LENA’S POV

Immediately I woke up, I remembered exactly how I landed in that hospital bed. But I had to keep Marcelo and Francine on their toes. I wanted to be two steps ahead of them so I feigned the temporary memory loss. And they believed me.

“Tell me dear, what actually happened?” Mom probed.

I went on to give her all the details of everything I heard and how I was being pushed down the stairs.

When my father's mistress, Celia and her daughter, Francine, suddenly burst into our lives five years ago, everything changed.

My dad, in an attempt to make amends for his past mistake, had invited them to live with us after discovering Francine was his biological daughter. She was conceived during an infidelity that had been kept hidden from my mother.

At first, my dad tried to make it work, insisting that we welcome them into our home. Francine was his first daughter after all, a year older than me. He cheated when Mom couldn’t give birth few years after their marriage.

But it was clear from the start that Francine had no interest in being a part of our family. She was cold and constantly tried to one-up me.

I remembered the day they moved in so vividly. Francine sauntered through the door, eyeing our house with greed. She was definitely not used to that luxury. Her mother, Celia, simpered at my father, batting her eyelashes. "Thank you so much for having us, darling. We're just thrilled to be here."

I could see the way they had my dad wrapped around their little fingers, and it made me sick to my stomach. From that moment on, it was like my mother and I ceased to exist in our own home.

Francine would constantly belittle me, mocking my interests and insecurities. She knew exactly how to get under my skin, knowing that I had always been the shy and quiet one.

And my father, was so blinded by his affection for Francine and her mother that he never saw the way they were tormenting me.

The worst part was, no matter how much evidence I tried to present, he never believed me. Francine and her mother were masters of deception, putting on a show of sweetness and light whenever my dad was around. They told him lies and he ate it up like a lovesick fool.

I remembered pleading with him to see the truth. "Daddy, please, you have to believe me! Francine is not the angel she pretends to be!"

But he just shook his head, chuckling and patting my hand. "Oh, Lena, you worry too much. Francine is family now, and we have to support her."

It was infuriating, watching him choose them over me and my mother time and time again. I felt so powerless, so invisible in my own home. And the worst part was, now I knew Francine and Celia were just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

If anything happened to Dad, I was supposed to get most of his wealth as his biological daughter. My uncle was going to run the mafia empire if I didn’t want to get my hands dirty. But then despite Francine being an illegitimate daughter, she was still going to get a percentage. But that wasn’t enough for her.

The thought of them wanting to take away everything made my blood boil.

I had been hesitant to have Francine attend my engagement party, fearing she would ruin the celebration. But I never knew she was sleeping with my own fiancé and was a mistress just like her mother.

Now I knew why Marcelo had extended her an invite. He loved her, not me. I gave him everything for the last ten years. All for what?

I sat up, a firm expression on my face. "Mama, I want to take over the family business."

Her ears perked up at the sound of that.

"Mija, do you understand what you're getting into? This life is about bloodshed, betrayal, and constant fear. Is that really what you want?"

I nodded, my jaw set. "Yes, it's exactly what I want. I want to take control and make sure we're never weak again."

Mom's eyes narrowed. "You're angry and hurting, but getting involved in the mafia won't solve anything. It won't bring back your baby or heal your heart."

I shook my head. "You're right. But it will give me the satisfaction of watching Francine and Marcelo pay for what they've done."

Mom's grip on my hand tightened. "If I had known Marcelo was involved in this, I never would have encouraged your relationship with him."

"It's not your fault, Mama. Francine and Marcelo are experts at deception. But that ends now."

LENA’S POV

I was being discharged from the hospital today and Marcelo had no idea. I had been stuck here for four days and Marcelo had visited me only once. And even then, he had barely spared me ten minutes, claiming he had more "pressing operations" to attend to. I scoffed bitterly, shaking my head.

I looked down at the date on my phone and felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. Today was our relationship anniversary.

Of course he wouldn't remember our anniversary

- not when he was too busy cozying up to that little snake, Francine.

As I made my way out to the front of the hospital, I spotted my mother waiting for me by her car, looking concerned. She never left my side all these days.

"Mija, are you ready to go home?" she asked gently.

I hesitated, staring down at the crumpled discharge papers. "Actually, Mama, I... don't think I want to go back to the mansion just yet.I can't stand the thought of seeing Francine and her mom’s face right now."

Mom frowned. "But mija, that's your home. Where else would you go?"

"I'll stay in a hotel for the night," I replied. "But I'd like to go to Marcelo's place first. I need to grab some of my things."

Her brow furrowed, but she didn't argue, simply nodding and ushering me into the car. The drive to Marcelo's extravagant mansion was silent, except my occasional sniffling here and there as I fought to keep my emotions in check.

When we arrived at the mansion, I told her to wait outside while I went in to collect my belongings. I was determined to pack every single thing that belonged to me.

As I walked towards the entrance, Marcelo's guards looked hesitant to let me in. I glared at them. "Get out of my way."

They stepped aside, and I stormed into the house.

I spotted Marcelo and Francine sitting at the dining table, having a grand feast.

Marcelo was laughing and chatting with her, completely carefree. He didn't even remember our anniversary, but he was celebrating with my half-sister?

As I listened in, he praised her, calling her a "bad ass" who had outsmarted some guys and secured a great deal. He said she was meant to be a mafia queen. I rolled my eyes in disgust.

Francine's annoying laughter rang out, and I had to resist the urge to go drag her by her stupid red hair.

And then the final blow - Francine casually mentioned that she might be pregnant.

I felt the blood draining from my face as I watched Marcelo's face light up with pride, pulling Francine close and kissing her forehead. This was the same man who had forced me to terminate every single one of our pregnancies. But here he was, overjoyed at the prospect of having a child with her.

I had to clench my fists to keep from losing it right then and there.

I carefully stepped into the dining room, striving to look calm.

Marcelo sprang to his feet, a look of surprise on his face. "Wow, Lena, when did you get discharged?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

I scoffed. "How would you know hmm? You were too busy with dear Francine to even bother visiting me in the hospital."

Francine, who was watching the exchange with a sly smile on her face, raised an eyebrow. Marcelo, however, looked taken aback. "Oh no, it's not like that, darling," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "We're just celebrating because we landed a major business deal worth millions."

"Oh, is that so?" I asked not hiding the sarcasm in my voice.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, and you should come sit with us and celebrate. Francine is your sister, after all, and her win is yours too."

I laughed harshly. "Francine is not my sister," I spat. "She's a product of a mistress, a woman who destroyed our family with her selfishness and greed. And now, it looks like she wants to follow in her mother's footsteps and become a mistress herself."

Francine's face turned red with anger, and she dramatically clutched at her chest. "How could you be so mean, Lena?"

Marcelo shot me a stern look. "Come on, you need to apologize to Francine,"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't have time for this," I said, turning to walk away.

Francine kicked the chair back noisily and rose to her feet. "I'm leaving," she said with a huff. "I won't be disrespected by this little twig."

Marcelo rushed after her, calling out apologies and reassurances. I watched them go, shaking my head.

Walking to my room, I grabbed my suitcase and started loading my things in it. I was leaving this pathetic excuse of a man right now.

LENA’S POV

Before Francine walked off angrily, my eyes had wandered to her feet. She was wearing a pair of designer gemstone shoes made in Paris - the exact same pair I wanted desperately for my birthday. I remembered how I had begged Marcelo to get them for me, but he had told me they were out of stock. Instead, he had bought me a pair of shoes I didn't even like, and I had only worn them to please him.

Now I realized why Marcelo had told me the shoes were out of stock. It was because he had gotten them for Francine. I felt like such a fool for not seeing the signs earlier. Marcelo had always favored Francine, but I had been too blinded by his fake love to notice.

I thought back to all the times Francine had done something, and Marcelo had never seemed to have a problem with it. He had always been so accommodating, so supportive. I had thought he was just being nice because Francine was the illegitimate daughter, but now I realized that was just a lie. He had always favored Francine, and I had been too stupid to see it.

I shook my head, feeling sorry for myself. I was done with all the bullshit. I needed some time to clear my head, to figure out what I wanted to do next.

I dragged my suitcase out of the house, taking one last look at the place that had once been my home. My mom was waiting for me outside by the car.

She rushed to my side, pulling me into a tight embrace, and I finally allowed the tears to drop down my cheeks.

"I'm done, Mama," I whispered, feeling my heart breaking. Mom nodded sadly and drove me to the hotel.

As we got checked in, a sudden idea struck me. Perhaps a change of scenery was exactly what I needed. Without wasting time, I pulled out my phone and began searching for flights to Las Vegas.

In thirty minutes, I booked a ticket for the following morning, and a charming Airbnb rental that had caught my eye online.

It was stunning, just the perfect size and modern decor I fancied. However it was expensive, $1000 per night, but I didn't care. I needed a place to escape, and somehow it called out to me and felt like home.

The next morning, Mom drove me to the airport.

As we hugged goodbye, I reminded her not to let anyone know where I was. I needed time for myself and didn’t want anybody’s interference.

I boarded the plane to Las Vegas, feeling excited. I had always loved Las Vegas, the bright lights, the energy, the freedom.

When I finally got settled that same day in my new apartment, my phone rang. It was Marcelo and I wondered what the hell he wanted now. I reluctantly swiped the call left.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Hey, babe," Marcelo replied, his voice smooth as silk. "I'm so sorry, but I have some bad news. I just got a call from the photographer, and I won't be able to make it to our wedding photo shoot tomorrow."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling irked. "So, we should reschedule?"

He hesitated for a moment before responding. "No need, babe. What's the point of wedding photos, anyway? We can just use some old photos we took in the past. And we'll take a ton of photos on our wedding day, so it's not a big deal."

I felt a spark of anger ignite within me. Was he kidding me? Our wedding photos were important to me, and he was just brushing them off like they didn't matter.

"And then about our engagement party?" Marcelo continued. "We don't need to have another one, right? The last one didn't exactly go well."

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my cool. "Of course. What about my bachelorette party? Should we just cancel it too?"

"No, you should still have it. How about the night before the wedding? But Francine will have to be there. We can't allow her to feel left out."

I couldn't believe the audacity of this man. He was forcing me to include Francine in my bachelorette party, just like he had forced her into our engagement party.

"Of course, Francine will be there," I said, my voice tight. "Just as you wish."

As soon as I hung up the phone, I felt like hitting it against the wall. I was done with Marcelo and his controlling behavior. I was done with the wedding, the engagement party, and the whole charade.

I quickly grabbed my phone and shot a text to my friends in our group chat. "Hey girls, change of plans. The bachelorette party is now a cute sleepover... because I'm calling off the wedding!"