Chapter 9
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,
ve
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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
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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 check. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” he said, his voice low and trembling, “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll spend
Chapter 9
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
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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
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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:
