Billionaire Redemption

Chapter 3

Ayra's POV

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Every step sent sharp pain shooting up my thighs, the bandaged wound throbbing beneath the socks I had wrapped earlier.

The teacher’s words kept echoing in my head like a curse I couldn’t shake off: *Ayra, tell your dad to come tomorrow. We have to know what’s distracting you in class.*

I swallowed hard.

Tell my dad? That would be the beginning of the end. He wouldn’t just stop me from going to school, he’d probably break the other leg too.

I let out a long frustrated sigh. I’m tired.

Tired of the pain, the fear.

I have only one place to take my mind off it all.

Mama Tee’s workshop.

It wasn’t anything fancy, just a small bookbinding and print shop tucked away between rows of old buildings. But to me, it was magic.

I love novels. Maybe because they made me feel seen, like I was one of those girls with tragic stories who eventually got saved by a knight in shining armor. Even if that knight was just fiction.

I limped through the entrance, the little bell above the door jingling as I stepped in. “Good afternoon, Mama Tee,” I greeted with a strained smile.

The woman looked up from her worktable and blinked. “Ayra, What happened to your leg?”

I forced a laugh, trying to brush it off. “I fell... and a nail got me pretty bad.”

Mama Tee’s face tightened with concern. “You need a hospital.”

“No…no, I’ll be fine,” I rushed out. The last thing I wanted was to deal with questions or hospital bills I couldn’t pay.

But Mama Tee wasn’t having it. She dropped everything, grabbed her shawl and keys. “No arguments. Let’s go. I’ll pay for the bills if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The whole way to the hospital, I kept saying my thanks. She didn’t say much.

We arrived and waited in the stuffy reception area. I sat down, leg stretched carefully in front of me.

That’s when I saw him.

The weird boy from class.

The only one who didn’t laugh at me today.

Aurelian.

He was walking down the VIP hallway, a lunch bag in his hand, eyes fixed straight ahead like he belonged here. What was he doing in a hospital like this?

Before I could wonder too hard, a nurse called out, “Ayra Kessler!”

I turned my head quickly and just like that, he was gone.

I sighed and stood up slowly, Mama Tee placing a gentle hand on my back to steady me as we walked toward the doctor’s office.

As I stepped into the doctor’s office, the sharp smell of antiseptic instantly hit my nose. My heart pounded faster, not because of the pain, but from the fear of what he might say.

Mama Tee helped me to sit gently on the examination table while the doctor, a calm-looking man with glasses, rolled his stool over to me.

“You must be Ayra.”

I nodded silently.

He gently took off the sock I had used to tie my wound. The second the cloth was removed, fresh blood oozed out again and I winced.

“A nail, right?” He asked and I nodded, again.

He cleaned the area with a solution that burned like fire. I bit my lip to keep from screaming.

“The wound is deep,” he finally said, his voice serious now. “You’re lucky the nail didn’t hit a major vein or tear the muscle more. But it’s infected already, probably from the rust on the nail or how long you left it open.”

Mama Tee sucked in a breath. “Oh no.”

“I’ll give you a tetanus shot, and prescribe antibiotics immediately. You’re going to be staying off that leg for a few days, at least. No stress.”

I blinked fast. “I… I have school and house chores.”

The doctor gave me a look. Not harsh, not angry. Just something I can’t really put out.

“School can wait and chores can be done by someone else,” he said gently. “You don’t want to lose that leg now, do you?”

I shook my head, and for a moment the weight of it all almost broke me.

He gave me the injection and started bandaging the wound properly. I just kept staring at the ceiling, thinking about the class, about that boy, about what the teacher had said. About the storm waiting for me back home.

When we were done, the doctor handed Mama Tee a list of medications.

“Make sure she finishes the antibiotics. And try to keep the wound dry. If it swells or smells, bring her back immediately.”

“Yes, doctor. Thank you,” Mama Tee said.

I muttered a soft, “Thank you, sir,” and he gave me a small nod as we left.

**

The sun had almost set when I reached the gate. My leg ached with every movement, and the dull throbbing from the wound reminded me that I wasn’t healed, far from it.

I stared at the house for a moment, wishing I didn’t have to go in.

Wishing I had somewhere else, anywhere else to call home.

But I didn’t.

So I pushed the gate open and stepped inside.

Barely two seconds later, my father’s voice roared from the living room. "Ayra! Where the hell have you been?!"

I flinched.

The last bit of strength in my legs nearly gave way.

I limped inside slowly, bracing myself for the impact of what was to come. He stood in the center of the room, arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes glaring holes into me.

And beside him, lounging like she owned the place, was Marla, smug and silent, her lips twitching with amusement.

“Why are you walking like a crippled goat?” my father sneered. “And where did you disappear to without permission?!”

I swallowed hard. My voice trembled, but I tried to sound steady.

“I—I went to the hospital. I was pushed down the stairs this morning, and a nail… it entered my thigh. I had to get it cleaned and treated.”

He blinked. “You were what?”

“Pushed by her,” I repeated, pointing finger to Marla and shooting a glance at her. “And she laughed. She didn’t even try to help.”

“I barely touched her!” Marla suddenly wailed dramatically, turning on the waterworks as fast as a broken faucet. “I just nudged her a little and she fell like she wanted to frame me! I didn’t even know she got hurt, I swear!”

I opened my mouth in disbelief. “You’re lying! You laughed…

My father’s hand came flying before I could even finish.

SLAP!

The sound echoed across the room. My head snapped to the side, and a stinging heat bloomed across my cheek.

“You dare accuse her? You little ungrateful witch! After everything I’ve done for you?!”

Done for me?

The urge to scream was swallowed by fear.

His chest heaved as he pointed toward the hallway. “Since you’re now the victim in this house, I’ll give you something to cry about. You like accusing people? Let me show you what your actions cause.”

“No…please…” I backed away as he grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the old storeroom at the far end of the house.

My blood turned cold.

Not there.

Anywhere but there.

“Please….Dad, no…please I’m sorry!” I cried out, my voice rising in desperation. “Not that room….please!”

He threw open the door. Darkness spilled out like smoke, thick and suffocating. My chest tightened immediately.

“I have Nyctophobia for Christ sake, Dad!” I screamed.

But he didn’t even blink.

“No windows. No lights. Just the rats to keep you company,” he growled.

He shoved me inside with force.

I hit the hard floor, landing hard on my side. The impact jarred my wound, and a fresh burst of pain shot up my leg.

Before I could move, the door slammed shut.

Click.

The lock turned.

I was trapped.

The room was cold. Damp. Smelled of rot and mold. I couldn’t see my own fingers, let alone the corners of the room.

I whimpered, crawling slowly to the door, gasping already as panic clawed up my throat. The darkness felt like it had weight, like it was pressing on my chest, crushing me.

My breath became shallow.

I scratched at the door. “Please… let me out… please…”

But no footsteps came.

Just silence.

Hot tears poured down my cheeks. I was shaking now. Not from cold but from the terror that always gripped me in small, dark places.

I couldn’t handle it. I can’t.

“I’m sorry, Dad…please…” I choked out, banging weakly.

Still nothing.

My hands slipped from the blood oozing down my thigh. I could feel it soaking into the floor. My breathing got worse, short gasps, shallow and loud.

My chest was tight. My head spun.

The darkness felt endless.

I curled into myself, trying to breathe, trying not to scream. But all I could think was_

*This is where I’ll die.*

Not with love. Not with comfort. But in the dark, in pain, with no one even caring.

And with that final thought… everything slowly faded.

And silence took me.