After I Died, They Begged for My Forgiveness

My fiancé Alaric dragged me to the basement of the Voss estate and kept me there for seven days and seven nights. "How dare you glare at Isabella at the banquet. You deserve everything that comes to you." With that, he gouged out my eye. No anesthesia. The pain knocked me unconscious. It was not until the eighth day that my three brothers finally showed up. Julian arrived first and slapped me across the face without a word of explanation. "Because of your attitude, Isabella had a complete breakdown last night. As compensation, I have already transferred your trust fund and every personal asset you own into her name." Marcus came next. Ex-Special Forces, built like someone who had spent his entire life becoming a weapon. He planted his boot on my knee and pressed down until something cracked. "From today, Isabella is the only Voss heir that matters. I will not acknowledge you as my sister." Last was my brother who practiced medicine. No one in Los Angeles dared show him anything less than respect. He was the only one who crouched down and wiped the blood from my face. But what he said frightened me more than anything my other brothers had done. "Isabella's leukemia is progressing. She needs a bone marrow donor, and you are a match." He held up a syringe. "This will not be comfortable." I had no chance to speak. The needle went in. ...... After the extraction, they moved me upstairs. Clean sheets, a private nurse — the kind of careful attention that arrives too late to mean anything. When I opened my eyes, Julian was standing by the window. He had dark circles he had not bothered to hide, which was unusual. Julian always appeared composed. In his line of work, it was necessary. He rarely let his appearance slip like this. "You are awake," he said, turning around. "You gave us quite a scare." I watched his performance without saying a word. "Do not look at me like that," he said. "As if we have been cruel to you. Was it not you who made the first mistake — frightening Isabella into a breakdown?" "What you are going through now is simply paying for what you did." "Everything you know about this came from Isabella alone. Did anyone ask me?" His eyes shifted for just a moment. The movement was small, but I caught it. None of what I said mattered here. Only Isabella's happiness did. Silas walked in then, holding a tablet. "Vitals are stable. Take your medication on schedule and you will be mobile within two days." I turned my face away. "Vivian, you have always had a strong constitution. This will not cause you any irreversible damage." "Do not think that a few tears will earn you our sympathy." "Or make us turn against Isabella on your behalf." In the past, faced with this kind of misunderstanding from my own family, I would have defended myself with red eyes, crying as I insisted on my innocence. But now, there was no point. I closed my eyes and said quietly, "You can all go. I want to be alone." For me, the fastest relief at this point was to let this broken body die as soon as possible. Julian heard something entirely different in those words. "Vivian! Are you saying this just to spite me?" He pressed down on my wound in anger. The stitching that had just been sewn together was wrenched apart, and the pain hit me in waves. Watching me convulse, a flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. His voice softened slightly. "You are my own sister. We three brothers spared nothing to find you, spent everything we had to bring you back. How could we possibly let you die just like that?" "But when it comes down to it, if you were not so petty, always making Isabella cry, how did you end up in this situation?" As he spoke, he brought a cup of something over and pried my mouth open to pour it in. "Just swear that when you go back, you will stop going after Isabella and apologize to her properly. Then I will take you home. Otherwise, you can stay here." Listening to him speak as if he were granting me a favor, I felt a chill go through me that had nothing to do with the cold. I had suffered from a young age. Three years ago, they finally found me. They held me and wept, saying they had owed me eighteen years and would give me only the best of everything from then on. But when I arrived at the Voss household, I found there was no place left for me. Years earlier, when we were both wandering the streets, Isabella had seen the notice the Voss family put out searching for me. She locked me inside a room, took my identity, and was taken in by the Voss family in my place. For all those years, she had enjoyed the love and privilege that should have been mine. I had struggled alone in the mud. Yet no matter how she stirred things up, no matter how she performed her victimhood, my brothers always took her side and found fault with me. Even Alaric, the man I was engaged to, doted on her and treated me with ice. I was too tired of the endless entanglement and pain to waste another breath defending myself. While the sedative had not yet fully taken hold, I tore open the wound that had just been sutured. As blood and torn flesh surged out, Julian screamed. "You have lost your mind! You will die!" Watching him panic with reddened eyes, I pulled at the corner of my mouth into a faint, hollow smile. "Dying sounds wonderful." "Every second I keep living is suffering." After those words, I could hold on no longer. Everything went dark.

I do not know how much time passed before I woke from the darkness. When I opened my eyes, I found Julian's cold gaze. He stood by the bed in a pressed suit, his expression impatient, though his eyes held shadows he could not quite conceal. He had clearly not slept in days. "You finally woke up." His voice was hard. "How old are you now, acting so impulsively — making such a scene over nothing. You have embarrassed the Voss name." The thought of having to face this nauseating world any longer drained me of all energy. I had no interest in arguing. I looked at him with empty eyes. "You are right, Julian. I am shameless. I do not deserve to be alive." "It would be cleaner if I just died." Julian's expression went cold and rigid. His hand rose instinctively to strike me, but when his gaze fell on my bloodless face and the thick bandaging wrapped around my shoulder, his hand stopped in midair. "Vivian! I am warning you. Do not say things like that." His voice trembled slightly. The impatience in his eyes faded a little, replaced by a trace of panic he had not yet noticed in himself. "I used every connection the Voss family has to get you out of that place. Not so you could lie here talking like this." I pulled at the corner of my mouth and laughed inwardly. Every connection. He was probably only afraid that if I died, there would be no one left to serve as a backup donor for Isabella. No one to make her look like the fragile, pitiable creature that fed their need to protect her. While I was thinking this, the door opened quietly and Silas walked in carrying a cup of nutritional supplement. When he saw I was awake, a brief flicker of relief crossed his eyes, but his voice was still cold when he spoke. "Now that you are up, drink this. Do not make me force you." He held the cup toward me. I turned my head away instinctively. "No need. It is a waste." "You—" Silas' hands were shaking with anger, but he did not actually force me. Instead, he placed the cup on the nightstand and reached over to carefully lift the bandaging from my shoulder to check beneath it. In that moment, his hands were surprisingly gentle. "Good. The wound is healing reasonably well with the treatment we used." He rewrapped the bandaging, shot me a look, but his voice had softened. "Stay still. If you touch that wound again, I am done with you." The words were harsh, but I could clearly see the shadows under his eyes. He had probably not slept properly in days either, keeping watch here the whole time. In the past, that rare gentleness would have moved me. I would have held onto him and wept through all my years of grievances. But now, I only found it grotesque. This was the man who had done this to me with his own hands. Whatever this was now, it was nothing but a crocodile's tears. I pulled free of his hand, threw off the covers, and moved toward the edge of the nightstand. Every second spent alive in this place was suffering. Only death would give me any real release. "Have you lost your mind!" Marcus appeared in the doorway without warning and rushed over, grabbing me in one motion. I let out a muffled sound of pain. He immediately eased his grip. "Vivian! What do you think you are doing?" "I want to die." My voice was calm. "Let me die. It is better for everyone. You will not have to struggle with this anymore, and Isabella can settle comfortably into her place as the Voss heiress and Alaric's fiancée." "So please, Marcus. Let me go quickly."

Marcus went rigid. He raised his hand and struck me across the face. But compared to the boot he had pressed down onto my knee, this was almost gentle. "I will not allow it. You are the true daughter of this family. Who would dare let you die?" Silas panicked too. He stepped forward and pressed me back down onto the bed. "Vivian, stop this. I know you are in pain, but just recover properly. From now on, I will treat you better. I promise." I looked at the plea in his eyes and found it completely absurd. Where was all this before? I closed my eyes and stopped looking at them. I let Silas pull the covers back over me, let him bring the cup to my lips — but I refused to open my mouth no matter what. While we were at an impasse, the door opened again. Alaric and Isabella came in together. Isabella was dressed in white, her face pale, occasionally coughing softly. She looked fragile and unwell. Julian immediately stood and went to her. "Isabella, you are barely recovered. Why did you come? Sit down, rest." Isabella shook her head. Her gaze moved to me, full of guilt. "This is all my fault. If I had not said what I said that day, Vivian would not have had to suffer like this." "I have not been able to settle, so I prepared something and came to bring it myself. It is the least I can do." As she spoke, she took the cup from Silas and sat down at the edge of my bed. "Vivian, stop being angry with yourself. Rest and recover properly. Everything in the Voss family was always meant to be yours. I have never wanted to take anything from you." These words sounded like a concession. In reality, every line implied that I was petty and narrow-minded, making a life-or-death spectacle over nothing. Before she could bring the cup anywhere near my lips, I knocked it away. The cup hit the marble floor and shattered. The liquid splashed across Isabella, and her wrist reddened immediately. Isabella cried out, her eyes filling as if on cue, threatening to spill over. "Vivian, how could you do this? I only wanted to help you." She bit her lip with the look of someone who had been deeply, unjustly wronged. "Vivian! Have you gone mad!" Julian erupted. He pulled Isabella behind him and stared at me with barely contained fury. Silas rushed to check Isabella's wrist, his face taut with worry. "How bad is it? Did the heat reach you?" "Vivian, you have gone too far. After everything Isabella has done for you, you still cannot let it go." Marcus pressed his brow together, disappointment filling his eyes. Alaric moved to Isabella's side, took out a handkerchief and gently dabbed at the liquid on her, then cast a cold glance in my direction. "Vivian, Isabella came here in good faith. Even if you cannot appreciate it, you had no right to hurt her." All of them crowded around Isabella, attentive and concerned, with no thought spared for me — the one who had just had her bone marrow forcibly extracted.

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