The Game of Masks and True Identity

Phoebe's POV

I was trimming a potted plant when I flatly answered, “No need.”

“This is just getting good, Cade,” I muttered.

Ever since he took everything from Renzo three years ago, I intended to make him pay back piece by piece.

“As for this child, remove it,” I said to Elmer.

Before they pushed me into the operating room, Elmer hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Miss, are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy? If Cade finds out the child’s gone, he might fly into a rage and do something extreme.”

I only smiled, colder than before. “Are you afraid of him? Elmer, with our family’s power, even ten Cades aren’t worth mentioning.”

As I spoke, I let my gaze linger on Renzo’s photo with a strange tenderness. “If it weren’t for him looking like Renzo, he wouldn’t have lived this long.”

As such, Elmer fell silent and arranged for me to be taken into surgery.

When I opened my eyes again, a miserable bellow tore through the air. “Phoebe, how dare you!” Cade’s voice was raw with fury. “How could you terminate the baby without my permission?!”

The abortion left my body lighter, though my face was still pale and exhausted. I managed a small, haggard smile. “What, you’re not going to go look after your foster sister? Looks like her fall wasn’t that serious. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have time to shout at me.”

Cade went mad. He thought I was powerless here, nothing more than a lamb bound for slaughter.

“Phoebe, why are they listening to you? What are you, really?” he demanded, eyes hard on me.

I turned my ring on my finger and said, “You’ll know in time.”

He stared at the ring, his face turning grim. “Is that the ring Renzo was going to propose with?”

“Not exactly, yet yes.”

Renzo had prepared a proposal ring for me, but he died before I could wear it. So, I’d had an identical one made so it looked like I’d accepted his proposal.

“You actually have a grudge against Margaret? If you hate me, take it out on me. She’s only my sister. She won’t stop me from marrying you.” He tried to reason, voice strained. “Besides, you said you were going to marry him, didn’t you? Renzo and I look exactly the same. Marrying me is like marrying my brother.”

I stroked his face with a near-greedy touch. “Yes, exactly the same. If it weren’t for your hoarse voice, I might almost mistake you for him.”

But I knew Renzo wouldn’t have treated me like this. He was clean and pure, not the kind to become a crime boss, not the kind to keep a sheltered girl as a pet, not the kind to sneak from my room into Margaret’s to satisfy himself, not the kind to have one eye stabbed out by me.

“Cade.” I sneered and grabbed a nearby bottle, smashing it down on his head. The glass shattered across his skull.

My voice was soft but sharp as it rang out, “Cade, I got close to you to have you pay for it.”

He staggered, nearly split open by the blow, but he stayed on his feet.

The private doctors gasped and rushed forward to steady him.

“Phoebe!” Blood trickled from the corner of his eye. “Tell me, why did you come to me, only to refuse to bear my child? What do you actually want?”

My gaze cooled until it was ice.