Chapter 6 News that I had reduced Isabella to tears yet again quickly reached Benjamin.
My dear older brother—who hadn’t bothered to show his face once during the days I’d spent fighting for my life—rushed to my hospital bed in record time.
"Oh? Has the great Benjamin Sinclair finally come to collect his little Emily’s corpse? Should I say you’re too early… or too late?"
Benjamin frowned. "Emily, even now, you still refuse to admit your mistakes?"
The way he looked at me—like I was some unruly child throwing a tantrum—made my stomach churn.
My voice turned icy. "So it was you. You’re the one who told me to kneel and apologize to Isabella."
His brow arched slightly.
Rage burned in my chest. "Benjamin, you wanted me to kneel to that bitch who killed our mother and smashed her ashes on purpose? You’re something else. How the hell do you face Mom’s spirit after this?"
CRACK.
The slap landed with full force.
Already weakened, my body reeled from the blow, my vision swimming with concussion sparks.
Through the haze, I saw Nathaniel’s hand twitch—as if to intervene—before he clenched it back at his side, choosing instead to watch coldly from the sidelines.
A bitter laugh rose in my throat. This was the man I picked up off the streets. The bodyguard I paid for three years…
My lips curled. A drop of crimson bloomed across the sterile white sheets, the metallic tang of blood flooding my mouth.
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