“I’m sorry, ma’am. We’ve been instructed not to move forward with any charges filed by you against Miss Bianca Green.”
“What?” I stared at him. “She attacked me. I have stitches. Hospital records. Witnesses!”
He didn’t flinch. “We were told you may be suffering from mental instability. That you have a history of emotional outbursts and exaggerated claims. It was recommended we advise you to speak directly with your husband.”
The air left my lungs.
Troy.
Of course. He owned this city. The police. The hospitals. The narrative.
I had no one. No voice. No power. I was drowning in a sea Troy controlled with a flick of his finger.
I lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling. Hours passed. The day blurred into night.
And then I heard the door click open.
He didn’t knock. He just walked in, still in that same custom-tailored suit, hair perfectly styled, face unreadable.
I sat up.
“Troy—”
“Apologize to Bianca.”
No hello. No concern.
My jaw clenched. “What?”
“You heard me.”
I stared at him. “I was in the hospital. I had stitches. She attacked me.”
“You tried to file an assault case against her,” he snapped. “Do you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
“She hit me with a shoe! She split my head open over a dress and called me a gold digger!”
“She’s my sister,” he said coldly. “She was just trying to protect me. You went on a shopping spree like you were emptying my account. What did you expect?”
“That was the first time I used your card. Ever. I’m your wife.”
“She is my stepsister.”
I blinked. “What?”
I felt something inside me crack.
“You’re choosing her over me,” I said. “Your wife.”
He didn’t even hesitate.
“Yes.”
The word dropped like a blade.
I sucked in a sharp breath, but it felt like my lungs refused to expand.
“That’s unfair! I almost died!”
“Yet, you didn’t. You know her. It’s just her temper, okay? And she didn’t mean it. I grounded her for a day, and took her card. That’s done.”
“No, that’s not done—”
He shook his head like I was the one being unreasonable.
“I’m not having this conversation again. You’re going to apologize to her. End of story.”
He turned to leave.
“Take a rest,” he added without looking back. “I still need to take care of my sister. She was traumatized seeing you like that, you were covered in blood.”
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
I sat there in silence. Blood still crusted around my scalp. A dull ache bloomed in my skull.