Chapter 6
1096 Words
When Beatriz regained consciousness, she was once again lying in a hospital bed.
The moment she opened her eyes, a wave of agony ripped through her lower body, causing her to sharp gasp for air.
"Bea!"
Someone was squeezing her left hand tightly. Lucas, standing right over her, leaned down with a look of intense concern. His voice was completely shot, and his eyes were bloodshot from a total lack of sleep.
"You're finally awake."
Beatriz looked down at her legs. Aside from the blinding pain, she felt absolutely nothing.
Lucas quickly tried to soothe her. "Your legs were broken from the fall. For now, you just need to lie still and rest. But don't worry, Bea. I'm going to find you the absolute best specialists in the country. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."
He clutched her hand, his palms sweating and shaking from the lingering horror of it all. "Thank God you only fell from the third floor. If you had been any higher, I don't even want to think about what would've happened."
Beatriz just stared at him, her eyes completely dead. Expressionlessly, she yanked her hand out of his grip and slowly closed her eyes.
"I need to rest. Get out."
If it weren't for him, how would she have ended up broken on the pavement? Hearing him play the worried husband now was just pure hypocrisy.
Lucas choked on his words, visibly stung by her icy rejection. He looked at her, his face riddled with guilt.
"Bea, I already dug into it. I know the truth now. I totally misjudged you. Those creeps weren't hired by you. Hazel got jealous and paid those people to put on that whole twisted show." He sighed.
"I've already dealt with the guys who hurt you. They got a brutal lesson. As for Hazel," he rubbed the bridge of his nose, his voice dripping with helpless frustration, "I've spoiled her way too much over the years, and she lost all sense of boundaries. I've locked her up at the house so she can't pull any more stunts. In a few days, I'm shipping her overseas. She'll never get another chance to hurt you."
Beatriz had just shattered both of her legs and nearly died, yet Lucas's idea of justice was simply sending the mastermind, Hazel, on an international vacation.
Because her disappointment ran so deep, Beatriz didn't even have the energy to expect anything better from him. Even her rage had burned out into cold indifference.
She looked at him with a mocking smile, letting every syllable drip with sarcasm. "Wow. What a devastating punishment."
Lucas looked incredibly uncomfortable. But just as he opened his mouth to explain himself, his phone started buzzing. It was a FaceTime call from Hazel.
Frowning, Lucas declined it.
A second later, it rang again.
After he rejected the call four or five times in a row, Beatriz snapped, utterly annoyed. "Just take it outside. Stop making a racket in my room."
Left with no choice, Lucas swiped to answer. "Hazel, stop throwing tantrums."
Before he could even finish his sentence, Hazel's hysterical, tear-choked voice erupted from the speaker.
"Lucas, I am not going abroad! If you're going to kick me out just so you can play house with that b***h, I'd rather just die! Since I'm such a burden to you, don't worry, I won't be a nuisance for much longer!"
With that dramatic threat, she grabbed a sharp fruit knife and dragged it hard across her wrist.
Lucas's pupils shrank to pinpricks, and he let out a panicked scream. "Hazel, don't do it!"
But the blade had already sliced into her skin. Blood splattered across the screen, and the color instantly drained from Hazel's face.
Lucas completely lost his mind, frantically trying to calm her down. "Be good, Hazel, please be good. Don't do anything reckless. I'm coming right now. Whatever is bothering you, we can talk it out face-to-face, okay?"
He whipped his head around to look at Beatriz. "Bea, I..."
Before he could even formulate the lie, Beatriz cut him off, looking profoundly exhausted. "Just go. It's not like it's the first time anyway."
It was always the same routine. Every single time things didn't go Hazel's way, she would either throw a massive tantrum or resort to slitting her wrists. And every single time, Lucas would cave, abandoning his wife on a dime to run to his sister's side.
Lucas froze, looking guilty, but the raw panic over Hazel's safety won out. He bolted for the door, tossing a final line over his shoulder.
"Bea, just get some rest first. I'll be back to take care of you the second I can."
Then, he ran off without a backward glance.
Beatriz leaned back against her pillows and closed her eyes, tears silently tracking down her cheeks.
She couldn't stop her mind from drifting to the past. Back then, even if she just caught a minor head cold, Lucas would cancel every meeting and stay glued to her bedside to nurse her back to health.
When she would try to push him away, terrified of getting him sick, he would wrap his arms around her and murmur softly against her skin.
"No matter how big the business deal is, it doesn't mean a thing compared to you. You're my entire world."
"Bea, you don't always have to be so strong. Lean on me a little bit."
Back then, his heart and his eyes were completely filled with her. Now, there wasn't a single shred of her left in his sight.
And frankly, she didn't need him anymore.
Wiping the tears from her face, Beatriz took her phone and personally hired a private caregiver to look after her.
Lucas never showed his face again that day.
But a few days later, while the caregiver was wheeling her down the hall for a routine checkup, Beatriz made a shocking discovery. Hazel had actually checked into the hospital room right next door to hers.
As they rolled past the partially open door, Beatriz caught a clear view of the interior.
The wound on Hazel's wrist was neatly bandaged. Lucas had her pinned flat against the mattress, kissing her with a frantic, breathless passion.
A cold, bitter laugh escaped Beatriz's lips.
So this was the girl Lucas swore up and down he only loved like a sister.
With a completely blank, detached expression, she pulled out her phone, flipped the camera to video mode, and aimed it directly at the two people making out in the room.
- Writer
