Traded To Mr Dawson Cage

Nine

The woman kept walking toward me.

My eyes burned instantly with tears as hope hit me.

“She’s alive…” I whispered breathlessly to myself. “She’s alive…”

Beside me, I felt Dawson’s gaze but I barely noticed him until his hand suddenly closed around my arm tightly.

The pain snapped me slightly back into reality.

“What is this?” he asked coldly.

No one answered him.

Morgana only smiled faintly near the church entrance.

Dawson clenched his jaw.

His expression darkened as he looked between all of us and then finally, his gaze returned to me.

“You’ll be brought back to me when this is all over,” he said flatly.

I furrowed my brows at him. It almost felt like he was deliberately leaving me in the midst of wolves.

Before I could say anything to him, he released my arm and turned away instantly with his bodyguards in tow.

I watched him leave in a daze.

Then my attention snapped right back to the woman now standing only a few feet away from me.

She looked at me calmly.

Why wasn’t she saying anything?

“Mom…” My voice cracked badly this time as I took a shaky step forward.

The look on her face reminded me of the last time she begged me to let her go back at the hospital.

Tears blurred my vision completely at the memory.

“I thought you were dead,” I whispered.

The woman still didn’t respond. Instead, Morgana suddenly stepped in front of her and smiled.

The sight of that smile immediately made my stomach twist.

“Well,” she said lightly, folding her arms across her chest, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I frowned through my tears. “What…?”

My eyes desperately moved back to the woman again. I felt the urge to reach for her and ask her why she let me believe she died but my legs couldn't move. So I lifted my hand to touch her but Morgana immediately slapped my hand away.

I gasped softly in shock.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

Her eyes glittered with amusement. “This woman is not your mother.”

Her words hit me so hard that my mind went blank.

“What…?”

I stared at the woman and then back at Morgana again.

“She…” My voice trembled violently. “She looks exactly like her.”

“I know,” Morgana said calmly.

Confusion swirled in my head.

“What is going on?” I asked weakly.

The woman finally stepped closer, close enough for me to notice the subtle differences on her face.

The woman studied me quietly for a moment before she finally spoke.

“My name,” she said smoothly, “is Patricia Snow.”

Her voice sounded elegant which was nothing like my mother’s soft warmth.

Morgana smirked beside her.

“She’s my mother,” Morgana added casually.

I stared at both of them in complete confusion.

What is Morgana trying to pull?

My breathing became uneven.

Twin?

The word echoed loudly inside my head.

I stared at Patricia again and suddenly all the similarities made horrible sense.

“No…” I whispered weakly.

Morgana looked delighted by my confusion.

“Yes,” she said smoothly. “Your precious mother had a twin sister.”

My throat burned.

But my mother didn't mention she had a twin.

“She and my father were married first,” Morgana continued casually, like she was discussing gossip instead of tearing my world apart. “Then your mother came along and spread her legs for a married man.”

“Stop it,” I whispered instantly.

But Morgana only laughed.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” she mocked. “That pathetic woman you worshipped so much was nothing but a mistress.”

Tears burned my eyes again. “No... that’s not true.”

“It is.”

“She wouldn’t—”

“She did,” Patricia interrupted as her voice sliced through me with bitter precision.

“You think your mother was innocent?” Patricia scoffed. “She ruined this family.”

I shook my head desperately. “No… no, my mother wouldn’t do that…”

But even as I said it, doubt started creeping in and I hated that I was letting the doubt spiral because my mother never spoke about the past or about my father either.

My entire body shook.

“She stole my husband,” Patricia continued with visible disgust. “Then had the nerve to play the victim afterward.”

“No,” I murmured weakly.

Morgana rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Look at her,” she muttered to Patricia. “She still thinks her mother was some saint.”

“She was a good person!” I snapped suddenly.

My voice echoed through the nearly empty church.

My chest heaved unevenly as tears spilled down my cheeks again.

“She loved me,” I whispered painfully. “She worked herself sick trying to raise me alone—”

“Oh please,” Morgana cut in harshly. “That woman was a curse.”

Her words hit me like a slap.

“She deserved everything that happened to her,” Morgana continued cruelly. “And honestly? So do you.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“What is wrong with you?” My voice cracked. “She’s dead!”

“And?”

I flinched.

Morgana looked completely emotionless.

“You should know that no one mourned when she died except you,” she said coldly. “That should tell you enough.”

Something inside me broke when I turned desperately toward Patricia.

“You’re her sister,” I whispered. “How can you talk about her like this?”

Patricia’s expression hardened instantly before she tore a deafening slap across my face.

The force snapped my head sideways as pain exploded across my cheek immediately.

I gasped softly in shock and everything blurred for a second.

“You don’t get to question me,” Patricia hissed.

My cheek burned violently as tears slipped faster down my face. I slowly looked back at her and saw the hatred that filled her eyes.

“She destroyed this family,” Patricia spat. “Your deranged mother brought shame into my life and poisoned everything she touched.”

“No…” I whispered brokenly.

Patricia laughed bitterly. “She acted innocent while ruining our lives,” she continued. “And then she raised you into the same pathetic existence.”

I shook my head quickly. “She loved me,” I repeated weakly, like saying it enough times would somehow protect my mother’s memory from them.

Morgana sighed dramatically. “This is exhausting.”

Then she smiled again—that same awful smile.

“But I’ll admit one thing,” she added lightly. “Selling you to Dawson was probably the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

My stomach twisted into knots at her words.

Patricia actually nodded in approval. “You handled it well,” she told Morgana calmly. “Very well.”

I stared at both of them in horror. “You sold me like I was nothing,” I whispered.

Morgana shrugged carelessly. “You were useful.”

Patricia looked me up and down with open disdain.

“Maybe now you understand your place.”

Fresh tears rolled down my face but I wiped them angrily.

“Where is my mother buried?” I asked shakily. “Tell me.”

Patricia smirked faintly before she gave me the location.

The moment I heard it, my feet wobbled with instant relief.

I snifled because that tiny piece of information was all I had left of my mother now.

Beside Patricia, Morgana started laughing and Patricia joined her.

The sound echoed horribly through the church walls as I felt humiliated and broken.

My lips trembled violently. “You’re both horrible,” I whispered.

Morgana’s expression instantly darkened.

“What did you say?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to continue.

“My mother may be gone,” I said shakily, “but at least she wasn’t cruel like you.”

Immediately, pain exploded across my other cheek this time as Morgana struck me hard enough to make me stumble sideways.

I gasped sharply, nearly losing my balance in the heavy wedding dress.

“Know your place,” Morgana hissed coldly. “You belong to Dawson now.”