Fated To Three, Betrayed By All… Until She Rose novel Chapter 60

**Healing Slowly But Surely**

By R. Joseph

**My Villain Arc.**

Leilani.

It’s a curious observation, really, one that has lingered in my mind like a haunting refrain: every villain’s tale shares a common thread. They are invariably pushed to their breaking point, time and again, until the dam of their restraint bursts.

Consider the tragic narrative of Wanda, who had her entire world stripped away, leaving her with nothing but despair.

Or take Maleficent, who suffered the ultimate betrayal when the only man she ever loved severed her wings, a brutal act that transformed her life forever.

Then there’s Medusa, the embodiment of mythic tragedy, who endured unspeakable horrors and was cursed to carry the weight of her suffering in her very being.

And let’s not forget the Joker, a figure of chaos and pain.

And here I am, caught in the throes of my own villain arc. I still vividly remember the moment my brother, Gavin, struck me in the sauna—a public space, no less—over an accusation that was entirely unfounded.

But what truly exacerbated this already horrific situation?

The fact that I was left there, abandoned to my fate. To rot. To die. After I lost consciousness, I awoke two hours later, half-clothed and disoriented, still sprawled on the floor of that suffocating sauna. Blood trickled from my mouth and nose, remnants of Gavin’s violent blow, while the steam enveloped me like the ghosts of my past, swirling and taunting.

No one came to my aid. No one even bothered to check if I was alive. And, deep down, I had expected nothing less.

In that moment, I understood: this was the genesis of my villain arc. The realization struck me like a thunderbolt—everyone who had wronged me would pay dearly for their indifference.

With trembling hands, I reached for my phone and dialed Jarek’s number. The moment he picked up, worry laced his voice. “What happened? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!”

I quickly recounted the events, my words tumbling out in a rush. Silence enveloped us for a heartbeat, and then he commanded, “Wait there for me. Don’t move an inch.”

I complied, not out of obedience, but because I was utterly drained, my strength evaporated like mist in the morning sun.

Minutes later, the door burst open, and Jarek stormed in, a large coat in hand. He draped it around my shoulders, providing a sliver of warmth and modesty. His face was a mask of fury, and as he leaned closer to inspect my injuries, I could see the barely contained rage simmering beneath the surface—an intensity I had never witnessed in him before.

“Gavin Blackthorne did this to you?!” he growled, his nostrils flaring as if the very act of seeing me in pain was a physical assault on him.

For reasons I couldn’t quite articulate, a smile crept onto my lips. Not because I took pleasure in my suffering—far from it—but because he referred to Gavin not as ‘your brother’ but as ‘Gavin Blackthorne.’ In that moment, I was reminded of one of the many reasons I cherished Jarek.

“Talk to me, Sweetcakes, please…” His voice softened, and he cradled my face in his hands. I flinched at the contact, but as the reality of his presence settled in, I exhaled, comforted by the knowledge that this was Jarek.

He would never hurt me.

“He did this,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh God, I’m going to kill him!” he roared, rising to his feet, a storm brewing within him. But before he could stride out, I grasped his leg, halting him in his tracks.

“What?!” he barked, confusion etched across his features. “You want to let him go easily after hurting you like this?”

Never.

“No,” I replied, my voice trembling. “I recorded the entire incident. I caught everything Chalice said to me… about how there was never a baby to begin with… about how she plans to harm herself to ruin me.”

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