A bitter laugh escaped me, though tears streamed freely down my face.
Roxanne stepped forward delicately, her voice trembling with false vulnerability. “Alessandra, I’m not trying to accuse anyone. I only want to understand why Sofia would do such a thing. She’s still young. It’s not too late to guide her properly. You can’t let her grow up thinking this is acceptable.”
Her hypocrisy made my blood boil. I pushed myself up and spat directly onto her rash-covered cheek.
“Stop pretending you care about Sofia,” I said coldly. “You don’t even know who that person in the video is, yet you’re already pinning it on us. Or are you so desperate to sit in Mrs. Volkov’s seat that you’ll frame a child?”
Vincent’s restraint finally snapped.
Before I could react, his foot slammed into my stomach. The force knocked the air out of me, and my fingers loosened instinctively.
The urn slipped from my grasp.
It hit the ground with a hollow crack. The lid popped off and rolled away. The container toppled, and a cloud of pale gray ashes spilled across the rough concrete floor, spreading in a thin, tragic layer under the harsh light.
For a moment, I felt nothing at all.
All I could see was the gray dust scattered before me.
My scream tore through the narrow hallway.
Ignoring the searing pain in my abdomen, I dropped to my knees and threw myself over the ashes as though I could shield them from further harm.
Vincent tilted his chin slightly and gave a subtle signal. Two bodyguards stepped forward, each gripping one of my arms and hauling me upright despite my struggle.
My eyes remained locked on the ground. My lips moved soundlessly. No voice came out.
Vincent crouched in front of me, lowering his voice into a dangerous whisper. “Where is Sofia? I’m giving you one last opportunity to answer.”
I could not respond. My mind had gone numb.
He straightened slowly, nodding to himself as if reaching a conclusion. “So you won’t talk. You think it’s amusing to ruin someone’s face, is that it?”
One of the bodyguards handed him a bottle of medical alcohol.
Vincent unscrewed the cap and poured the liquid directly onto the ashes scattered on the floor. The alcohol soaked into the gray powder, turning it into a murky paste.
He bent down, scooped up a handful of the mixture, and without hesitation smeared it across my face.