Elena’s laughter erupted, sharp and mocking, the sound echoing in the room. Ashley froze, her phone still clutched in her hand. Just seconds ago, Elena had been sobbing uncontrollably. The abrupt shift felt surreal.
“What… what’s so funny?” Ashley asked, taking an instinctive step back as Elena closed the gap between them.
Elena’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “You really don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “You think you have some kind of power here? That you can just walk away?”
Ashley’s brows furrowed. “I’m not playing your games anymore, Elena.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you were never playing,” Elena sneered, taking another step closer. Then, without warning, she lifted her hand and slapped Ashley across the face.
Ashley staggered, her cheek burning, her eyes wide with shock. “What the—”
“You think you can have Demitri? My Demitri?” Elena spat, her voice rising. “Let me make something very clear to you: all of this—everything you see—belongs to me. And so do you. YOU BELONG TO ME!.”
Ashley blinked, struggling to process the words. “What are you talking about?”
“I own you,” Elena hissed. “I made Demitri marry you. You really think he chose you? Please. If I hadn’t told him to go through with it, do you think he would’ve looked twice at you?”
Ashley’s heart sank. “You… you made him marry me?”
Elena’s smile widened. “Of course I did. His parents wouldn’t accept me, and without their approval, Demitri had no chance at inheriting anything. But no heir? No legacy? That wasn’t an option. So, I came up with a brilliant idea—you.”
Ashley felt the room spin as Elena’s words sank in.
“You’re just a convenient tool,” Elena continued, her tone ice-cold. “Your eggs? They’re sacrifices you’re making for me to keep my man. And don’t fool yourself into thinking they’ll ever amount to anything. Nothing will come of them unless I want it to.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “So, until I say otherwise, you’ll do as I tell you. Or else.”
Ashley’s stomach churned, her hands curling into fists. But instead of fear, something else surged within her—rage.
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