you're pregnant? Is it true?"

Jade nodded quickly, stepping forward to take Dorothy's hand, her voice brimming with perfectly timed joy and gratitude. "Dorothy, it's true. I went to the clinic yesterday. The doctor said I'm almost two months along."

The wrinkles on my mother's face smoothed out. She patted Jade's hand, a genuine smile spreading across her features—one I hadn't seen in years. "Good! Good! Wonderful!"

She turned to me, her expression hardening, her voice carrying that familiar, unshakable authority. "Marcus, what are you thinking? Jade is carrying your child, and you dare talk about divorce? Let me tell you, this marriage is not ending. You will treat her well. If anything happens to her or the baby, I will never forgive you."

I watched my mother shield Jade, and something indescribable welled up inside me.

Anger. Helplessness. And a bone-deep despair.

Like watching a building collapse, and you're standing at the edge of the rubble with nothing in your hands—not even a single brick.

"Mom, Jade destroyed Serena. She can't stay in this house."

"Destroyed? Nonsense." My mother cut me off, her tone sharp and final, leaving no room for argument. "Serena's always been trouble, just like that dead mother of hers, Grace. Causing problems everywhere she goes. Jade did what she had to for this family! Right now, Jade's pregnancy is what matters most to the Sterling family. If you bring up divorce again, don't bother calling me your mother."

I stood there.

The lights were blindingly white.

I was powerless. I'd been blindsided, manipulated. I couldn't protect Serena. And now I couldn't even seek justice for her.

I stood frozen in the living room until Jade, escorted by my mother, went upstairs. Vivian slipped quietly back to her room. The hallway lights went out one by one, leaving me alone at the edge of the floor lamp's glow. Finally, I sank into the sofa.

Silence filled the entire room like a suffocating weight.

The child is innocent, after all.

The thought surfaced from somewhere deep, lodging in my throat like a thorn—impossible to swallow, impossible to spit out.

I buried my face in my hands, sitting in this brightly lit, immaculately decorated mansion, and for the first time, I fully understood: in this house, I couldn't save anyone.