Five Years of His Lies

The sharp clang of metal woke me. My head throbbed. I sat bolt upright in bed, disoriented.

Heaven was in my home office, sifting through my blueprints. My private space. My designs.

She held up a rolled parchment, a blueprint for a community center, the one that meant everything to me. "I'm having trouble with the structural integrity here," she said, without a trace of shame. "You're the expert. Help me fix it."

I stared at her, my throat tight with disgust. "No," I managed, my voice hoarse. "I won't."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't be difficult, Clara. Franklyn said you'd be cooperative."

"Franklyn said a lot of things," I retorted, pushing myself out of bed. My head still swam.

"Look, I know this is hard for you," she continued, her voice falsely gentle. "But this project is my big break. I need it."

She took a step closer, gesturing with the blueprint. In her carelessness, the corner of the heavy parchment scraped sharply across my arm. A thin line of blood welled up.

"Oh, my God! You clumsy fool!" Heaven shrieked, clutching her hand as if I had attacked her. "You tried to hurt me!"

Just then, Franklyn strode into the room, his eyes instantly falling on Heaven's feigned distress. "What happened here?" His voice was cold.

Heaven burst into theatrical tears. "She... she attacked me, Franklyn! She doesn't want me to succeed!"

He didn't even look at my bleeding arm. His gaze was fixed on Heaven, then flickered to me with pure contempt. "Clara, what have you done?"

"She scratched me," I said, holding out my arm, a futile gesture. "She did it to herself."

Franklyn's expression softened for a fleeting second as his eyes landed on the blood. But it vanished as quickly as it came. "Don't play the victim, Clara," he snarled. "You're better than this cheap trick."

"Apologize to Heaven," he commanded, his voice steel. "And then you will help her with this project. You will teach her everything she needs to know."

My jaw dropped. "Apologize? For what? And you want me to… hand over my life's work to her?"

"Your family's business," Franklyn said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "still relies heavily on my investments, Clara. Don't forget that."

My breath caught in my throat. My family. My loyalty to them was my greatest vulnerability. He knew it.

I swallowed hard, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. "Fine," I choked out. "I'll help her."

I watched, numb, as Heaven gathered my blueprints, asking questions I mechanically answered. Each word felt like a betrayal of my own soul.

When she finally left, a triumphant smile on her face, I sank to the floor. The tears came then, hot and stinging.

Franklyn reappeared at the doorway. He watched me, his gaze unreadable. "Crying again?" he asked, a strange note in his voice.

I quickly wiped my eyes, forcing a composure I didn't feel. "Just tired," I mumbled. "And my arm stings."

He seemed to relax, a subtle shift in his shoulders. "Good. Because tomorrow, you'll be on my arm. At Heaven's launch event."

He turned and left. I let the tears fall freely then. Not for him to see. Never for him to see again.