Valentina's POV
Loud horns blared, angry curses and screams echoed around me. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my heart pounding in my chest as tears blurred my vision, distorting everything. But I kept driving, weaving through the cars on the road, barely aware of anything but the thoughts in my head—the thoughts that threatened to consume me.
My phone buzzed beside me for the fifth time. I glanced at the name on the screen but ignored it again, turning my attention back to the road ahead of me as I increased the speed of the car.
Why was I even alive? Why was I still here when I had lost everything and was going to die soon anyway? Why couldn't I just end it all now?
"Let's end it now, Valentina. Let's end everything," I muttered to myself as I drove. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, broken sobs escaping my lips as my mind replayed everything that had happened when I arrived at my father's house.
An hour ago.
"D-dad, what are you saying?" I whispered, my voice shaking. "Are you blaming me too? Are you blaming me for the miscarriage and for Damien cheating on me? Am I not your daughter? My husband wants to divorce me after five years of marriage and marry another woman, and that's my fault?"
My father's eyes turned colder at my words, and he straightened in his seat, staring at me with a murderous intent that made me flinch. No one dared speak to him like that and live to see another day, but I was desperate. I needed his help, and I knew that with my father's power, if he spoke to Damien, he would have no choice but to reconsider the divorce.
"Are you listening to yourself, Valentina? This is why you've always been a problem," he spat, his eyes remaining cold. "You don't use your brain to think. Do you think the world is some fairytale? Do you think the world is kind, and that everything can be solved with just a wave of a hand?"
"W-what?" I asked, taken aback as I stared at him in shock.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "When your husband's mistress came into the picture, do you know what I expected you to do? I expected you to eliminate the threat the moment it appeared. When you lost your child, shouldn't you have gotten your revenge against the mistress who caused it? But you let all that slide despite my warnings, and here you are to complain and beg for help."
I sucked in a breath at his words. I could still remember when he came to the hospital—the first thing he said the moment he saw me lying there and crying about the loss of my child.
"You told me to have her killed. How could you expect me to take someone's life?!" I yelled, and my father sneered at me, his eyes filled with contempt.
"Idiot! You really are an idiot! You don't use your brain. Look at where you are now because of your inability to take action when it mattered!"
"Father—"
"Do not call me that!" he hissed, slamming his hand on the table. "Do not forget that you are an illegitimate child. I gave you a roof over your head after the death of your mother and provided you with everything, and yet you still let me down. I will not be helping you. Leave this instant, and never show me this disrespect again."
"Please, I can't live without Damien. I need him," I pleaded.
"You're such a fool," he said coldly. "Always acting so innocent, always trusting others. Do you know that on the night you had your miscarriage, your husband was with the same mistress? He spent the entire night with her."
I staggered, staring in disbelief. Damien was with her? He wasn't with me, but with… Caelina.
That's impossible. He was there—he had to be. But I couldn't remember anything at all. That day, everything felt fuzzy, and I was in and out of consciousness. But the next morning, Damien wasn't by my side.
"That's impossible." Another wave of tears crashed over me as I fell to my knees, unable to hold myself up any longer. I didn't want to believe his words. I wanted to cling to my delusions, but I couldn't—there was this gnawing feeling inside me, tearing me apart.
And at the moment, reality dawned on me, and I realized that the very person I loved more than anything had betrayed me, and now I had no one—not even my family.
Another buzz from the phone jolted me out of my thoughts. This time, I stared at the screen for a moment before picking it up.
"Why weren't you answering your phone? I called you five times, Valentina!" Damien's angry voice exploded on the other end of the line, but my eyes were cold this time as I waited for him to speak.
"Where are you? Come home this instant! Who do you think you are to sue me?" he sneered suddenly. "How dare you try to sue me for infidelity!"
"Why can't I? Why can't I sue you for infidelity, Damien, when you, in fact, cheated on me?" I replied, my voice calm—too calm, it seemed, as it made him pause on the other end of the line.
"I am suing you for infidelity and all the emotional damage you've put me through during our marriage. And oh, I'm also suing your pregnant mistress for pushing me down the stairs a year ago for attempted murder. I'm sure there were at least one or two witnesses who saw her do it."
"Are you crazy? Are you aware that no one is by your side and you want to sue me in court? Come home this instant, Valentina, we need to talk!" He yelled, and I laughed, stepping on the accelerator.
"Home? I've never had a home, Damien. I'll be seeing you in court, and I'll make sure you pay for everything you and that snake did to me, even if it's the last thing I do before I die!"
"Die? What are you talking—"
As soon as Damien spoke those words, my eyes widened as my gaze shifted to the sight before me. A small child stood in front of a truck at the intersection, his face filled with fear as he stood frozen, watching the approaching truck bearing down on him without having the intention to stop or slow down.
The truck would hit him if I didn't do something. If I didn't act now, the child was going to die.
"Valentina, are you there?! Don't fucking ignore me!" Damien screamed, but I had closed my eyes, my body shaking, and before my brain could even process it, my hands had already jerked the steering wheel in the opposite direction, heading straight toward the oncoming truck. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to move, that it wasn't my business if someone else died, and that I didn't want to die—not before a year had ended.
But I couldn't move.
I couldn't.
I stopped, and as the truck came barreling toward me, I turned my gaze elsewhere, unable to witness the bloody scene that was about to unfold. And as I did, my eyes locked onto the child, who stared right back at me, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"It's going to be okay," I mouthed the words silently, a smile on my lips as a powerful, deafening force collided with me.
And then, everything went dark.