The Voice He Destroyed A Singer's Revenge

I collapsed to the floor.

Like a drowning person, I thrashed and fought for air.

I tried to scream, to wail, but all that came out were broken, mangled sounds.

I clawed at the ground, trying to drag myself upright.

I needed to get to the hospital. I needed to see my mother.

The moment I staggered through the door, I slammed straight into a broad chest.

"Carla, I called your name outside the private room. Why did you ignore me?"

I lifted my head to look at him.

My mind was flooded with grief so enormous it drowned out every thought.

But through the haze, I could see it in his eyes: fury, accusation, and beneath it all, a flicker of fear he couldn't quite hide.

"Ann and I are getting married next month. Her brain cancer has gotten worse. It's her last wish, and I have to give her that."

That line again.

I'd lost count of how many times Hugh had said those words.

Three months ago, right after I lost my voice and the most important opportunity of my life, Hugh had turned around and introduced Ann Swanson.

He funneled every resource he'd pulled through his connections straight to her, single-handedly launching her as the music industry's rising dark horse.

He'd held me that night and said, This girl is pitiful. She has brain cancer. She doesn't have much time left. I just want to help her fulfill her dream.

Later, I caught Hugh and Ann kissing in his car.

His excuse came just as smoothly: Carla, you're the only woman I'll ever love. That kiss meant nothing. She can't handle emotional distress.

I'd laughed, cold and hollow. "So when you have children with her someday, that'll just be helping her fulfill her dream too?"

Hugh's handsome face had twisted. His hands on my shoulders tightened involuntarily, trembling.

"What are you talking about? What's gotten into you?"

I stared at him. I didn't know how to answer.

When I stayed silent, panic crept into his eyes.

Then his gaze drifted past me, landing on the suitcases piled by the bed.

"Why are you packing? Where are you going?"

His voice climbed, raw with agitation.

After a long pause, something shifted in his expression, as though he'd confirmed a suspicion. Those striking eyes filled with contempt.

"Stop this, Carla. You love me too much to actually leave. Besides..." A thin smile. "Your father's jade pendant is still with me."

My eyes went wide.

So it was Hugh. Hugh had taken my father's pendant.

Of course. No one else knew the combination to the safe.

He'd planned ahead, keeping that one piece of leverage to make sure I could never slip out of his grip.

The next day, I drifted to the hospital like a ghost.

My mother's surgery had been a success. She was awake.

I stepped into the room and saw a faint smile resting on her face. She seemed to be in good spirits.

I forced myself to brighten, pasting on a smile as I walked over.

She reached for my hand, her touch gentle.

"My little girl is all grown up. Getting married soon."

I froze. The smile locked on my face.

Then it hit me. She thought I was the one marrying Hugh.

And honestly, shouldn't it have been?

I was Hugh's girlfriend. His real, legitimate girlfriend. But the woman walking down the aisle with him wasn't me.

I couldn't let her worry. So I nodded.

Her smile widened.

"Back then, when you insisted on coming home for that boy, your father acted like he didn't care. But he was terrified. Terrified you'd made up your mind to follow Hugh into a hard life, and terrified you'd never come home again."

"Well, now you two have finally made it. Your father can rest easy."

I squeezed her hand tight and didn't dare look up.