Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 238

238 Deserve To Know.

238 Deserve To Know.

For a while, neither of us said a word.

And then darkness.

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“She slit their mother’s throat, Olivia. And their father… never spoke again after that night.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even look my way.

My voice came out hoarse. “You know, don’t you?”

My photos–everywhere.

My heart skipped. “What about her?”

“What you did at the table,” he said sternly, “should never happen again.”

Lennox, Louis, and Levi. All dressed in ceremonial white. All standing still, like statues carved from grief.

The ceremony had stopped. Murmurs filled the air. Somewhere in the blur, I heard Damien’s voice before I even saw him.

How much longer can I pretend to be someone else–someone I’m not?

I swayed slightly on my feet.

I returned to my room, closed the door behind me, and let out a long, shaky breath.

face. Dropping onto the bed, I pressed my palms to my

Damien let out an exasperated sigh, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. “Relax, Darling,” he said, faking a concern that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked over his shoulder at someone I couldn’t see. “She’ll be fine. She always does this. Ever since she lost her parents, funerals make her faint… It’s a thing–she can’t handle it emotionally.”

“I deserve to know,” I pressed, louder this time. “I saw the hate in their eyes. I felt it. That kind of rage isn’t born out of nothing.”

I flinched when he slid an arm under my knees and the other behind my back. His grip

238 Deserve To Know.

was strong, almost gentle, but there was no warmth in it. He lifted me like I weighed nothing–like he’d done it a hundred times before.

I stood there frozen.

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. I just stared past him at the wall.

A tense silence hung in the air as neither of us said a word. The air in the room was heavy–almost too heavy to breathe in. I could feel Damien’s presence just across the room, sitting on the couch with that familiar stiffness in his posture, like he was calculating his next move.

And there… just a few feet away, I saw them.

The moment Lennox took the handkerchief from me, I–spun around and walked away before I did something reckless. Luckily, he didn’t call me back. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if he had.

The pack was gathered–dressed in white, heads bowed, lips trembling. Some were crying. Real, heavy tears.

I woke up to a dull ache in my head and the cold feel of stone beneath my palms. My lashes fluttered as I tried to move, only to realize I was lying on the ground–on the floor of the garden.

Louis stood with his arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched like he was trying to hold himself together.

My head snapped toward him. “Hell no,” I snapped, my voice sharp. “You expect me to stand there and watch while they perform a funeral service for me when I’m still alive?”

My head lolled against his chest as he turned away from the garden, the funeral chants fading behind us.

He left before I could say another word.

But I couldn’t join them.

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