–Livana–
The sting never fades. Two years since the pepper spray attack, and my eyes still burn like it was yesterday. But the doctors confird it wasn't just pepper spray—it was a calculated weapon designed to blind soone with my condition. Albinism. A curse that left without lanin, without protection, and now... without sight.
Total darkness. That's my world now.
My fiancé plays the dutiful caretaker, but I may be blind—not deaf, not stupid. I hear his whispers with the staff, feel his lingering touches that last a second too long. Father already stole the company Mother left for Laura and . They keep bringing docunts for to sign, but I won't. Not ever. I even wear gloves in my own ho now—no fingerprints to forge.
Laura helped record my testant with lawyers. Every cent of Mother's inheritance will go to charities before it touches their hands. Only Laura keeps her share—my sister, the CEO, the one who still cries for when she thinks I can't hear. The only person who ever set aside her pride to beg Damon Blackwell for help... the sa man who tornted in high school, then took to bed when I was drugged and vulnerable.
"I'm so fucking annoyed at that little bitch," Laura grumbles. My fingers tighten around the teacup—warm porcelain the only anchor in this endless night.
Damon Blackwell. Sleeping with the enemy was better than being assaulted by three strangers, but the drug's aftereffects nearly killed . Heart racing, lungs burning, pepper spray searing my corneas—I still wake gasping from that mory.
"She mocked in front of my boyfriend!" Laura's voice cuts through my thoughts. I wonder if Damon's married now. Laura babbled about him for months after they shipped overseas for surgeries that never worked.
"Broke up with that cheater after catching him pounding Carrie. Turns out he's Damien's rival, so I made a little contract."
"With Damien Blackwell?" My voice stays flat, but my spine stiffens.
"We've been friends since high school! Our families hate each other, but he always forgot his lunch money. I shared my bento boxes." Her grin is audible. "He's basically my idiot best friend."
"Hmm." I tilt my head, mourning the fact I'll never see her smile again.
"The eyedrops I gave your nurse—are they working?"
I exhale through my nose. Every promised "miracle cure" has failed. Even now, under Richard's "care," I know the truth—he'd prefer blind forever.
"Laura," I lower my voice. "Are we alone?"
Fabric rustles as she leans in. The southern breeze carries her mint-and-honey perfu. "Yes."
"Any nurse you assign will be bribed. They want broken. Even Father."
Silence. Then—a hum. Laura's thinking sound. She always has a plan.
"New nurse," she declares, footsteps circling behind . Her arms wrap around my shoulders, lips brushing my cheek. "I'll never stop searching for a cure. We'll make them suffer like you promised."
Her hope is a knife to my ribs. I pat her arm. "If this works... from total darkness to even a sliver of light—"
"—I'll have soone slit their throats," I finished.
She giggles. "eting Damien now. My ex will be at the race tonight."
"I'd like to hear the engines."
"Dad would never allow it. Place is crawling with underworld trash." Her kiss lands on my temple. "Don't get in trouble."
"You either."
As her footsteps fade, I explore the table with my fingertips—knocking over the teacup. Liquid seeps into grass.
"Miss Liva!" The nurse scurries forward.
"Clean it." My walking stick finds my hand. I know this house by heart—every step, every turn. I bought it after becoming President of Mother's company, back when I still had sight.
Carrie's giggle slithers through the garden. "Sis! We brought strawberry cake!"
"You love it, right, love?" Richard's voice makes my skin crawl. That bastard slips into my room at night, whispering things he thinks I can't understand.
"I neither love nor hate strawberries," I say, turning toward their voices. "That's your preference, Rich."
"Babe, you adore them." His footsteps advance. My stick jerks up, barring his path.
"Already ate with Laura. I'm resting now."
"Let escort you—"
"Unnecessary." Twenty-three steps to the staircase. Soone blocks the rail. "Move, Carrie. Why are you even here?"
"Dad sent . There's a party tonight—car races, betting. Want to co?"
A pause. Damon will be there. "Wake before dinner."
Upstairs, I lock my bedroom door and navigate to the closet's far corner—party clothes waiting like armor. My hidden phone clicks on.
"Laura. Turn back. Help dress for the party."
"Ohhh!" Her squeal could shatter glass. "Ga on!"
A second phone plays audio from Richard's room—moans, skin slapping.
"They're fucking again?" Laura groans.
"Turning my ho into a brothel," I murmur, running my fingers over a sequined gown. "I'll handle it."
"Or marry soone else! We could—"
"This house is mine." Just like the hidden caras Richard doesn't know about. The ones recording every ti he and Carrie defile my sheets.
Then Laura drops the bomb. "Damon's coming tonight."
A smile curls my lips. "Perfect. Let's make Richard unravel."
"Wear your glasses!"
"Yes, Mother." I hang up as Richard's voice floats from the speaker.
"You're no comparison to Livana, Carrie... We just have to make sure that my wedding with Livana will be held flawlessly in two weeks. We must have all of the paper ready." Richard moaned after.
"Then, how about a honeymoon?" There's a sound of jealousy toward Richard.
"Carrie, dear. You are my precious. Of course, we just have to put her to sleep. I can hire a man to do the job for that, since she's blind."
I imdiately felt disgusted by their conversation.
My fingernails bite into my palms.
They want a war? They'll get one.
But not now. I had sothing bigger planned. I sat down in front of my vanity mirror and pressed the button beneath it. The hidden drawer beside slid open—my secret compartnt, where I kept every voice recording, every piece of damning evidence. I might be blind, but Laura had helped set everything up.
I knew my little sister. She might be a manipulator too, but she would never betray . She would never side with my traitorous family. Unless... maybe I could convince her to pretend—just for show.
I reached for the tablet and used voice commands to replay their betrayals, one by one. I suspected Carrie's mother knew about her seducing Richard. But my father didn't. Neither did my grandparents.
I couldn't wait for that wedding to happen. I'd let Carrie choose it—let her think she'd won.
And when the ti ca, I'd reveal my revenge wedding gown. It was going to be so much fun.
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