The Sister's Ultimatum
1109 Words
📖 Chapter 18: The Sister’s Ultimatum
Lena didn’t sleep much that night.
Mia had eventually stopped crying and drifted off on the couch, still curled up in her jacket, her face half-hidden in the throw pillow. But even as her sister’s breathing deepened into sleep, Lena lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling and listening to the quiet patter of rain against the windows.
Every few minutes, her eyes would drift to the folder on her desk. Still unopened. Still waiting.
The words she’d written in her journal that night replayed in her head over and over like a warning she couldn’t ignore.
It’s not just my choice anymore.
---
By morning, the rain had stopped, but the tension in the suite hadn’t eased.
Mia was awake early, sitting cross-legged on the couch with her hair pulled into a messy bun, scrolling through her phone with an expression that could cut glass.
When Lena emerged from the bedroom, Mia didn’t even look up.
“You know what I hate most about this place?” she said flatly.
Lena blinked, caught off guard by the abruptness of the question.
“I hate how quiet it is,” Mia continued, still staring at her screen. “Like everyone’s afraid to speak too loud. Like they all know they’re just… waiting for him to decide what happens next.”
She finally lifted her head, her eyes sharp and accusing now.
“And you’ve just… let him decide for you too, haven’t you?”
---
Lena’s chest tightened, but she tried to keep her tone even.
“It’s not that simple, Mia.”
Her sister barked out a bitter laugh. “God, you sound just like him already.”
---
Before Lena could respond, there was a knock at the door.
Not soft. Not tentative.
That same quiet authority she’d come to recognize.
Mia’s head snapped toward the sound, her jaw setting.
When Lena opened the door, Damon stood there.
Of course.
Dressed in another dark suit, his tie knotted neatly, his hair perfectly in place. As if nothing could ever rattle him.
But his eyes told a different story — colder than usual, sharper, as they flicked past Lena to where Mia still sat on the couch.
“Mia,” he said simply.
She rose slowly, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced him.
“You want to talk?” she asked. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
---
Lena opened her mouth, but Mia brushed past her before she could say anything, stepping into the hall and letting the door swing shut behind her.
For a moment, Lena just stood there, her hand still resting on the knob, staring at the wood grain like it might somehow tell her what to do next.
But it didn’t.
---
When she finally stepped into the hall, she found them halfway down the corridor, standing a few feet apart.
Michael lingered nearby, leaning casually against the wall, though his eyes were trained on Mia and Damon like a hawk.
Mia’s voice was sharp enough to cut through the morning quiet.
“You think you can just keep her here? Like she’s some… prize you won? You don’t own her.”
Damon’s reply was calm, measured.
“And yet she hasn’t left.”
“That’s because you’ve made her feel like she can’t,” Mia snapped.
Lena winced at the words, though she stayed where she was, too far away for them to notice her yet.
“She has a family,” Mia continued, her voice shaking now. “She has me. And she left because she thought she didn’t have a choice. But she does. And I’m here to make sure she remembers that.”
Damon didn’t move, didn’t flinch. But his eyes hardened as they met Mia’s.
“You’re very sure of yourself for someone who knows nothing about this,” he said coldly.
“I know enough,” Mia shot back. “I know she deserves better than whatever game you’re playing with her.”
---
Lena stepped forward then, her voice breaking through the charged silence.
“Mia. Stop.”
Both of them turned to her, though neither backed down.
Mia’s eyes were bright with something like fury. “You don’t have to stay here, Lena,” she said, her voice softer now but no less intense. “You don’t owe him anything. Come home. We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Lena’s throat tightened.
Damon’s gaze stayed on her too, quiet and unrelenting.
“No one is forcing you,” he said, though the faintest edge in his tone betrayed how much the words cost him. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”
---
She stood there, caught between them, her heart pounding so loud she could barely hear anything else.
Mia’s hand reached out for hers, trembling slightly.
“Please,” Mia whispered.
---
And then Damon said something she hadn’t expected.
Something that cut through the air like a blade.
“She won’t leave,” he said quietly.
Mia froze. “And how do you know that?”
“Because she already chose,” Damon said simply, his eyes still locked on Lena’s. “She just hasn’t admitted it yet.”
---
Lena’s breath caught in her throat.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then Mia dropped her hand and stepped back, shaking her head.
“If you stay here, you’re a fool,” she said bitterly.
And then she turned on her heel and stormed back toward Lena’s suite, slamming the door behind her.
---
Lena stood frozen, her eyes on the carpet, her fingers still curled at her sides.
Damon didn’t move.
Finally, she forced herself to look up at him.
“You think you know me so well,” she said softly.
His jaw tightened. “I know enough.”
Her lips curved faintly, though it was a sad, tired kind of smile.
“Then why does it feel like I’m the only one here who actually sees you?”
---
He didn’t answer.
Of course he didn’t.
Instead, he simply turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the hall until she was alone again.
---
Later that night, after Mia had finally packed her bag in silence and left without another word, Lena sat alone in her suite.
She stared at the unopened folder on her desk.
She stared at her reflection in the darkened window.
And then she opened her journal and wrote:
Every time he gives me a choice… it feels less like freedom and more like a test. And every time… I fail.
- Writer
