Chapter 566 - 162 Blood and Betrayal

Chapter 566: Chapter 162 Blood and Betrayal

Lila’s POV

I pressed myself deeper into the corner of the dimly lit basement, my body aching from the savage beating Claire had delivered with her diamond-encrusted rings. Each bruise was a testament to the cruelty of the woman who had raised me in the Shadow of the Sullivan crime family. The sound of her designer heels clicking against the concrete floor announced her return before she even spoke.

"I’m back, you little pest," Claire announced, her voice carrying the satisfaction of a predator who had cornered her prey. "Your brother Beckett is finally ready to negotiate with me. Do you understand what this means? It means I’m about to claim everything that should have been mine from the beginning."

Her laughter echoed off the warehouse walls before her manicured hand struck my already swollen cheek. The familiar sting brought fresh tears, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of crying out.

"You know, Lila, I’m really going to miss these intimate conversations we have," she said, landing another blow with practiced precision. "There’s something so satisfying about putting spoiled mafia princesses in their place."

Apparently growing tired of standing, she settled into the expensive leather chair her men had brought down, crossing her legs with the casual elegance of someone discussing tomorrow’s weather rather than orchestrating my destruction.

"Do you have any idea how exhausting it’s been, pretending to care about you all these years?" She examined her perfectly manicured nails, each one painted the color of fresh blood. "Playing the devoted mother to Nathaniel Sullivan’s precious daughter while you lived in luxury, completely oblivious to how the family business really works."

"You never cared about me," I whispered, finding unexpected courage in what might be my final hours.

"What did you say?" Her cold blue eyes narrowed to deadly slits. "Don’t test my patience, girl. Not today."

"You never showed me real care," I repeated, my voice stronger this time despite the fear coursing through my veins.

Claire leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with malicious pleasure. "Now Justin, my actual son, him I genuinely loved. When I discovered I was carrying Justin, it was the most joyful moment of my entire life. Him, I raised with true maternal devotion." Her expression softened momentarily before hardening again as her gaze fixed on me. "You were nothing more than a strategic asset, a key to Nathaniel’s empire. The only reason your father married me was to secure your position in the family hierarchy. And let me tell you, being married to that sanctimonious man was pure tedium."

"My God, you’re absolutely vicious," I said, finally seeing the true nature of the woman I had called mother my entire life.

"Vicious? No, darling, I’m simply pragmatic," she replied with a dismissive gesture. "And you were never part of my long-term plans. Neither was your father, for that matter." She rose from her seat and approached me again, her shadow engulfing my trembling form.

"Ha! Don’t tell me you still haven’t pieced it together? How utterly naive you Sullivan children can be!"

Her laugh was harsh and cutting, like shattered glass scraping against stone.

"What are you referring to?" I asked, though a terrible suspicion was already forming in my mind.

"About the dead woman!" Claire shrieked, her composure finally cracking. "That sanctified bitch! She had Connor completely under her spell, and he still hasn’t recovered from losing her. He’s so consumed by her memory that he’s convinced himself marrying you will somehow bring her back. You! A pathetic substitute! Tell me, what supernatural power do you possess that makes every man in this organization fall at your feet?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I lied, struggling to process her words while the pain in my body intensified.

"Oh, Lila! Stop this charade!" Claire stepped back, surveying me with complete contempt.

"You’re not really my mother, are you?" I finally voiced the question that had haunted me for years.

"Of course not! But I had to maintain the illusion, had to endure your presence every single day." Her eyes flashed with years of accumulated resentment. "The sacrifices I made to marry into this family, raising you was just one of many. My only regret is not eliminating you when you were still helpless. If I had, your father might have left me, but at least I wouldn’t have had to watch him stay married to me solely because of his devotion to you."

"Who is my real mother?" I asked desperately, needing to know the truth before whatever fate awaited me.

"Port’t you figured that out yet? Should I enlighten you? Should I keep you in suspense?" Claire tapped her chin in mock deliberation. "I’m feeling generous today, so perhaps I’ll tell you... Just kidding! Generosity has never been my strong suit."

"You’re pure evil, Claire!" I spat the words at her, regretting every sleepless night I had spent wondering why she couldn’t love me, every desperate attempt I had made to earn her approval.

"Perhaps I am. But I’m also finished with this conversation. See how pleasant our little chat has been? Now, you’re going to sign these documents so I can formalize your marriage to Connor. That’s the final piece of this puzzle." She placed an elegant folder on the table before me and commanded me to sign.

"What do you gain from this marriage?" I dared to ask, though I suspected I already knew the answer.

"What do you think? Power, little fool. Absolute control over territory and resources. I need both because your father’s will left me virtually powerless." Her smile was venomous. "Now sign these papers so I can take them to our family’s legal counsel and arrange your wedding. Later tonight, your devoted husband will arrive to consummate your union."

Her cackling ignited a rage within me I never knew I possessed. I would never marry Connor, not even to save my own life. I seized the papers, tore them into pieces, and scattered the fragments across the concrete floor.

"Not even if you kill me!" I declared.

The slap came instantly, harder than any before. She grabbed my hair, throwing me to the ground with surprising strength for someone who appeared so refined. With both hands, she tore the delicate fabric of my dress, exposing my back to the cold air. I heard the whistle of the leather whip before I felt its brutal bite into my flesh.

Each lash forced an involuntary scream from my throat. The agony was unlike anything I had ever experienced, white-hot fire spreading across my skin. I lost consciousness of time, of how many times the whip carved into my back, of how long I fought to remain aware.

As darkness began consuming the edges of my vision, I heard it—a voice calling Claire’s name that reverberated through the warehouse. Connor’s voice. It was the last sound I registered before surrendering to merciful unconsciousness.