Fated To Three, Betrayed By All… Until She Rose novel Chapter 39

**Healing Slowly But Surely**
By R. Joseph

The passage of time felt surreal, as if the universe itself had decided to fast-forward our lives, making each day blur into the next at an alarming rate. It was hard to believe that this was already the last day of the workweek. As I stepped out of the elevator and made my way toward the parking lot, an unexpected sight stopped me in my tracks. Leaning casually against my car was a figure I had hoped to avoid.

At first, I felt a wave of indifference wash over me, but that quickly dissipated when the person turned to face me. My heart sank, plummeting into the pit of my stomach as recognition dawned.

Beta Malakai Blackthorne.

Or, as I grimly reminded myself, my father.

The sight of him triggered a visceral reaction within me. Nausea bubbled up, and a surge of panic coursed through my veins like ice water. I was taken aback by how much dread I still felt in his presence, a feeling that had lingered far too long.

Memories flooded back, uninvited yet vivid. I recalled the merciless beatings I endured as a child for the most trivial of reasons—sometimes for the mere act of existing, for ‘hurting’ Chalice, or for daring to look different from the rest of them. The most traumatic moment etched in my mind was when he had slammed my head against the unforgiving concrete, all because he deemed my dress too shabby, despite never providing the means for me to change it.

A shiver ran down my spine at the recollection, but I steeled myself. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, forcing myself to meet his gaze, though I could feel the tremor of uncertainty threatening to break my resolve. “What are you doing by my car?” I asked, my voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil swirling inside me.

There were no pleasantries exchanged; no smiles, just an icy distance that I had become all too familiar with. The kind of coldness that sent shivers down my spine, making me want to retreat.

He tilted his head slightly, as if weighing whether to acknowledge my presence. Then, unexpectedly, he flashed a smile—or was it a snarl? I couldn’t quite decipher. “So this is your car, Leilani?” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension. I chose silence, my gaze unwavering, keeping the distance between us as vast as the empty parking lot around us.

“How did you manage to afford it? We both know you lack any skills or talents. Even the most basic trait of having a wolf… you don’t possess that, so how could you possibly afford an Audi?”

His words cut deeper than I anticipated, slicing through the protective armor I had built around myself. The sting was sharper than I had expected, and I felt my hands clench into fists, fighting against the urge to let my emotions spill over.

“Are you finished?” I managed to say, my voice calm yet laced with an undercurrent of defiance.

For a moment, he froze, surprise flickering in his eyes before he looked away, scoffing. When he raised his gaze again, I caught the faintest hint of embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks, a sign that he couldn’t quite meet my eyes anymore.

“You left home and started sleeping around, didn’t you?” he accused suddenly, shocking me into silence. The rage that followed was almost instantaneous. How dare he? I gritted my teeth, feeling the heat of anger rise within me.

“You’re a whore. I used to hate you for being weak, but now I despise you more for tarnishing our family’s name. I loathe you for being a slut. Why couldn’t you be as refined as Chalice?”

Wow.

The venom in his words made my fists clench tighter, as if I feared my bones might crack under the pressure. But I refused to cry out; I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Instead, I forced a smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t worry about your pathetic family name. I’ve ensured its protection by not using it at all,” I replied, crossing my arms defiantly. “So tell me, Mr. Blackthorne, why are you here? I’m certain you didn’t drive all this way just to remind me how insecure you feel when you look at me.”

His face went pale, a vivid flush spreading across his features. “You—!” he began, but I cut him off.

“I’ll take that as a sign you have nothing left to say. Now, would you kindly step away from my car? I have a desire to go home.”

I watched as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, like a fish out of water, the discomfort radiating off him was palpable.

“Chalice applied for a job here a few days ago!” he spat, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if they burned his throat on the way out.

Raising an eyebrow, I replied, “I heard.”

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