Valeria's POV

The needle pierced my skin, sharp and unforgiving, but the pain felt distant-like it belonged to someone else. Claudia's hands worked quickly, her fingers steady despite the crimson smearing her gloves. Blood seeped through the makeshift cloth she'd wrapped around my hand, staining it darker with every pulse of my heart.

"You've lost a lot of blood," she muttered, not looking at me. Her voice was clinical, detached, like this was just another job.

Maybe it was. Maybe I was just another job now.

I didn't respond. The words wouldn't come even if I wanted them to. My throat felt raw, not from screaming-because I hadn't-but from holding back everything that was threatening to spill out.

Her eyes.

They haunted me. Wide, filled with something between disbelief and devastation. That look was sharper than the blade I'd stabbed through my own hand. I could still hear her scream echoing in my head, louder than the pounding of my own heartbeat.

Claudia pulled the thread taut, tying it off with practiced ease. She finally glanced up, her sharp eyes meeting mine.

"You should've let me handle it," she said quietly, her expression unreadable.

"I couldn't," I rasped, my voice barely recognizable. "It had to be me."

Her jaw tightened, but she didn't argue. She just wiped the blood from my skin, her touch surprisingly gentle.

"You should've told her," She said quietly. "She's going to hate you for this," Claudia murmured after a long silence.

I stared at the floor, the words sinking into me like knives. "That is what we need."

Emilia's POV

The sterile, fluorescent lights of the hospital made everything feel surreal, like I was trapped in some nightmare I couldn't wake up from. My hands were still stained with my father's blood, dried and dark around my nails. I couldn't bring myself to wash it off. Not yet.

I stood outside the ICU doors, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might shatter my ribs. The nurses kept telling me I couldn't go in, their voices polite but firm, like I was a child being scolded for something I didn't understand.

But I did understand. I'd seen it with my own eyes.

Valeria standing over my father, the knife in her hand, blood dripping onto the cold ground like it belonged there.

I pressed my palm against the glass, my breath fogging the surface. "Why won't they let me in?" I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

"They're doing what they can," Claire's voice came softly from behind me.

I turned to her, my chest tight, frustration bubbling to the surface. "What does that mean? He's my father-I should be in there!"

Claire stepped closer, her face unusually serious. "Emilia... they're stabilizing him. You need to give them time."

Time. I hated that word.

Time was what it took for Valeria to drive a knife into my father's chest. Time was what she'd stolen from me-with no explanation, no warning.

My phone buzzed in my pocket again, but I didn't check it.

I couldn't.

Because if it was from her, I didn't know what I'd do.

Claire's hand landed gently on my shoulder, grounding me. "Emilia," she whispered, "are you sure about what you saw?"

Her words felt like a slap. I stared at her, my voice rising. "I saw her, Claire. I saw her."

"She wouldn't-"

"She did!" My voice cracked, tears finally slipping down my cheeks, hot and bitter. "She promised she'd never betray me, and then she did."

Claire didn't argue. She just pulled me into a hug, holding me while my body shook with silent sobs.

But no matter how tightly she held me, it couldn't fill the emptiness Valeria had left behind.

Eventually, I pulled away, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeve of my shirt. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone, needing something-anything-to distract me from the gnawing hole inside my chest.

The screen lit up with a flood of notifications. My heart sank.

Breaking News: Attempted Assassination of Business Tycoon, Silas Hayes.

The Hayes Curse? Inside the String of Misfortunes Haunting the Family.

Connections to the Infamous Emilia Hayes Kidnapping?

My fingers scrolled mindlessly, article after article, each one worse than the last. They'd already pieced together fragments of my life, weaving a narrative filled with half-truths and wild speculation. There were photos of my father being wheeled into the hospital, his face pale, blood staining his shirt.

And then-there was her.

A grainy image caught from a distant security camera. Valeria's face partially obscured by a hood, but I'd know that posture anywhere. The way she moved, the tension in her shoulders.

My Valeria.

The headline beneath it screamed:

"Unknown Accomplice Linked to Hayes Family Attack - A New Threat?"

My chest tightened, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. I wanted to throw the phone across the room, to shatter it into pieces just to stop seeing her like that-as if she was nothing more than a shadow, a criminal hiding in plain sight.

Claire gently pried the phone from my hand, her brows furrowed with concern. "Emilia, stop. This isn't helping."

Before I could argue, the door to the waiting room swung open with a sharp creak. I turned, expecting a doctor with an update.

It wasn't.

It was Salvador.

His presence filled the sterile room like a thundercloud-dark suit impeccable, his face etched with worry that he tried to mask with cold indifference. But I could see it-the tightness in his jaw, the faint tremor in his hand as he adjusted his cufflinks.

"Emilia," he said, his voice steady but low, "you need to go home."

I blinked, my brain scrambling to process his words. "What?"

"It's not safe here," he continued, glancing around as if the walls had ears. "There's too much attention. The press, the security risks... You need to leave."

"I'm not leaving." My voice was sharper than I intended, the edges frayed with exhaustion and grief. "My father is in there, fighting for his life. I'm not going anywhere."

Salvador stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Emilia, listen to me. There are things happening you don't understand. Things-" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "-that could get you hurt if you're not careful."

I felt the fury rise in my chest like wildfire. "Oh, I don't understand? Do you know who tried to kill my father? Do you? Because I sure as hell do."

His eyes darkened slightly, but his expression remained controlled. "Go home, Emilia. Claire will take you. I'll keep you updated."

I wanted to scream, to demand answers, but something about his tone-the underlying tension in his words-made me pause. My heart hammered against my ribs, my instincts screaming that there was more beneath the surface.

What do you know, Salvador?

But I didn't ask.

Not yet.

Instead, I nodded stiffly, my body moving on autopilot. Claire gently took my arm, guiding me out of the hospital, her hand steady even though mine was shaking.

As we stepped into the cool night air, the flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras burned into my vision. Their questions blurred into background noise, irrelevant compared to the storm raging inside me.

I didn't know what hurt more-the fear for my father's life or the ache of Valeria's absence.

But deep down, a seed of doubt had taken root.

What if I never really knew her at all?

Valeria's POV

The room felt colder than usual, the thin curtains doing little to block out the early morning light seeping through the cracked blinds. The television flickered, its harsh glow casting shadows against the peeling wallpaper. Claudia sat slouched on the battered couch, a cigarette dangling between her fingers, the smoke curling like ghosts in the stale air.

The news anchor's voice was a dull drone, but the words cut through the haze in my mind like knives.

"Breaking news: An attempted assassination on Silas Hayes, influential businessman and father of renowned photographer Emilia Hayes, has shocked the city. Sources tie this incident to the earlier kidnapping of Emilia Hayes, raising suspicions of a deeper conspiracy within the Hayes family."

I didn't respond. My hand throbbed where the fresh stitches pulled at my skin. The pain was grounding, a reminder of what I'd done-and what I hadn't. My mind wasn't on the news. It was on Emilia. On the look in her eyes when she saw me.

Betrayal.

My phone buzzed against the chipped wooden table, the vibration rattling louder than it should've. I snatched it up, my pulse quickening. A message from Juan.

"Dominic needs to see you. Today."

No time to process. No time to breathe.

Claudia leaned over, reading the message over my shoulder. She exhaled a long stream of smoke, her expression unreadable. "Well," she said quietly, "there's no going back from here."

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen like it could change what was written if I held it long enough. But the words stayed the same-like everything else in my life lately.

Claudia stood, stretching as if we were preparing for something as simple as a grocery run. "You ready?"

I wasn't. But I nodded anyway.

Because what choice did I have?

----

The drive was silent, the city blurring past as Claudia navigated the streets with practiced ease. My fingers traced the stitched line on my palm, the sting of the wound a small comfort against the chaos in my chest.

Claudia finally broke the silence, her voice low. "You know he's not just going to ask for details, right? Dominic doesn't summon people for debriefings. This is a loyalty test."

I knew. I didn't need her to say it out loud.

But hearing it made it real.

"I've been tested my whole life," I muttered, my voice colder than I felt. "What's one more?"

She shot me a look, her usual sarcasm absent for once. "This isn't like before, Val. This isn't street fights or settling debts. This is Dominic. You either walk out of this alive-or you don't walk out at all."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

The warehouse was buried deep in the industrial district, a forgotten skeleton of rusted metal and cracked concrete. The kind of place where echoes outlived people. I stepped out of the car, the cold night air biting into my skin, though it wasn't the weather making me shiver. Claudia walked beside me, her face a mask of indifference, but I could feel the tension radiating off her like static. She didn't have to say it-this was the moment everything could fall apart.

Inside, the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows that seemed to dance with every step I took. Juan was already there, leaning against a rusted support beam, arms crossed, a smug grin carved into his face like it belonged there permanently. He didn't say anything, just gave me a look that said, Let's see how long you last.

Dominic emerged from the darkness as if he'd been part of it all along. His presence filled the space, not with size but with the kind of authority that didn't need to shout. He was smaller than I'd imagined, but the weight he carried made him seem larger than life-or death.

"Valeria," Dominic said, his voice smooth, almost pleasant. But there was nothing warm about it.

"Dominic," I replied, my voice steady, controlled. I couldn't afford anything less.

He circled me slowly, like a vulture sizing up its next meal, hands clasped behind his back, his eyes sharp and calculating. Every step echoed, each one louder than the last, like a ticking clock counting down to something I didn't want to face.

"I've heard you handled the Hayes situation effectively," he began, his tone casual, but his words sharp enough to draw blood.

"It was necessary," I replied, my face blank, my heart pounding against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

Dominic stopped, standing directly in front of me, his eyes locking onto mine with a force that felt like it could unravel me from the inside out.

"Necessary," he repeated softly, as if tasting the word. "Funny how loyalty always comes down to necessity."

I didn't respond. I couldn't give him more than what was required. Silence was safer.

He took a step closer, his face inches from mine. "Tell me, Valeria, was it difficult?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded.

"No," I lied, my voice flat, cold.

His smile was small, sharp. "Good."

He turned away, walking over to a battered metal table covered in papers and half-empty glasses of cheap whiskey. He poured himself a drink, the liquid catching the flickering light like diluted blood. He sipped, then set the glass down with a soft clink.

"Loyalty is a rare commodity," he said, his back still to me. "I needed to know where yours lies."

I stayed silent. Let him fill the space with his own words.

Dominic finally turned back around, his expression lighter, but his eyes were knives. "You've passed."

Claudia exhaled quietly beside me, a breath she'd been holding since we walked in. But I didn't relax. Not even a little.

"You've earned my trust," Dominic continued, stepping closer again, his voice almost gentle. "Don't make me regret it."

"I won't," I replied, the lie burning on my tongue.

Claudia's hand brushed my arm-a subtle signal. It was time to go. We turned, making our way toward the door, the tension loosening just enough for my muscles to ache from the strain.

But then Dominic's voice cut through the air like a blade. "Valeria."

I stopped, my hand hovering over the door handle.

"If I find out you're hiding anything from me..." His smile was razor-sharp, all teeth and no warmth. "There won't be a second chance."

I didn't turn around. Didn't nod. Just walked out, leaving the words-and whatever part of me still believed in survival-behind in that warehouse.

The cold night air hit me like a slap the moment we stepped out of the warehouse. The faint hum of the city buzzed in the distance, but here, in the middle of this forgotten industrial graveyard, it was eerily silent. My heart was still racing, but I kept my face blank, every step measured as if Dominic's eyes were still on me.

Claudia lit a cigarette the second we were outside, her hands steady despite the tension that had just unfolded inside. She took a long drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke before glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

"Well," she muttered, flicking ash onto the cracked pavement, "that could've gone worse."

I didn't respond. My mind was still tangled in Dominic's words, his thinly veiled threat echoing like footsteps in an empty hall. There won't be a second chance.

Claudia stopped by the car, leaning against the door, her cigarette dangling from her fingers. She studied me for a beat, her sharp gaze cutting through the fragile calm I was barely holding onto.

"You should go lay low for a while," she finally said, her tone casual but laced with an edge of caution.

My jaw tightened. "I'm going home."

She shook her head slowly, exhaling another stream of smoke. "No, you're not."

I turned to face her fully, my fists clenching at my sides. "I'm not hiding."

"This isn't about hiding," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "It's about being smart. You think Dominic's done watching you? You show up at Emilia's now, and you might as well put a bullet in both your heads."

The words hit harder than I expected, the sharpness of them cutting through the fog in my mind. I knew she was right, but the thought of not seeing Emilia-of not knowing if she was okay-felt like suffocating.

Claudia took a step closer, lowering her voice. "I'm meeting Salvador. We need to figure out our next move."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and tight. "I need to see her."

"No, you need to stay alive," she shot back, her eyes dark and unyielding. "And so does she. Don't be stupid."

I looked away, staring out at the dark, empty street, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a vice. The image of Emilia's face flashed in my mind-her smile, her touch, the warmth I'd been chasing without even realizing it.

Claudia's voice softened slightly. "Just for a little while. Let things cool down. We can't afford mistakes right now."

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

After a long, tense silence, Claudia flicked her cigarette to the ground, grinding it under her boot. "I'll call you after I meet with Salvador."

She turned to leave, but her words lingered, heavy in the night air.

I stood there long after she was gone, staring at nothing, feeling everything.

And for the first time in a long time, I was terrified-not of dying, but of losing the one thing that made me feel alive.

Emilia's POV

The house was suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that made every breath feel too loud. I'd been pacing for hours, my phone clenched in my hand, staring at the screen like Valeria's name might magically appear. But it didn't. The memory of her face, the coldness in her eyes when she... no, I couldn't even finish the thought without my chest tightening.

I heard the front door creak. My body tensed.

Someone was here.

I grabbed the closest thing within reach-a heavy glass paperweight-and crept toward the hall. My heart raced, blood pounding in my ears as footsteps echoed closer.

Then I saw her.

Claudia.

The woman who stood beside Valeria that night. The woman who watched as my father collapsed, his blood staining the ground.

Rage snapped inside me like a rubber band stretched too far.

I didn't hesitate.

I launched myself at her, swinging the paperweight with everything I had. But Claudia moved effortlessly, dodging the attack like it was nothing more than a lazy swipe. She grinned, infuriatingly calm, as if my fury was an amusement to her.

"Fiesty girl," she said with a smirk, sidestepping another wild swing. "No wonder Valeria likes you."

That stopped me. Just for a second. But it was enough.

Before I could react, she had me pinned against the wall, one arm across my chest, her other hand gripping a knife that gleamed under the hallway light.

"Get off me!" I snarled, struggling, trying to break free.

The front door burst open.

Claire.

She froze when she saw the scene, but before she could say anything, Claudia was faster. In a blink, she spun, her arm snaking around Claire's neck, the knife now pressed dangerously against her skin.

Claire's eyes went wide for a split second before she exhaled dramatically, rolling her eyes.

"Well, isn't this cozy," Claire muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, if you wanted to cuddle, you could've just asked."

Despite the knife at her throat, she was still... Claire.

I froze. My breath came in short, sharp bursts.

"What do you want?" I snapped, my voice trembling with rage and fear. "Haven't you done enough?"

Claudia's smile faded, her grip still firm on Claire. "I want you to sit. And listen."

She pointed the knife at the couch, motioning for both of us to sit. Claire gave me a look that screamed I've got this-even though she very much did not-and we sat down.

Claudia finally lowered the knife, stepping back just enough to give us space, though her eyes never left mine.

"Your father's fine," she said, her voice flat, as if it was supposed to make everything okay.

I scoffed, my laugh hollow. "Right. That's why I watched him bleed out in front of me."

Claudia tilted her head slightly. "Valeria never touched him."

I blinked, her words not registering at first. "What?"

She crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "The blood you saw wasn't his."

My chest tightened. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Claudia leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharp. "She stabbed herself. Her own hand. To make it look real."

The room tilted. My breath caught in my throat.

No.

"That's not-" I started, but my voice broke.

Claudia's eyes darkened, her words quick and cold. "The ambulance that showed up? It was too quick, right? Even if Claire didn't call, an ambulance would have showed up anyway, it was waiting around the corner. Salvador sent them. He knew everything."

My mind spun, images flashing like broken film-the way Valeria's eyes had locked with mine that night, the blood, the black SUV fleeing the scene.

"I don't understand," I whispered, my voice small.

Claudia's jaw tightened. "Dominic ordered the hit. On your father. It was a test. Valeria had no choice."

My hands trembled. "So the blood on him-"

"Was Valeria's," Claudia finished. "The SUV? Dominic's men. They were there to confirm she did the job."

I felt like the floor had been ripped out from under me.

Everything I thought I knew-every ounce of anger, of betrayal-was a lie.

She didn't betray me.

She saved him.

At the cost of herself.

I felt tears sting my eyes, but I swallowed them down. My heart ached in a way it never had before-not from betrayal, but from the crushing weight of regret.

Claire finally broke the silence, her voice soft. "She did all that... for you."

I couldn't speak. Because deep down, I already knew it was true.

My heart raced, each beat pounding in my ears like a war drum. I couldn't process everything Claudia had just dumped on me. My father-alive but hidden. Valeria-somewhere under Dominic's thumb, walking a tightrope with death waiting below.

"Where is Valeria?" I finally forced out, my voice raw, barely more than a whisper.

Claudia leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed casually, like we weren't talking about life and death. "Under Dominic's watch now. He's keeping her close."

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My knees wobbled, and I gripped the edge of the table to keep from collapsing.

Claudia's eyes sharpened. "I came here to make sure you stay away. If you don't, Valeria's the one who'll pay the price."

My jaw clenched. "Why didn't you tell me the plan? I could've helped-I-"

Claudia cut me off with a dismissive wave. "We needed your reaction to be real. Dominic's not stupid. He'd sniff out an act in a heartbeat."

I shook my head, my stomach churning. "My father wasn't responding. I thought-" My voice broke. "I thought he was dead."

"Of course you did," Claudia replied flatly. "Valeria injected him with something to mimic unconsciousness. Temporary paralysis. He was awake and talking the moment he got to the hospital. Salvador's men handled the rest-fed the media the story to make sure Dominic bought it."

The room tilted for a second, and I had to sit down, my head spinning.

"Your father has to stay in the hospital," Claudia continued, her voice as cold as her stare. "Protected. We'll say he's in a coma. Dominic's people need to believe Valeria did the job."

Claire, who'd been standing silently until now, finally piped up, her voice breaking through the tension like a poorly timed joke. "Wow. This is like a telenovela on steroids."

I shot her a glare, but it fizzled before it reached her. I didn't have the energy to be mad.

I turned back to Claudia. "How's Valeria?"

Claudia's face remained unreadable. "She's fine. Don't worry about her. Just do your part. Stay out of it. Don't make things worse."

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. "That's all I get? 'Stay out of it'? She's risking her life, and I'm just supposed to sit here?"

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do," Claudia snapped. "You think running into the middle of this is going to save her? You'll only get her killed faster."

The words hit their mark, but I wasn't done. "What about her hand?"

Claudia's lips twitched into a smirk. "Oh, that? I stitched it up all nice and neat. Even added a little ribbon."

I surged to my feet, anger flooding through me. "You think this is funny?"

Her smirk faded. She leaned in slightly, her voice low and sharp. "No. But if I don't joke about it, it feels real. And I can't afford for it to feel real."

The words settled over me like ice.

Claudia pushed off the wall, heading toward the door. "Stay put, Emilia. For Valeria's sake."

Just as she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder. "She'd hate me for saying this, but-she's more afraid of losing you than she is of dying."

The door slammed shut behind Claudia, leaving an echo that vibrated through my chest like an aftershock. The walls felt too tight, the air too thin. I stood there, fists clenched, my heart thundering like it was trying to punch its way out.

Valeria.

Her name was a curse and a prayer on my lips.

I could still see her face in my mind-hood shadowing her eyes, the blade flashing, my father's blood soaking through his shirt. The image carved itself into the inside of my skull like it wanted to stay there forever.

"She stabbed her own hand." Claudia's words rattled in my head.

But that wasn't what I saw.

I saw my father collapsing. I saw her running. I saw her leaving me behind.

Claire cleared her throat, her presence like static in the background. "You okay?"

I snapped my head toward her, my glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Do I look okay?"

She raised her hands in mock surrender, but her eyes didn't carry their usual lazy amusement. "Okay, dumb question. Noted."

I turned away, pacing, feeling like a grenade with the pin pulled. My heart was the ticking. My rage, the explosion waiting to happen.

"She told me to trust her," I muttered, more to myself than to Claire. "She promised she'd never betray me."

Claire leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, like we weren't standing in the aftermath of my world crumbling. "And she didn't."

I spun on her, the words tearing out like shrapnel. "I saw her, Claire! I saw her with the knife. I saw my father-" My voice cracked, betraying the tears burning the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away furiously.

Claire stayed annoyingly calm, tilting her head. "You saw what she needed you to see."

That stopped me cold.

"She knew you'd be there, Emilia," Claire continued. "She knew you'd be watching. And she needed it to be real. For Dominic's men. For you."

The ache in my chest flared, raw and ugly. "So what? That makes it okay?"

Claire sighed, pushing off the doorframe to stand in front of me. "No. It doesn't make it okay. But it makes it necessary. She's out there, probably bleeding, definitely terrified, all to protect you."

I let out a shaky breath, sinking onto the edge of the couch like my legs couldn't hold me anymore. "I hate her for this."

Claire plopped down beside me, her knee bumping mine. "No, you don't."

"I do."

She snorted. "Sure. And I hate sex."

Despite myself, I almost laughed. Almost.

Claire grew serious, her voice softer. "You're mad because she didn't let you in. Because she thought she was protecting you when all she did was make you feel like you don't matter."

The words hit harder than I wanted to admit.

I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to wipe away the frustration, the fear, the ache. "What if she doesn't come back?"

Claire shrugged. "Then I'll kill her myself. I need to know how good your sex will be."

A laugh slipped out, sharp and wet. Claire grinned, proud of herself.

"There it is," she said. "Knew you had a sense of humor buried under all that rage."

I shook my head, staring at the floor. "I just want her to come home."

"She will."

"How do you know?"

Claire tapped her temple. "Because she's not dumb enough to die before making things right with you."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "She's always trying to fix everything on her own."

"Well," Claire said, leaning back, "maybe it's time you fix her."

I frowned. "What?"

"You've got a role to play in this." she said, smirking. "You think Valeria's the only one who can sell a story? You're the daughter of a man who just 'barely survived an assassination attempt.' You're also the girl who was kidnapped, whose life has been a media circus."

I stared at her, my heart racing for a different reason now. "What are you saying?"

Claire's grin grew. "I'm saying maybe it's time you stop waiting for Valeria to save you and start saving her."

The thought settled into my chest like a spark catching flame.

Maybe I couldn't hold a gun.

Maybe I didn't know how to play the dangerous games Valeria did.

But I could play my part.

And I would.

For her.

Valeria's POV

The glow from the small TV screen was the only light in the room, casting long shadows against the cracked walls. I sat on the edge of an old wooden chair, my stitched hand throbbing like a heartbeat outside of my chest. Claudia was somewhere in the background, probably pretending not to watch me as I gripped the remote so tight I thought it might snap in half.

"Breaking news."

The headline crawled across the bottom of the screen: Daughter of Prominent Businessman Breaks Silence on Attempted Assassination.

My chest tightened.

And then there she was-Emilia.

She stood in front of a sea of microphones, cameras flashing, her face pale but composed. Her hair was slightly messy like she hadn't slept, her jaw clenched, and her eyes... God, her eyes were hollow, dark rings shadowing the warmth I knew so well.

My breath hitched as she started speaking, her voice steady but cold. Distant.

"The assassination attempt on my father was brutal and calculated. My family has been through unspeakable trauma in the past few weeks, and now this..." She paused, swallowing hard, blinking away tears she refused to let fall. "My father is in critical condition and likely won't survive."

Her words landed like punches, each one heavier than the last.

"I will never forgive whoever did this."

I couldn't breathe.

The remote slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor. But the sound felt distant, muffled by the roaring in my ears. My pulse was thunder, my thoughts racing, spiraling.

She hates me.

After everything... she hates me.

I thought-God, I thought-she'd understand, even if she didn't know the full story. I thought there'd be some part of her that knew me, that could feel the truth even through the lies. But no. There was nothing in her voice but venom, grief, and betrayal.

Claudia's footsteps creaked against the floor as she walked into the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. She didn't say anything at first, just crossed her arms, studying me like I was some broken thing on display.

"Turn it off," I rasped, my voice hoarse, foreign even to my own ears.

She didn't move.

"I said-turn it off!" I snapped, shoving the TV with my good hand. It toppled over, crashing onto the floor with a sharp crack, the screen shattering into spiderwebs of glass.

Silence.

Except for my ragged breathing, the pounding of my heart, and the echo of Emilia's words still ringing in my head.

Claudia finally spoke, her tone frustratingly calm. "You done?"

I stood there, breathing heavily, the shattered TV screen at my feet reflecting broken pieces of my face-fractured, just like everything else.

Claudia didn't flinch at my outburst. She never did. Instead, she sighed like I was the one being unreasonable, like I was the problem here.

Then she dropped the bomb.

"I went to see her."

The words hit me harder than Emilia's statement.

I froze, my heart stuttering mid-beat. "What?"

Claudia crossed her arms, leaning against the chipped doorway like it was nothing. Like she hadn't just torn the ground out from under me.

"I went to see Emilia," she repeated, her tone maddeningly casual. "Yesterday."

My fists clenched so tightly I felt my nails bite into my palm, right into the tender skin where the stitches were. The pain grounded me, but it did nothing to stop the surge of rage boiling inside.

"You-what the fuck, Claudia?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my fury. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" I took a step forward, my voice a low snarl. "You saw her, and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't need to tell you," she shot back. "I needed to handle it."

I was shaking now, not from fear-but from something sharp, something raw. "Handle it? She's not a goddamn job, Claudia!"

Her jaw tensed, but she didn't back down. "She was spiraling. Just like you're doing now. I needed to make sure she didn't do anything stupid."

I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "Oh, so you get to be the one she listens to now?"

Claudia's eyes narrowed. "This isn't about me."

"Isn't it?" I snapped. "Because you've always thought you knew better, right? Always the one with the plan, pulling the strings."

She stepped closer, her face inches from mine now. "You think I wanted to be the one to tell her? You think I enjoyed watching her nearly lose her mind over you?"

That made me flinch.

She didn't stop. "She attacked me, Valeria. You should've seen her. Fury, grief-pure fucking heartbreak."

My breath hitched.

"She thought you killed her father," Claudia continued, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. "She was ready to put a knife in me because she believed you'd betrayed her."

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening until it hurt. "And you let her believe it."

Claudia's eyes softened for the first time. "I didn't."

The tension cracked, just slightly.

"She knows the truth now," Claudia said quietly. "She knows you didn't hurt him. I told her everything."

I stumbled back a step, the words hitting harder than any punch. "She knows?"

"Yes."

I sank onto the edge of the table, my head in my hands. Relief crashed over me like a wave-and with it, something else. Anger.

"Then why-why the fuck did she say all that on TV?"

Claudia crouched down in front of me, resting her arms on her knees. "Because she's playing the part. Just like you are."

I shook my head. "It felt real."

"She's scared," Claudia admitted softly. "But not of you."

I looked up, my eyes burning. "Then what?"

"She's scared of losing you. Just like you're scared of losing her."

I didn't respond.

I couldn't.

Because she was right.

Claudia stood up, dusting her hands off like we'd just finished some casual chat over coffee. "So, here's what you're going to do," she said. "You're going to keep your head down. You're going to stick to the plan. And when this is over, you'll have your chance to make it right."

I stared at the broken screen again, Emilia's face still burned into my memory.

"If this is over," I whispered.

Claudia didn't argue.

Because we both knew-there were no guarantees.