Bianca stood frozen in the living room, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. Sabrina's words sliced through the air, each one sharper than the last.

"I've sent you pictures of your husband cheating and yet you pretend not to see them," Sabrina sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "Last night, I had sex with him right next to you and you still managed to fake sleep. Why aren't you playing deaf and blind now, sis?"

Bianca's breath came in ragged bursts and her body trembled as though it couldn't contain the weight of the truth crashing down on her. She had known, of course, but hearing it from Sabrina's mouth, seeing the cruel delight in her sister's eyes, was a wound that cut deeper than anything Bianca had anticipated.

Her chest heaved violently, the pain of betrayal searing through her. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. Not now. Not when they were looking at her with such contempt. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sabrina's lips curled into a sadistic smile. "Of course," she said coldly. "Because I'm going to be Mrs. West. Why don't you just give it up, sis? You've been a pathetic Mrs. West anyway." Her words were a dagger aimed directly at Bianca's heart and with each syllable, the last vestiges of their sisterly bond were shattered. The facade of affection that had once existed between them crumbled into nothing, revealing the ugly greed and coldness that had been festering beneath the surface all along.

Bianca's legs began to tremble and she felt as if the ground beneath her was giving way. Her body swayed, but she steadied herself by gripping the edge of the table, the cool wood grounding her in that moment. Martha's voice sliced through her thoughts, filled with the same icy authority that had always been present in her presence.

"Bianca, think about it. You've had Sabrina's life for years. If you have any conscience at all, you'll end this pregnancy, divorce Erick and give him back where he belongs—with Sabrina."

The words were a poison, each one twisting in her gut, making it harder to breathe. Bianca's eyes blurred with tears as her chest constricted, unable to take in the magnitude of what was being asked of her.

Before Bianca could process anything further, the front door creaked open and Erick's voice rang out, heavy with confusion and concern. "What's going on?"

He froze in the doorway, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. Bianca stood before him, her face flushed with anger and humiliation, while Sabrina stood beside her, an expression of malicious triumph on her face.

Sabrina's gaze flickered quickly and before anyone could say a word, she burst into fake tears, her sobs loud and dramatic. "Erick, Bianca found out about us."

Hearing his name snapped Erick out of his stupor, but it was too late. His face went ashen, his breath catching in his throat. Panic seized him, his mind racing for a believable explanation. He looked at Bianca, his eyes pleading, but she saw only fear. He'd been caught. "Bianca..." he whispered, his voice desperate.

Bianca's heart was pounding in her chest, but her anger had risen to a boiling point. She no longer cared for explanations, no longer cared about saving face. With every ounce of strength she had left, she lifted her hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed through the room and for a brief moment, the world stood still.

"Erick, you've really outdone yourself," she said, her voice low and filled with contempt.

Martha let out a shrill scream, her face pale with shock. "Bianca, how could you slap Erick?"

But Erick, in his panic, barked at her, his eyes frantic. "Shut up!" he snapped, his voice rising. He turned back to Bianca, reaching out for her hand. "Bianca, listen to me, I can explain. Just please, let me explain!"

Bianca didn't even glance at him. Instead, her gaze stayed cold, unwavering. "Explain?" she sneered, her voice frosty. "Explain what? That you didn't cheat? That you didn't sleep with Sabrina?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out. The panic was overwhelming, drowning out any coherent thoughts. He could see the derision in her eyes, feel the weight of her disgust in the air. And in that moment, he knew that everything he had ever taken for granted was slipping away.

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Bianca's tear-filled eyes locked with his for a long moment before she turned away, not sparing him a second glance. Her footsteps were sharp and deliberate as she walked past him, leaving the room without another word.

***

The drive home was quiet. Bianca sat in the passenger seat, her hands tightly clasped together in her lap, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. The world seemed blurry through her tears, but she didn't wipe them away. She let them fall, each one a silent testament to the pain she could no longer suppress.

Once inside the house, the weight of the silence suffocated her. She turned to face Erick, who had followed her in. He stood in the doorway, his hands wringing nervously as he looked at her.

"Erick," Bianca said softly, her voice filled with a strange calmness that didn't match the chaos inside her. "We're getting a divorce."

The color drained from Erick's face immediately. His mouth opened and closed, as if he couldn't comprehend the words that had just left her lips. "No," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Bianca, I was wrong. You can hit me, scold me, whatever you want. Just don't leave me. I can't live without you. Please, don't leave me. I won't let you leave me, not even if I die."

His words were desperate, tinged with a possessiveness that made Bianca's skin crawl. His eyes were wide, frantic and in them, she saw the obsession he had always tried to hide. It was a suffocating, consuming fear that twisted his features into something unrecognizable.

A shiver ran through Bianca, her stomach churning. She remembered him locking her in the house after a fight, fearing she'd leave. She remembered the threats, the control, the ever-present fear beneath his charm. She couldn't let it happen again.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "Erick, I need some time alone," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

But he wasn't ready to let go. In the next instant, Erick dropped to his knees, his face twisted in an expression of utter desperation. "Bianca, give me another chance, please. Please..."

Bianca didn't look at him as she turned and walked upstairs, her steps deliberate and firm. She could hear him pleading behind her, but it only felt distant, like the sound of someone shouting in a dream.

She closed the door to her room behind her and leaned against it, her chest tight with emotion. A strange sadness welled up inside her. If he was so afraid of losing her, why had he cheated?

The next day, as Bianca descended the stairs, she paused at the top. She glanced at Erick, still kneeling on the floor, his face a mask of despair.

The house felt quiet, the air thick with tension. Bianca stood on the stairs, her body rigid as Erick's hoarse voice pierced the silence. "Bianca..."

She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, but it didn't matter. Her heart was already a stone in her chest, cold and unfeeling. Slowly, she turned to face him, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. She let the tears fall, just enough to make her seem vulnerable, to make her seem like she was still in love with him—like she still cared.

"Erick," Bianca began, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness. "I truly hate you, but I also truly love you. I..." Her words trailed off, leaving just enough room for him to fill in the gaps, to believe for a moment that he might still be able to win her back.

A flicker of joy, too quick to hide, shot across Erick's face. His shoulders relaxed, the weight of his guilt momentarily lifting as he saw the glimmer of hope in Bianca's eyes. He took a step forward, his hands reaching for her and in one swift motion, he enveloped her in his arms.

"Bianca, I won't do it again," he said desperately, his voice cracking. "Forgive me this once and we'll live our lives properly from now on. I swear I'll change. We'll start over. I'll make things right."

Bianca's heart hardened at the words. Cheating wasn't something you just apologized for and moved past. It wasn't a mistake—it was a choice. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, to make him see the truth, but she simply stood there, allowing him to hold her, hiding the bitterness behind her eyes.

'Cheating is either something you do or you don't. Erick, do you even hear yourself?' Bianca thought to herself, her mind a whirlwind of disgust and resentment. She glanced briefly out the window, seeking refuge in the outside world, anything to escape the claustrophobia of this moment.

But just as she thought she might break free, the door slammed open and Sabrina appeared in the doorway, her face contorted with anguish. Sabrina's eyes locked onto Bianca with a mixture of guilt and defiance, but it was clear she had no intention of backing down.

Sabrina didn't waste any time with pleasantries. Dropping to her knees, she sobbed pitifully, her tears flowing freely as she begged for Erick's attention. "Please, sis," she cried, her voice breaking with false humility. "I love Erick. You can still be Mrs. West. I won't fight you for it. Just let me be with him. Please..."

Her plea hung in the air like a thick fog. Bianca's chest tightened and for a split second, she thought she might suffocate from the absurdity of it all. How was it possible that this woman, the one who had betrayed her most, could kneel before her and act as though she were the victim?

Tears streamed down Sabrina's face and her voice cracked with desperation. Despite the tears, a cold smirk tugged at the corners of Bianca's lips. She stood tall, her posture unwavering, as she watched Sabrina's pathetic performance. It was almost comical, how Sabrina thought she could beg for forgiveness when everything had already been laid bare.

Bianca's voice, when it came, was laced with disdain. "You're okay with being a secret mistress for the rest of your life?" she asked, her words cold and sharp, cutting through Sabrina's pretense.

Sabrina's expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she quickly forced a smile. "You will always be Mrs. West, sis," she replied, her tone strained but trying to sound convincing.

Bianca didn't flinch. She looked at Sabrina as though she were a stranger. But then her gaze shifted to Erick and she asked, "What about you? Do you love Sabrina?"

The question hung in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. Erick's eyes darted between the two women, panic flashing across his face. He loved Bianca—that much was true—but he had also fallen for Sabrina. In the midst of his confusion, his hesitation spoke volumes.

"I love you the most," he finally said, his voice a weak attempt at reassuring her. But the words were hollow and even he could hear the uncertainty in them. His heart was divided and the shame of it clung to him like a shadow.

Bianca's lips curled into a bitter smile, her eyes narrowing. She could see through his feigned sincerity and it only made her loathe him more. His evasiveness was all she needed to hear.

With a final glance at both of them, she turned on her heel and left the room. Her silence, however, was misconstrued by Erick and Sabrina as a sign of concession. Erick's face softened, a relieved smile tugging at his lips as he basked in the belief that he had narrowly escaped disaster.

He thought to himself how lucky he was compared to his friends. He had a wife who loved him so much, a wife who, even after discovering his betrayal, couldn't bring herself to leave him. It was a twisted sense of triumph, one born from his conviction that Bianca's love would always be his safety net.

Bianca, however, understood the grim reality all too well. Forgiveness, she knew, wouldn't bring about any kind of remorse. It would only breed more hurt, more humiliation and more betrayal.

After their dirty secret had been exposed, Erick's feelings for Sabrina became painfully clear. No longer did he hide behind the excuse of work. He openly spent time with her, often calling Bianca from her place. "Bianca, be good. Don't wait up for me tonight," he'd say casually. Eventually, the calls stopped altogether.

Erick's actions became more brazen and he began to push Bianca's boundaries further, testing her resolve time and time again. She knew that if she gave in now, it would make things even worse. She couldn't seem weak in his eyes, so she made a show of resistance, of anger. But deep down, every argument, every fight, only fed into Erick's belief that he could do whatever he wanted without consequence.

One weekend, when Erick didn't come home yet again, he made yet another excuse. "Bianca, Sabrina has a cold and no one's there to take care of her. I'll stay with her tonight."

Bianca's response was nothing but silence, a silence that spoke volumes. After hanging up, she didn't waste a second. Without another word, she began to quietly gather all the funds she had managed to save over the years. She had made up her mind. The day she would leave was fast approaching.

***

As the hours stretched into the quiet of the night, Bianca was left alone with her thoughts. The phone rang suddenly, its sharp tone slicing through the silence. Bianca glanced at the screen and saw Elisa's name.

"Bianca," Elisa's voice was urgent, but Bianca could hear the concern beneath it. "I have two things to tell you."

Bianca's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

"It turns out Sabrina's not simply interested in Erick," Elisa explained. "She's here for revenge against the Wests. I haven't found out what they did to her, though."

Bianca's blood ran cold. She had known Sabrina was dangerous, but this? This was something else entirely.

"Should I tell Erick about this?" Elisa asked, her voice cautious.

In the past, Bianca would have immediately answered with an emphatic "Yes." She would have wanted to protect Erick from Sabrina. But now, she shook her head.

"No need," Bianca said, her voice steady. "Erick has chosen Sabrina himself and he should bear the consequences."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then Elisa let out a relieved sigh. "Not telling him is the right move. Losing you for a scheming woman? He'd deserve it."

Bianca let out a bitter laugh, her voice hollow and trembling.

"And the other thing..." Elisa's tone softened, laced with hesitance. "We've been searching for your real parents all this time. There's still no clear lead, but I did uncover something else—your adoptive father... he kidnapped you as a baby years ago."

"What?" Bianca shot to her feet, the chair screeching sharply against the floor as it toppled behind her.

The words echoed in her mind, her knees threatening to buckle. Disbelief and betrayal washed over her, destroying the last vestiges of familial warmth she'd clung to for years. Now, every cold glance and dismissive word from Edward carried a darker meaning.

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, blurring her vision as the reality of her existence unraveled before her. She instinctively looked around, longing for solace, her thoughts drifting to Erick. But just as quickly, her steps faltered.

She remembered.

The man who had once been her sanctuary was now someone else's warmth. He was holding Sabrina, leaving Bianca alone with nothing but the hollow shell of a house and memories that felt like knives.

***

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting the room in a pale glow. Bianca hadn't slept; the night had stretched endlessly, her mind churning with thoughts of her stolen identity and crumbling marriage.

The sound of the front door opening broke her reverie. Erick stepped in, his tall figure framed by the misty morning outside. He froze for a moment, seeing her seated there. Bianca lifted her head, her gaze meeting his.

Something in her eyes was different—empty, hollow, as though the person he had once known no longer existed. The warmth, the pain, the lingering love—all of it was gone, replaced by an impenetrable void. Erick felt an icy chill creep up his spine, a sudden unease taking root in his chest.

"Bianca," he said hoarsely, his voice unsure, his usual confidence faltering.

Bianca stirred, her expression unreadable. Her lips parted, and in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, she asked, "Erick, did you do this because you know I love you?"

The question hit him like a blow. Guilt surged through him, twisting his insides. He crouched down beside her, gently reaching out to cup her cold cheek. "I'm sorry, Bianca," he said, his voice low and trembling. "I'll make it up to you. I'll spend more time with you from now on."

As if to prove his sincerity, he picked up a bag he had brought in and pulled out a dress. The fabric shimmered faintly in the morning light, a masterpiece of the family tailor's craftsmanship. "Look at this," Erick said, attempting a smile. "Do you like it? I had it made especially for you."

Bianca didn't take it. Her gaze lingered on the dress for a moment, then shifted back to Erick. Her lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. Since when did he think she was someone who could be bought with fabric and feigned remorse?

Before she could speak, a voice rang out from the doorway, its tone saccharine and grating.

"Wow, what a beautiful dress!"

Both turned to see Sabrina strolling toward them, her smile as bright as it was false. She paused beside Erick, her eyes flicking briefly toward Bianca with a gleam of triumph.

Without hesitation, Sabrina reached out, snatching the dress from Erick's hands. "Erick, I want this!" she whined, clutching it to her chest like a prized trophy.

Erick frowned, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Don't be ridiculous. This is for Bianca."

"But I need it," Sabrina pouted, leaning against him with exaggerated petulance. "There's an event tonight. Can't she let me borrow it just this once?"

Bianca watched the scene unfold with quiet detachment, her arms folded. Erick, visibly uncomfortable, glanced at her, as if seeking permission. She didn't say a word, her silence as cutting as any refusal. For once, Erick hesitated, finally shaking his head. "No. This dress was made for Bianca."

Sabrina's expression darkened. She threw the dress back at him with a huff and stormed out, her heels clicking angrily against the polished floor. Erick stood frozen for a moment, torn between appeasing Bianca and chasing after Sabrina. After a beat of hesitation, he chose the latter, following Sabrina out the door.

***

Later that afternoon, Sabrina posted a nine-photo collage on her social media with the caption: [Someone ordered ten custom dresses for me to apologize, so I decided to forgive them!]

Not long after, Bianca's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her face remaining impassive as she read the message from her sister: [Sis, your husband's heart is with me. Why are you still holding on to the title of Mrs. West?]

Bianca's fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she typed back a simple response:

[You can have it.]

The reply was devoid of anger, pain, or even sarcasm. It was the truth. Bianca no longer wanted the man who had betrayed her, nor did she care for the title that had brought her nothing but misery.

Sabrina, on the other hand, stared at the message, momentarily stunned. The lack of a fight perplexed her. In her mind, Bianca's words were merely an act of impotent rage. Scoffing, she picked up her phone and dialed her manager.

"Leak the news," she ordered. "Let them know I'm pregnant."

As a minor celebrity, Sabrina was no stranger to attention. Within hours, the announcement went viral. Sabrina's unwed pregnancy became a trending topic, dominating social media.

The internet, as always, was merciless toward women. Within hours, Sabrina's social media accounts were flooded with hateful comments. People called her shameless and accused her of using her personal life to chase popularity. Memes mocking her spread like wildfire. Gossip accounts dug up her past relationships, sensationalizing every trivial encounter into scandalous rumors.