Chapter 10
“So, would you?” Kira whispered, nudging me with her elbow.
I shook my head without hesitation. “Never. Unless he’s figured out how to raise the dead.”
Kira didn’t push further.
After the footage of Laria attacking my mother went viral, social media erupted in collective
outrage.
My mother’s former students–dozens of successful architects and designers–organized a petition
demanding criminal charges.
Then came the plot twist no one saw coming.
Laria, who’d vanished after her mysterious abduction, suddenly reappeared–literally dumped on a
busy downtown corner like yesterday’s trash.
Her clothes were torn, her appearance disheveled, but people still recognized her instantly.
As the crowd moved to detain her for the police, she somehow broke free and disappeared into the
city.
Social media exploded with frustrated comments from people wishing they’d been there to catch her
themselves.
I thought the drama might finally be winding down, but Hektor had one more card to play.
At the height of the scandal, he launched an unannounced livestream. Within minutes, his viewer count exploded into the hundreds of thousands.
“Holy shit, Yunifer, you need to see this,” Kira said, shoving her phone in front of me. Hektor’s
voice–rough and hollow–filled the room.
“I need to make something clear. Four years ago, I destroyed Yunifer Harrison’s life.”
“To help Laria become the art world’s rising star and secure her marriage into the Davidson fortune,
I betrayed Yunifer’s trust. I created copies of her original paintings and switched them.”
00:12
What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger
7.0%
Chapter 10
“Then I sold the forgeries to collectors.”
“On the day of Yunifer’s wedding to Julian, I tipped off the buyers that their paintings were fake.”
“I destroyed all evidence that could have cleared her name and let her serve three years in prison
for my crime.”
“I’ve recently learned that Laria arranged for inmates to torment Yunifer throughout her
incarceration.”
The comment section exploded in real–time, viewers calling for Hektor’s head on a platter.
Some demanded his immediate arrest; others suggested more creative forms of justice, others
threatened violence.
Each confession felt like a knife twisting in my chest.
I had trusted him completely–looked up to him like an older brother. Even after he left art for business, my father still considered him his star pupil.
Dad would regularly invite him to our home. Mom would spend all day cooking his favorite dishes.
How could he have been so ruthless? How could he have systematically destroyed my family
without remorse?
I collapsed against Kira’s shoulder, my body shaking with sobs I couldn’t control.
I’m not sure how long I cried, but eventually the doorbell rang.
Kira went to answer it while I desperately tried to pull myself together, splashing cold water on my
swollen face.
Then I heard her furious voice from the hallway:
“What the hell are you doing here?”
