The Savior He Worshipped Wrong

The next day, I didn't wait in the manor for Vincenzo's "visit."

I printed the divorce papers and contacted the mysterious organization known only as "Elysian." The rumor was they could make anyone disappear from the world, without a trace.

After scheduling the "service" for that afternoon, I drove to the private hospital.

The moment I pushed open the door to her room, it felt like I'd stumbled into a victory party.

Lola was lounging against the headboard like a queen, accepting congratulations from family Capos and associates. She held the baby, a triumphant smirk on her face as she opened her mouth for a spoonful of soup from Vincenzo.

What a perfect little family.

The air in the room froze when they saw me. Vincenzo's hand trembled, spilling soup on the pristine sheets. Panic flashed in his eyes as he put the bowl down and strode toward me.

"Lexi, what are you doing here?" he whispered, trying to block my view. "You're not well. You shouldn't be in a place like this, full of germs."

"Lola's husband is stuck in Europe. She grew up with us, she's like a sister to me… you know that. I'm just helping out."

"I know you haven't forgiven your parents, but Lola and the baby are innocent!"

His excuses were pathetic and frantic, each word a desperate lie.

I stared at him, my hand tightening on the divorce papers in my bag, ready to throw them in his face.

But Lola moved first. With a theatrical gasp, as if she'd seen a ghost, she rolled off the bed, clutching the baby, and crawled toward me on her knees.

"Sister! Sister, I'm begging you!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face. "I know Mom and Dad and I wronged you! I know you hate me for stealing their love, but please, I'm begging you, don't hurt my child!"

"Direct your hatred at me! My baby is so small, he can't endure your malice!"

She held up her phone for everyone to see.

On the screen was a chat history between us. It was filled with vicious, threatening messages and even photoshopped images of dead infants. The timestamps spanned her entire pregnancy.

Ice flooded my veins. I’d cut ties with her three years ago. Deleted her number. I hadn't sent a single message.

"You malicious woman!"

Before I could defend myself, a sharp slap cracked across my face.

My father, the man who gave me life but never an ounce of warmth, glared at me, his eyes blazing with fury. My mother stood beside him, her expression one of pure disgust, as if I were something vile she'd stepped in.

"How did we raise a monster like you!" my father roared.

The whispers from the associates and elders grew louder:

"I knew it. A woman that broken is bound to be twisted."

"Poor Vincenzo, stuck with a barren, venomous wife who wants to harm the family's only hope."

"She won't even spare a newborn. A woman like that belongs in hell."

My cheek burned, my ears ringing. I instinctively looked to Vincenzo.

For three years, no matter the gossip, he had always been the one to shield me, to silence the whispers, sometimes permanently.

But not this time.

He gripped my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin so hard I thought the bones would snap.

"Lexi! You've disappointed me more than I can say," he growled, his eyes filled with anguish. "It's one thing to throw tantrums at home, but this? How could you do something so despicable?"

"Will you only be happy once you've destroyed everyone?"

"Apologize to Lola. Now. Stop making innocent people suffer for your jealousy."

I looked at this man and felt as if I were seeing a stranger.

It turned out that when it came to a choice between Lola and me, his so-called "devotion" was paper-thin. He condemned me without a single question, without a shred of proof.

I forced my head high, blinking back the burning tears. My voice trembled but came out unnervingly clear.

"Why should I apologize for something I didn't do?"

"You say she's innocent? Let me ask you, Vincenzo, is she? Are you?"