The Star He Left Bleeding

Aliza POV:

"Run away?" Sophia repeated, her voice a mix of shock and concern. "Aliza, your parents will come after you. They'll ruin your career."

I shrugged, the weight of their judgment no longer bothering me. "Let them. My career is just a means to an end now. A platform to make them pay." My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "They want to control me? They want to erase me? Fine. But they won't break me. Not anymore."

Sophia and Chloe exchanged another look, their concern deepening. They knew the depth of my family's cruelty, though they couldn't truly comprehend the suffocating grip of Kaylee's manipulation. They saw the pain in my eyes, even behind the mask of defiance. They chose silence, offering a comforting hand instead.

"What about Etienne?" Chloe asked softly, her gaze searching mine. "After all this... do you still...?"

I cut her off, my voice sharp, leaving no room for doubt. "Etienne McCarthy is a ghost. A delusion. He chose his side. He chose Kaylee. He means nothing to me now." The words were a lie, a painful, self-inflicted wound, but I needed to believe them. I needed to harden myself.

"That cold-hearted jerk!" Sophia fumed, her voice rising. "How could he do that to you? After everything? He doesn't deserve you, Aliza. He never did."

Just then, a hush fell over the restaurant. My friends' eyes, wide with disbelief, fixed on something behind me. A cold dread seeped into my stomach. I didn't need to turn around. I knew.

Etienne McCarthy stood there, an arm wrapped possessively around Kaylee's waist. She was laughing, her head thrown back, her hair a golden halo in the soft light. He was looking at her, a gentle smile on his lips, a warmth in his eyes that had never been directed at me. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled, pressing closer to him. They were a picture of domestic bliss, of perfect love. The kind of love I had always craved, the kind he had cruelly denied me.

Sophia gasped. Chloe squeezed my hand, her eyes flashing with anger. "The nerve! After what he just did to you, showing up here like this!"

My heart constricted, a familiar ache spreading through my chest. It was a fresh wound, but it didn't pierce as deeply as before. The numbness was setting in. I felt a strange detachment, as if I was watching a scene unfold in a movie, not living it.

"Don't," I said, my voice barely a whisper, as Sophia started to rise. "It's not worth it. They're not worth it." I forced myself to take a deep breath, to steady my trembling hands. "Let's go. I've had enough of this show."

I stood, my back straight, my head held high. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. I walked towards the exit, my friends trailing behind me, their angry whispers like a distant hum.

Just as I reached the door, a waiter, rushing past, accidentally bumped into my injured arm. The fresh stitches tore, a sharp, searing pain erupting through me. I gasped, stumbling, my face paling. My old shoulder injury, still aching from years of demanding stunts, flared up in protest, making me clumsy. I couldn't fully brace myself.

My hand flew to my arm, crimson blossoming on my pristine white dress. The pain was blinding, a sharp, white-hot agony that made my vision swim.

"Oh my God, Aliza!" Chloe cried, rushing to my side.

Kaylee, seeing the commotion, rushed over, her face a mask of feigned concern. "Oh, Aliza! Are you alright? You're so clumsy! Let me help you." She reached for me, her touch surprisingly rough, as if she intended to push me again.

"Get away from her, you snake!" Sophia roared, pulling me away from Kaylee, her eyes spitting fire. "You caused this, didn't you? You're always causing trouble for Aliza!"

Kaylee recoiled, her eyes wide and innocent. She turned to Etienne, her lower lip trembling. "Etienne, they're always so mean to me! I was just trying to help!"

Etienne, who had been observing the scene with a detached expression, stepped forward. His eyes, usually so cold, now had a flicker of something, a barely perceptible tightening around the edges. But his gaze was fixed on Kaylee, not me. He put an arm around her, drawing her close. "Kaylee, are you alright?" he murmured, stroking her hair. He didn't even glance at my bleeding arm.

"It's nothing, Etienne," Kaylee sniffled, burrowing into his chest. "Just Aliza being dramatic again. She's always trying to make a scene."

Etienne then turned to me, his gaze sweeping over my torn dress, my bleeding arm. A brief, almost imperceptible frown creased his brow. He didn't offer help, didn't approach. Instead, he reached into his wallet, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and pressed it into Sophia's hand. "Here. For her medical bills. And a new dress." His voice was flat, dismissive. "Keep her away from Kaylee."

The words were like a slap across the face. Money. He thought he could buy off my pain, my humiliation. My eyes burned, but I swallowed the tears, hardening my resolve.

"Keep it," I snarled, pushing Sophia's hand away, the pain in my arm forgotten in the face of his utter contempt. "I don't need your charity, Dr. McCarthy."

He raised an eyebrow, a cold, mocking smile touching his lips. "Oh? I thought actresses were always looking for a handout. Or is it just a larger sum you're after? Perhaps I underestimated your price." He pulled out his checkbook, scribbling a figure, then tore it out and offered it to me. "Fifty thousand. Is that enough to satisfy your... dramatic tendencies?"

His words were poison, dripping with disdain. My face flushed with a mixture of shame and fury. He thought I was selling my pain, my dignity. He thought I was just another greedy actress, trying to capitalize on a moment of weakness. The cut on my arm throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the laceration he had just inflicted on my soul.

My voice was barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears. "You think... you think I'm worth so little?"

"I think you're making a scene, Aliza," he said, his eyes hard. "Take the money and leave. Before you cause any more damage."

A red mist descended. My vision narrowed. The pain, the humiliation, the years of quiet suffering at the hands of my family, all converged into a single, burning point of rage. "Damage?" My voice was raw, trembling with barely suppressed fury. "You want to talk about damage, Dr. McCarthy? How about we talk about yours? Or rather, Kaylee's." I pointed at my arm, at the blood staining my dress. "This? This is nothing. But what if I asked for an eye for an eye? What if I demanded to inflict the same wound on Kaylee that you so readily dismissed on me?"

Etienne's eyes, previously cold, now flashed with a dangerous fire. He moved swiftly, stepping fully in front of Kaylee, shielding her completely. His voice was a low growl. "Don't even think about it, Aliza. I won't let you hurt her."

My heart, already a shattered mess, splintered further. He would protect her, even from a hypothetical threat. Even when I was bleeding, right in front of him. He would always choose her. Always.

The last flicker of hope, of longing, died a cold, swift death. My love for him, once an all-consuming fire, turned to dust, to ash. I reached out, snatched the check from his hand, my fingers brushing against his. He flinched, as if my touch was repulsive.

"Fine," I said, my voice devoid of all emotion, a hollow echo in the suddenly silent restaurant. "A hundred thousand. Fine. Consider it my fee for being part of your little show. And your sister's." I crumpled the check in my hand. "But this is the last time, Dr. McCarthy. The very last time you will ever see me."

I turned, my head held high, ignoring the throbbing pain, the burning tears. Ignoring him. My friends, their faces pale with shock and anger, rushed to my side.

"Aliza, don't listen to him! He's a monster!" Sophia cried, her voice choked with emotion.

"It's alright," I said, a faint, sad smile touching my lips. "It's all over now." I could feel their eyes on my back, his and hers. But I didn't turn back. I couldn't. The woman who loved Etienne McCarthy was gone. Buried. And a new one, colder, harder, was rising from the ashes.