Celina's footsteps were heavy and hurried, almost running. She gasped continuously, panting as she rushed through the rain.
Her hair was soaked from running all the way there. The cold seeped slowly through her bones, and her clothes clung to her body. She paid no attention to the wetness or the chill.
All her mind could focus on was her father, who lay inside the hospital fighting for his life.
The down-part of her heels clicked against the marble tiles as she hurried toward the entrance of the hospital.
The moment she stepped inside, Celina gasped at the sudden warmth that greeted her. It refreshed her chilled body, but she didn't stop. She immediately hurried toward her father's ward.
Droplets fell from her clothes with every step, leaving tiny puddles behind her—a clear sign of how thoroughly drenched she was.
She had never felt panic like this before.
Celina drew the attention of several people and hospital staff as she rushed through the hallway. Nurses moved in every direction, some of them hurrying from one ward to another.
Her wet clothes clung to her perfectly chubby body, and a few people stared as she passed.
Everything grew more silent as she passed a group of men standing nearby, probably family members of patients because they were dressed in mufti. Their gazes lingered on her as if assessing her.
Some even whistled in pure awe of her beauty and caught off guard by her curves.
Her silky white Luna crop top hugged her chest, outlining its fullness and roundness. Her long white stretchy skirt matched her top, with slits on both sides of the skirt from the upper part of her knees down to her feet, completing the look.
The skirt was slightly revealing. It tightened around her hips, accentuating her curvy, chubby body.
As she hurried along, it exposed a large expanse of her legs, drawing every eye.
The bold color of her outfit accentuated her glowing, sun-kissed skin, and the fabric shimmered under the white lights, catching every reflection of her as she glided toward the steps.
Celina sighed in embarrassment. It was so obvious that she was the center of attraction.
Well, she had always been the center of attention because of her shape.
She was... big. Knew people noticed, some stared.. what's that word again? Openly. Shamelessly.
Something she shied away from flaunting but had to accept. Her body. Her nature.
Still, she wished she could disappear beneath the floor whenever people stared too long.
Had never enjoyed being stared at. More like, she had simply grown used to it.
She had forgotten to wear a coat because the moment she heard that her father had fallen into a coma and been rushed to the hospital, it had destabilized her completely.
She had acted without thinking. She hadn't even remembered the rain.
All she had known was that she needed to get to him.
But Celina couldn't care less about people's attention on her. After all, it was something she was used to.
All her focus was on him. Her father's life was at stake and that was all that mattered.
Her fear tightened around her heart as she reached the final turn leading to the VIP lounge where her father had been admitted.
The sound of her heels echoed through the hallway.
Then she entered the exact hall where his room was located.
And immediately, she locked eyes with the disdainful gaze of Mrs. Andrea Saunders, her stepmother.
Mrs. Andrea was tall and slender, adorned with expensive jewelry. She was dressed to the nines, her red nails glinting under the harsh hospital lights and her hair perfectly styled, as though a professional had attended to it every time she stepped outside.
She looked Celina up and down, her gaze filled with disdain. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the 'caring' daughter." Her voice was filled with mockery.
She was known for her luxurious lifestyle and ill-natured attitude.
"What are you doing here, Celina? Come to play the role of the doting daughter now that you heard your father is sick?"
"Mother..."
Celina hadn't even finished speaking, tears already brimming in her eyes before Andrea cut her off.
"Hush, little one. I thought we had a deal." Mrs Andrea laughed sarcastically. "Who would have believed you would come running the moment you heard your father had a 'little illness'?"
She emphasized the last word, little, with a mocking gesture of her fingers.
Mrs ndrea laughed sarcastically, Diana Saunders, Celina's stepsister, joined her.
Diana was slender and stylish, dressed elegantly in an outfit that looked every bit as expensive as her mother's. Although beautiful, she was constantly irritated by the fact that Celina seemed to attract attention without even trying.
Alexa, Diana's sister stood beside her, equally dressed like her and was watching Celina with the same dislike in her eyes.
"Where did you think you were going, you dumb fool?" Diana hissed, rolling her eyes in disgust.
The moment their eyes met, a brief flicker showed in Diana's eyes, as though she felt a chill run through her.
"Mom! I hate her!" Diana complained angrily.
"I hate that she's prettier than me."
She pointed at her. "Look at those eyes, Mom. It's like she would kill me if she got the chance."
"Have patience, sweetie," Andrea reassured her daughter."She'll be out of our lives for the time being."
"Mom, please." Celina's voice trembled as she pleaded, almost dropping to her knees.
"My dad... Your husband is in a critical condition."
Her voice cracked. "I swear on my life that I won't set foot anywhere around you if you let me see him just one more time."
She clasped her hands together. "I beg of you."
"Don't call me Mom!" Mrs Andrea's voice echoed through the hallway.
"I'm not your mother, you dumb idiot. If you still have a little sanity left in you, then go find her in the grave."
Celina flinched, but she remained unrelenting. Instead, she reached for the hem of Andrea's lace sleeve. "Please..."
"Get your filthy hands off me!" Mrs Andrea screamed, jerked her hand violently, almost ripping the material from Celina's trembling fingers.
But Celina's hold on it was firm. "You trash!"
"Please. Dad is in critical condition. I can't leave him like this. I'm scared he might die."
"He won't die." Mrs Andrea's expression remained cold. And continued. "I'm not so heartless. He's in a coma, and according to the doctor, he has a hundred percent chance of surviving."
She laughed before ripping her sleeve from Celina's grasp.
"Let go already, dumb girl. Only God knows if a miracle might happen if I let you see him."
Celina's eyes widened, obviously in shock at her words.
Her heart was confounded with fear. Oh God, please let nothing happen to him...let nothing happen to my dad.
She repeated those words in her heart. "Please don't harm him," she cried.
She couldn't bear the thought of losing him.
The thought of not being able to tell him how much she loved him, like she always did—with a kiss on his cheek, after which he'd playfully pinch her cheek, his eyes glowing with love for her.
No. Nothing would happen to him. Never!!
Mrs Andrea smiled. Not the sweet one, but the one
that carried hidden intentions—intentions that were far from pure.
"You dumb fool. I can't afford to harm my husband. After all, he doesn't know what I'm capable of."
She grinned mischievously. "He hasn't even written his will yet... or has he? I just haven't managed to get my hands on it."
A slow, sinister laugh escaped her lips.
"We had a deal. Leave now, and when he's okay and our deal has been accomplished, you can come back. Else..."
She laughed darkly. "You already know what would happen, right?"
Then she winked, her eyes fluttering afterward.
Mrs. Andrea Saunders turned her back to Celina, grinning from ear to ear. She covered her mouth with her fingers, but it did little to muffle her laughter.
She was obviously enjoying Celina's desperation.
Then she slowly turned back, and that joy disappeared from her face.
Her gaze fell on Celina's clothing, and disgust flashed across her expression.
She moved stealthily toward Celina and suddenly grabbed her, forcing her cold, shaking figure to her knees on the bare floor.
The cold floor seeped through Celina's clothes as tears stung her eyes, but she was helpless.
She couldn't fight. A helpless butterfly that had to agree to their demands.
Whether she saw her father or not depended entirely on her stepmother.
She had to submit to her authority.
Otherwise, with the flick of a finger, her stepmom, Mrs. Andrea Saunders, could have her thrown out, and she would never get to see her father.
The thought of leaving without holding his warm hands one more time broke something inside her.
Without clinging to him. Without smelling his familiar, clean scent.
The thought made her emotions run wild, sadness and anger crashing into each other as an overwhelming urge to protect him consumed her.
To sacrifice anything to see him once again.
She was pulled from her thoughts when her stepmom grabbed the top of her outfit, squeezing the fabric fiercely like it was a curse.
Something not to be treated with care.
Celina almost shrieked, but she swallowed the sound.
"You think I don't know you?" Mrs Andrea sneered.
"You go around acting like you're some untouched saint. You fake that good demeanor and pretend to be the nicest girl."
She paused, allowing her words to sink in while watching Celina's blank face, devoid of emotions.
Yet, she continued. Her stepmom's expression hardened. "But you know what you really are?"
She leaned closer, their faces only inches apart.
"You're a prostitute."
Celina's eyes filled with unshed tears.
"You have a disgusting, shapeless, chubby body, yet you don't mind displaying it shamelessly."
A tear slid from Celina's eyelid and rolled down her cheek.
Andrea saw it and reveled in the knowledge that she had hurt her.
But that wasn't enough. She wanted Celina broken.
She wanted her to lose control and rant in anger so she could use that moment to deny her the one thing she desperately wanted—to see her father.
Because whether Celina lost her temper or remained calm, Mrs Andrea had already made up her mind.
She would not let her see him.
Something might happen and if Celina saw him, then... BOOM. All of her plans could fall apart.
She would never allow that. Never!!
Mrs Andrea grabbed the other edge of Celina's clothing and squeezed it, her eyes a spitting image of rage.
"You know how clothes cling to your body, yet you still wear them. Shamelessly flaunting your shapeless figure."
Her voice rose. "Do you know what you are?"
She screamed directly into Celina's face, her spit landing on Celina's forehead.
"Just a slut!"
Celina's body stiffened, yet her stepmom's voice rang out.
"That's what you are. A whore. Nothing but a slut and a whore!"
Andrea, her stepmom, continued hurling insult after insult.
Celina's heart clenched. It felt as though her emotions were breaking into tiny pieces inside her.
Like her heart almost wanted to be ripped out, yet it was adamant not to.
Her stepmother never missed an opportunity to remind her that her body was shapeless, ugly, and too chubby.
It hurt.
It always hurt. But Celina refused to completely surrender to the pain in her heart.
Her emotions were all over the place, her heart resurfacing the same wounds..The same pain, her stepmom had inflicted with every cruel word.
She had noticed the jealousy before.
Her stepmother and stepsisters would sometimes stare at her in matching outfits, their expressions filled with admiration for a brief moment when she walked in.
Then, the admiration would disappear, replaced almost instantly by venom.
Celina's emotions were overflowing now.
It was as though the remaining curses of her stepmother had faded into the background. She couldn't hear them anymore.
Because everything she had tried to hold back...
Rage.
Pain.
Humiliation...was loosening with each passing moment.
Then she heard the words that finally broke through every wall she had built.
"A slut, just like your mother." Celina froze.
Mrs Andrea's voice became colder.
"No wonder God decided to do her a favor and take her life the moment she took her last breath."
Her stepmother's words ended in one final blow, and she panted heavily.
Alexa and Diana froze. The last words from their mother struck them both like a blow.
For a fleeting moment, shock crossed their faces, and almost too quickly, it vanished beneath their practiced composure.
Celina's expression changed, unbridled rage filled her eyes.
She straightened her knees and slowly rose to her feet as tears rolled down her cheeks, hurt visible in her expression.
Her face was twisted with pain, but beneath the pain was something far more dangerous--a fury she had never allow herself to show them before.
Her body trembled with deep-rooted pain.
"Don't..."
Her voice shook, hiccupping between each word.
"Ever..."
She took a breath, pain filling her voice and her thoroughly abused heart. "Ever... ever..."
Her eyes locked onto her stepmother.
Her posture was unstable, but there was something in her eyes that made her words feel like a promise.
"Don't you ever, in your life, call my mother a slut or disrespect her or disregard her reputation in any way."
Her voice became firmer with authority. "Or else..."
A dry, bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You would know exactly what I'm capable of."
She finished, pointing directly at Mrs. Andrea Saunders's face.
The warning in her eyes was unmistakable. It was not something that should be trifled with or taken lightly.
That wasn't the timid Celina they knew. For once, she wasn't backing down.
Mrs. Andrea Saunders didn't even realize she had taken a step backward until she felt her heel shift against the floor.
Her eyebrows were breaking out in sweat, while Alexa and Diana felt goosebumps rise on their skin as they watched Celina's reddened eyes and rage-filled expression.
Their mother had touched the one subject Celina would never tolerate.
She had treaded on grounds she shouldn't have and it was crystal clear that her words were not a joke.
Something that could drive a docile Celina—someone who did all she could to avoid their comments and harsh words—to finally snap.
This was the first time her mother had been insulted right in her face.
Like a slap on the cheek. Even their mother was taken aback by her words.
Mrs. Andrea Saunders was shocked. She hadn't expected her words to affect Celina so deeply.
The way Celina's blazing gaze felt on her skin made the threat feel real.
For a moment, her stepmom felt a chill run down her spine.
Then, she remembered that her husband was in her hands and Celina knew it too well.
And in a flicker of minutes, Mrs. Andrea Saunders quickly regained her composure.
Alexa had also been taken aback. She had always known how sensitive Celina was when it came to her mother.
Even the tiniest mention of her mother was enough to affect her.
Celina held her mom so dear to her heart but that wasn't the only thing that angered Alexa.
Celina seemed to capture attention wherever she went. She was too beautiful in anything she wore.
People noticed her. People complimented her in ways that fueled Alexa's anger.
She had an exuberance and warmth that drew people toward her. It irritated Alexa, who saw it as a fake demeanor Celina was exhibiting.
To Alexa, it was unbearable.
Whenever Celina entered a room, Alexa felt as though she disappeared into the background.
She hated it. She saw everything Celina did as fake.
Mrs. Andrea Saunders laughed mockingly. "Capable?"
Her expression changed. "I'm sure I misheard you."
She tilted her head. "Or did you just tell me what you're capable of?"
Her eyes seemed to spit fire."You forgot your place, ragazza (girl)" The Italian word rolled from her tongue with deliberate contempt.
Her lips curled. "Are you kidding me right now?"
Andrea's voice dropped. "Chi ti credi di essere?(Who do you think you are?)"
Celina face remained expressionless. But her stepmom stepped closer. "You're a Una nessuno. (A nobody.) in this family, Celina." The Italian word rolled off her mouth with ease.
Mrs. Andrea Saunders, though married to a Greek man—the father of Celina and her daughters—had Italian roots from birth. She had always been more fluent in Italian than Greek, and the language came naturally to her.
Celina and her stepsisters had grown up in Greece, but learning Italian had always been part of their family tradition. They spoke Greek in their everyday lives, yet Italian was familiar enough that none of them needed their mothers/ stepmother to translate when she spoke it.
Italian curses only left Mrs Andrea's lips in deep rage and there's one person burnt by that wrath.
CELINA!!
And now, in Celina's despair, every Italian word that left Andrea's lips carried its full weight.
Celina understood every curse. Every insult. Every word dripping with contempt.
There was no language barrier to soften Andrea's cruelty, only the painful certainty that Celina understood every single word.
Her eyes narrowed. "You have no power here. No place. No authority."
She gave a cold smile. "And yet you stand before me making threats?"
Celina swallowed her pain.
Her distress.
She knew she had made a mistake standing up to her stepmom at a crucial time like this, knowing that her father's life—more like their life—was at stake.
But she couldn't bear what her stepmom had said about her mother.
Her own mother.
It had ripped her heart apart.
It was like a cage of fury had been unleashed, and for a moment, she didn't know what she was saying or what her actions were anymore.
She hated anyone disrespecting her mother, and it had made her furious.
So furious that her blood still thumped in her veins.
Tears continued to slide down her cheeks as she thought about her father.
What if her stepmom used her threat against him?
Might was an understatement. Celina knew exactly how heartless her stepmother could be.
Mrs. Andrea was currently using her father to force Celina to do her bidding but Celina had no choice.
She just had to endure it. She had to see her father.
Otherwise, she could end up being thrown out and humiliated more than ever.
"Don't you dare talk about capability," Mrs. Andrea thundered, her voice filled with authority and spite.
Then she smiled as though she had just remembered something pleasant. "You forgot for a moment that my husband's life is still in my hands."
Mrs. Andrea pressed her painted fingers against Celina's jaw, holding her face in place.
Then she laughed. "Oh, little one. You make me feel bad that I treat you this way..."
Her voice suddenly became soft. " It's okay. Okay?"
Her gaze fell on Celina's clothes. "This outfit makes me angry."
She smiled bitterly, her face pensive as she narrated. " I remember how my husband bought matching sets for a dirty thing like you and for my lovely girls."
Her expression hardened. "But somehow, they always seemed to suit you the most."
"It made my daughters feel insignificant."
She leaned closer, puffing her breath onto Celina's face. "And it made me angry."
"Do you know why?" She held Celina roughly, squeezing the fabric of her top.
"Answer me, bitch!" She yelled so loudly that Celina flinched.
Mrs Andrea gave her a sharp nudge. All her anger was burning through her.
Then, another nudge. Another painful reminder of how just powerless she felt in that moment.
Her stepmother's painted, long fingers marked Celina's soft skin, piercing into her flesh.
The force shook Celina's posture slightly as she stood close to her stepmother's furious gaze.
The pain was too much.
Just too much to hold on to.
She felt her breath giving way, slowly and then quickly, a mixture of both, as though she were struggling to remain conscious.
But her next words surprised even Mrs Andrea as she fought to keep herself upright.
"Yesss." The word came out weakly.
Tears stung Celina's eyes as she looked hopeless, dejected, and disregarded.
She had to do anything to see her precious father, even if it meant enduring insults and feeling her heart lurch in pain.
"BECAUSE you're shapeless and disgusting!"
Andrea's voice rose. "Because you're chubby!"
Her eyes travelled over Celina. "These clothes make you look ridiculous and seriously out of place."
She kept eye contact with Celina's blurry, tear-filled eyes. "You deserve to dine with the gutters and wear rags fit for your position."
Her lips curled. "Not clothes like these."
She paused. "Not in this family!"
Her voice dropped into a cold whisper. "Never in this family. Don't forget it. You're never one of us".
Tears flowed freely from Celina's eyes, the words struck harder than the insults before then.
Mrs. Andrea wiped them away with her fingers.
Then her voice changed.
"Diana, don't you think it would be best if we did a little finishing touch on this dress?"
Andrea grinned, gazing sweetly at her daughter.
"It isn't really to my taste."
Diana smiled. A smile that didn't reach her eyes but was enough to pour venom.
She picked up the bottle of wine, uncorked it, and slowly poured it into a glass until it filled to the brim.
"I guess so, Momma."
She swirled the glass slowly beneath her fingertips, as though thinking of what to do with it, even though she had known from the moment she opened the bottle.
"I could do a thing or two."
The three women smiled wickedly.
"If you could beg more convincingly, I might allow you to see your father for even a minute." Mrs. Andrea said, almost teasingly.
"Or maybe thirty seconds, depending on how well you plead."
She tilted her head. "Don't you trust me, darling?"
"I love your dress, Celina," Diana added.
"I forgot to mention that."
She smiled, that same devilish smile that never reached her eyes. "It's prettier than mine."
She glanced down at the glass in her hand. "Funny how Dad bought us matching outfits, yet yours always seem to look the best."
Diana took a few sips of wine. Her smile remained, but if one observed her closely, her tone was sarcastic as as always, and anger sparkled in her eyes.
Celina wanted to argue.
She wanted to tell her that all the dresses were beautiful and that none was better than the other.
Fine!
Even when hers looked particularly enchanting, she always made sure her father bought something beautiful for her stepsisters too.
Like a compensation.
But they didn't care. They believed she had somehow bewitched their father into doing more for her than for them.
Even though it was obvious that he always tried to please all of them.
Celina's heart broke again as her mind flashed back to hearing that her father was lying in a bed. In a coma.
He didn't deserve this. She needed to stay on her stepmom's good side as much as possible. Maybe then she would let her hold her father one more time.
With a heavy heart, Celina pleaded. "I know. I trust you." Her voice cracked with sadness beneath it. "I just want to hold him."
She swallowed hard. "Just for a second... or thirty minutes. Whatever time you allow me."
Tears spilled down her face, her eyelids too puffy from so much crying. "I just want to see him..."
Her voice trembled. "Please. Please, I really beg of you..."
She was about to kneel again when she suddenly felt liquid splash over her head.
Her eyes trailed to the innocent cup of wine, Celina gasped.
It fucking poured over her l, dribbling down her hair and face, then streamed down her clothes.
Her hair became even more damp as the wine stained her white top. She slowly turned toward the lady with a satisfied expression on her face. Diana, the one who had aimed it at her.
More like, deliberately emptied the contents onto no other place than her body—the perfect place.
The damn perfect place for such an imperfect life like hers.
Warmth.
Security.
Happiness.
They had once been fleeting feelings she had taken for granted. She hadn't known they wouldn't last.
Not when her dad was healthy and able. Not when he was still there to protect her. Only now did she sadly realize how important his affection had been.
How much he cared. How much he had always tried to make sure nothing bad happened to her.
And now...the worst was happening, bad was an understatement, such an imperfect life like hers.
Degraded.
Humiliated. Made a subject of her stepmom's cruel plans, her heart sank as she blinked down at herself.
The wine had stained her top and trickled down to her skirt, making the red color even more obvious against the white fabric.
But it wasn't the stain that hurt the most, It was what the clothes represented.
Her mind suddenly flashed back how this outfit, her father bought and she had chosen to wear, meant something to her.
She had worn it while preparing to leave home because she wanted to remember her father whenever she looked at it.
It had been a small piece of the life she was leaving behind. A reminder of warmth. Security. Happiness...feelings she had once believed would always be there.
Until the sad news came that her dad had been rushed to the hospital and had fallen into a coma.
Now even that small reminder had been ruined.
The red stains spread across the white fabric like ugly marks against a memory she had desperately wanted to preserve.
Her heart sank, the clothes were rained.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Diana's lips parted into a smirk.
"I didn't see you there."
Her eyes traveled over Celina from head to toe, filled with malicious satisfaction and irritation at her sight.
Then she moved two fingers toward Celina as though dismissing her and stepped aside.
"Do you know how much you disgust me, Celina?"
Alexa stepped forward and grabbed Celina's hair from the roots.
Celina's lips parted in shock. For a moment, no words came out.
Then she screamed in pain and immediately tried to pull Alexa's hand away.
"Your presence alone sucks the breath out of me."
Alexa tightened her grip.
"Resist me again, Celina, and you won't know what I can do."
A challenge. "Unless you try." And finally released her hair.
Then Alexa lowered herself until she was at Celina's kneeling level.
She whispered into her ear, her painted lips close to her ear. "Who knows? Maybe I could put in a good word for you with Mom, and you could see Dad."
Celina's eyes widened. Just in a moment, hope returned. She looked at Alexa, her eyes softening as though silently begging her to do exactly that.
Alexa gave a low chuckle, drawling.. mockingly. "But should I?"
She tilted her head. "Seeing the way you make sure I'm insignificant whenever we're in the same place..."
Her smile widened, "Maybe you've made me reconsider."
She was deliberately playing with Celina's emotions, dangling hope before her just to see whether it would shatter.
She brushed her fingers over Celina's stained white top. "But should I?" Alexa laughed again.
Then she stood, twirled, and deliberately flung her hair into Celina's face, "Absolutely not."
Alexa was the first daughter, followed by Diana, while Celina was the youngest, born to a different mother.
They hated Celina because she was their father's favorite and because, in their eyes, she was more beautiful than both of them.
That was the truth they never wanted to admit.
"This bitch." Alexa walked back toward her mother.
"Just looking at her sours my mood."
She shared the wine among herself, her mother, and Diana.
"Oh, sorry I ruined your top." Dana walked toward Celina, continued playing innocent as she took another sip of wine, leaving a little in the glass.
Then she tilted her head. "Should I ruin the skirt too?" Her voice was almost playful, but her eyes weren't.
Threateningly, she slowly curved her hand, tilting the glass, thhe wine swayed dangerously close to the edge.
Celina's eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the glass.
She instinctively drew her body backward, her hands hovering in front of her skirt as though they could somehow protect it.
"No..." The word barely escaped her lips cos she knew exactly what Diana intended.
Before she could do anything, Alexa stepped forward and dumped the half-filled contents of her glass onto Celina's skirt.
WHOOSH!
The wine splashed across her lap.
Before Celina could raise her hands to block it, while completely, droplets landed on her fingertips while the rest soaked into her skirt and pooled across her lap.
She gasped, the red stain spread across her skirt.
For a moment, Celina simply stared down.
She didn't even know what hurt more. The wine.
The humiliation or the fact that the people doing this to her were her own family.
The cold liquid soaked through the fabric, adding to the chill already attacking her body, the cold from the tiled floor rose through her legs.
The rain had already drenched her, her clothes were already cold against her skin and now the wine was adding another layer of wetness to her trembling body.
Everything was too much. Too cold. Too painful.
Too humiliating.
Her fingers trembled as she looked down at herself.
She looked like a mess. A ruined, stained mess.
And all she could think about was how beautiful the outfit had looked before she came here.
How happy she had been when she put it on.
How she had wanted to carry a little piece of that happiness with her now it was stained by the very people who wanted to see her suffer.
Then, Diana picked up a napkin and pretended to wipe Celina's clothes. Her expression was almost innocent.
Almost. Then she deliberately dropped it. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She looked down at the napkin. "It just dropped."
The three women laughed as Alexa raised her heels and poked at the stained white slitted skirt, adding another mark to the red stain.
Celina flinched, She was like a mess.
An ugly, humiliated mess.
Then Diana took their glasses and filled them with more wine, raising them like they were celebrating another victory.
"Cheers!" they all exclaimed, their voices and laughter pierced through the hallway deliberately echoing around Celina's distress.
Their glasses clinked. "To more luxury." They laughed again. "To more power and Less burdens" eyes blinking towards Celina and swiftly, back to the glasses
"And To having everything we want." Their laughter grew louder.
Celina stared at them in disbelief, She felt as though a thousand needles were piercing through her skin.
Her own sisters, her own family.
They hated her this much? Enough to do this to her?
Enough to watch her cry and still laugh?
Enough to see her begging for a chance to see their father and turn it into entertainment?
How could they hate her this much?
Tears rolled continuously down her cheeks, Her head ached. Her body ached but the pain in her soul was worse.
Every insult, every humiliation, every cruel word seemed to settle somewhere inside her, leaving another wound behind.
Then Mrs. Andrea's voice cut sharply through the hallway.
"Kneel, you bitch. Then I might reconsider."
Celina's heart sank...Her body ached so badly and could barely move.
She was numb. Numb from the pain.
Numb from the mistreatment. Numb from everything they had forced her to endure.
It felt as though her body no longer belonged to her.
But none of that mattered, not anymore.
She would do anything. Anything at all, If it meant seeing her father. The one person whose love had never made her feel like a burden.
The one man who had always made her feel safe.
The one man whose warm hands she wanted to hold just one more time.
So she obeyed, Celina slowly lowered herself to the floor, tears falling freely.
"I beg you." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Let me just hold his hands once more."
She was begging helplessly now.
"Don't forget to use the napkin to clean our shoes," Diana hissed.
Celina stared at their shoes....Her mind went blank.
It was as though her brain had forgotten how to process anything except one thing.
There was only one thing occupying it.
Her father. The desire to see her father's fave.
She imagined his closed eyelids, his short lashes framing his handsome, aging face. She imagined his hand in hers. His familiar warmth.
To know he was still there. Here. Breathing even tho asleep.
Celina picked up the napkin. She cleaned their shoes, didn't miss a spot.
The already-clean, sparkling heels of their expensive shoes received the attention they demanded, while she knelt there on the cold floor, drenched in wine and humiliation.
She couldn't comprehend the cruelty of what they were doing to her.
But she endured it because all she could think about was her father. She just wanted him to be okay.
She desperately wanted to believe Mrs Andrea's words, wanted to believe that her father would survive.
Even though, deep down, she knew how much these women hated her and after all these years, they finally had an opportunity to make her feel insignificant.
They were taking it without hesitation.
When she finished, Celina slowly pushed herself to her feet. "Can I see him now?" Her voice trembled, some of the words catching painfully in her throat.
"I... I can't bear the thou... thought of not being able to say goodbye to him."
"Please. I beg of you... please."
The cold wine and the cold floor she had stayed on were beginning to enter her system, slowly affecting her.
Her vision began to become blurry as her teeth chattered.
She struggled to take calm breaths.
This always happened when she became highly overwhelmed with too many emotions.
Her body simply couldn't handle it but she fought for control. One breath, then another.
In between shaky breaths, she held onto the wall for support, forcing air into her lungs and struggled to breathe in.
Her nerves were getting too much. Everything was becoming too much.
Yet, several minutes, she managed to get a little of her emotions under control. She could finally put herself in an almost upright position without holding onto anything.
Her body was still trembling.
Before Mrs. Andrea could answer—or before Celina could convince herself that her stepmom would answ—
Or would she really allow her? Celina's hope flickered.
"Security!" Mrs. Andrea's voice thundered through the hallway. Then the hope died.
A group of men in uniform immediately entered.
Celina's eyes widened in horror. Her entire body went rigid, stunned. Frozen.
"Take this disgusting thing out of here." Her stepmother pointed at her.
Her stepsisters' muffled laughter crackled through the hallway.
Before Celina could react, strong hands closed around both her arms.
They did not hurt her, but their grip was firm enough to hold her still and carry out the order without giving her a chance to resist.
She struggled.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
But every attempt became weaker as her strength slowly drained away.
"Just one more time, please!" Celina screamed as they dragged her away.
"Please! Don't do this to my dad!"
She fought against their grip, desperately trying to free herself with whatever strength she had left.
"To me pleaseee.." Her voice cracked "I'm begging you! I wouldn't be able to forgive myself!"
Her voice echoed through the hallway, breaking between sobs, mumbled pleas, and desperate cries.
But none of it reached them. Not her stepmother,
Not her stepsisters and not even their hearts.
Behind her, the women laughed.
Their clicking heels followed closely behind the security officers as they watched her being taken away.
Tears streamed down Celina's face. Her cheeks were stained with tears,, her wet hair clung messily to her skin, and her eyes were red and puffy. Tears had blurred her face until she barely looked like herself anymore.
She looked completely broken. Yet she still fought.
Still pleaded, Sill hoped. Then, the security officers pushed her outside.
Straight into the rain.
It beat down on her body relentlessl, soaking her within seconds, plastering her clothes against her skin and sending a violent shiver through her.
Her body struggled to remain steady.
But she tumbled and fell. A sharp pain shot through her from the impact.
Her entire body ached terribly, and even moving the part that had been badly strained felt almost impossible.
Her lips parted as she fought back a cry.
Every small movement sent another wave of pain through her.She sat there on the wet ground, rain mixing with her tears as it streamed down her face.
She looked up and still, she refused to stay silent.
Her lips trembled. "Please..." A prayer escaped her mouth. "Please, let no harm come to my dad."
Again.. "Please, let no harm come to my dad."
And again. She repeated it over and over. If she wasn't saying it aloud, she was reciting it in her
It was the only thing she had left.
She tried to get back inside.
But the moment she struggled to her feet, she was pushed back into the rain.
A loud scream escaped her lips.
Her soaked clothes clung heavily to her body as the rain increased, beating harder against her skin and washing nothing away.
Yet, unrelenting, she continued pleading. "Please! Just let me see him!"
But no one listened.
Instead, Mrs. Andrea Saunders—the vile woman who had spent years making her life miserable—stepped forward.
Then, with one careless kick, she sent a nearby trash can and sending it scraping across the wet ground before stopping near her..
Mockery and laughter spilled from their lips.
They stood there watching, enjoying her useless state, enjoying the sight of her on the ground.
Enjoying every second of her humiliation as though it were entertainment.
After several minutes of watching her suffer. They finally, Mrs. Andrea and her daughters turned around and went back inside.
The clicking of their heels slowly faded, but Celina remained where she was.
For a moment, she simply sat there while, the rain continued falling. She rethought her life.
How had everything become this bad?
How had the little warmth she once knew disappeared so completely?
The life she had once believed could still hold happiness suddenly felt like nothing more than a distant memory.
Warmth.
Security.
Happiness.
They all seemed like things meant for other people.
Not her. Not anymore.
Something she had once known. Something she wasn't sure she would ever feel again.
Her chest tightenedz her life had become a thoroughly hopeless cause.
Yet, even in that hopelessness, one thought remained stubbornly alive inside her.
Her father. Hope,because even if she didn't see her father today, something deep inside her refused to believe this was goodbye.
Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs.
She would see him again. She would hug him. She would kiss his cheek. She would sit beside him and tell him everything she had been too afraid to say.
She would complain about how badly he had scared her.
And he would laugh, he would tease her, he would ask her why she was crying. Then they would talk about why he hadn't woken up sooner.
And she would sit there beside him, watching him slowly return to his old, bouncing, happy self.
She could already imagine it. His warm smile.
His familiar eyes. His hand reaching toward her cheek.
She would hold it.
She would hold it for as long as she could because she refused to believe that this was the last time she would ever see him.
She refused...Couldn't. Clung to that picture in her mind as though it were the only thing keeping her alive.
Then, with one step...And another...Celina slowly stood to her full height.
Despite the cold enveloping her shaking body and the rain pouring relentlessly around her, something inside her had changed.
The last tears slid down her cheeks, She wiped them away.
One intention burned through her. 'The next time they met, she would never be helpless again.'
She would never allow herself to be reduced to this, to this state of complete nothingness.
She would become stronger, no longer the runaway daughter.
No longer the girl who could be dragged through humiliation simply because she loved her father too much to fight back.
No. She would become someone they could never break so easily again and that was her solemn oath.
Until her last breath. Her eyes held a new glint. Determination. Unwavering. Unquenchable.
Celina had lost the battle today but she would not lose herself.
Never!!