My General Mother Ruined Me For My Cousin—Then Regretted It Too Late Chapter 07
Within hours, the estate was gutted. Every staff member who had ever taken a bribe to short my meals, ignore my calls, or report my movements to Sienna was identified and removed—fired, prosecuted where applicable, blacklisted from the industry. Sienna was confined to her quarters. Her accounts were frozen. Her name was stripped from every trust document.
Damien’s private medical team took over my care. Debridement. IV antibiotics. Real wound dressings. Sleep that wasn’t interrupted by pain.
I lay on clean sheets, propped on my side. My father came in carrying a small plate. “Damien stayed downstairs. He said I deserved privacy while I recovered.” He set the plate on my nightstand. “Chestnut pastries. He had someone research what you liked as a child. Found out you loved chestnut. Had these flown in from a bakery in New York.”
I bit into one. The flavor—nutty, sweet, familiar—hit me so hard my eyes stung. I hadn’t tasted chestnut in fifteen years. Sienna was allergic to tree nuts, so my mother banned anything containing nuts from the entire estate.
My father watched me. His voice came out rough. “Nineteen years. You’re my daughter. And I didn’t know you loved chestnut pastries.”
He touched my hair—so gently. I almost flinched. Not from the touch. From how unfamiliar it was.
“Today. The doctor arriving at exactly that moment. Tessa’s testimony. Damien standing right there. You planned it.”
I didn’t deny it. “Does that make me calculating?”
“No. It breaks my heart. That a girl your age had to become this strategic just to survive in her own home.” He shook his head, eyes wet. “Your mother and I spent decades in defense and diplomacy. Strategy. Reading threats. Everything we learned was for survival. You learned the same thing. You only ever fought to stay alive. You hurt no one who didn’t hurt you first.”
“She knows now. Every single thing. The years of neglect. The diverted resources. She knows—and she is sorry. I believe she really is. She’s outside this door. Will you see her?”
I was quiet for a long moment. And I realized something.
For nineteen years, I had trained myself to listen for her reasons, her excuses, the smallest sign that she might choose me.
After the training center, I stopped listening.
I turned my face to the wall. I made sure my voice carried.
“No. I don’t want to hear another excuse.”