Chapter 80: Chapter 80
It had begun as a business arrangement—a fair exchange.
At least, that was what it had once been. But look at her now. Confined to a wheelchair, both legs ruined, and a jagged, permanent scar marring her face. How could she possibly accept this as her end? No. She wasn’t willing to walk away just yet. She wanted one final chance. One last gamble.
"Pretty Miss... the orange candy is so sweet..."
Robin’s sleepy murmur drifted through the silent, sterile room. A small, innocent smile touched his lips as he shifted under the covers.
"Next time... I want to play with you and Lily again... Pretty Miss... you’re so nice... I like you so much..."
The room fell completely still again. Quinn sat rigid beside the bed, listening to the child’s dream-filled whispers.
Slowly, her hands tightened atop her knees. Her knuckles whitened, the joints in her fingers cracking softly under the sudden, immense force. She kept her eyes fixed on Robin’s sleeping face, her gaze turning dark and venomous.
Five years. She had spent five long years raising this boy, molding herself into his protector. And in the end, she still hadn’t won his heart.
The realization cut deeper than she cared to admit. Why? Why did it always have to be Elise? How could she possibly compete with a ghost? Elise had only spent a handful of days with him—a few brief, accidental encounters—yet Bennett thought about her constantly. Even in his dreams.
Jealousy twisted inside Quinn like a living creature, clawing at her ribs. Her chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven breaths. Beneath the healing scar on her ruined face, the muscles twitched, distorted by a wave of pure resentment and rage.
The truth was, she hadn’t started down this path intending to betray anyone.
At first, she had genuinely planned to honor her end of the agreement. She had fallen for Dylan at first sight, but back then, she had also known her place. A girl from a village, born into grinding poverty, had no business dreaming of a man like him. And more importantly, Dylan belonged to Elise.
At the time, she had truly been grateful to Elise. She had admired her, relied on her, and even treated her like the protective older sister she’d never had.
But five years was a long time. Long enough for gratitude to rot into envy. Long enough for ambition to take deep, unyielding root.
The higher she climbed, the less satisfied she became. She had tasted Dylan’s favor. Even if much of it had been part of an elaborate act for the public eye, it was enough. It was intoxicating. It made her crave the real thing.
When exactly had she started believing she could replace Elise entirely? Quinn searched her memories.
Perhaps it began the day Dylan quietly transferred company shares into her name. The day he gave her real authority, real power—the ability to decide who succeeded and who failed with a single signature.
Power gained through shortcuts was a highly addictive drug. Once tasted, it seeped into the veins, feeding the darkest desires until they consumed everything else.
What had started as a tiny seed of longing had grown into a wild, choking vine stretching endlessly toward the sky.
That vine had emerged from the mud and poverty of a forgotten village where she had spent her childhood struggling just to survive.
It wanted to climb higher, to reach the sunlight, to claim a place among those who had everything. Whether the journey was honorable or filthy no longer mattered to her. She had simply stopped caring.
Gradually, she had convinced herself that Elise would be fine regardless of what she took. Elise was a wealthy heiress born into absolute privilege, a woman who had never known true hardship.
Even if she lost the company, even if she lost Dylan, what difference would it really make? She would still have wealth, status, and a familial safety net that Quinn could only dream of.
But Quinn was different. She had grown up under the thumbs of parents who favored sons and treated daughters as disposable burdens.
She had fought tooth and nail for every scrap of opportunity. To survive, she had to keep climbing. To escape her past, she had to hold tightly to Dylan. Otherwise, she would plunge straight back into the squalor she had spent her life running from.
I’m not wrong, she repeatedly whispered to herself in the dark. I’m only securing a future. Only protecting myself.
Greed had long since strangled whatever conscience remained inside her. But now, watching Robin whisper Elise’s name in his sleep, Quinn finally understood a truth she had spent weeks refusing to acknowledge: the bargaining chip she thought she possessed was no longer hers to play.
For five years, she had painstakingly performed the role of the perfect mother. Five years of calculated affection. Yet Robin’s heart had drifted away with shocking ease.
The disappointment was absolute, crushing her chest.
A low laugh escaped her lips—cold, sharp, and entirely unsettling. The sound seemed to visually darken the shadows in the room. Slowly, she reached out and brushed her fingertips across Bennett’s soft, warm cheek. The sleeping child didn’t stir.
A smile curved her lips, devoid of any warmth.
"Children without value don’t deserve to live," she whispered. Her voice was soft, resembling a lover’s murmur, yet terrifying enough to sound like a devil issuing a death sentence. "Robin..." Her smile widened into something grotesque. "You chose the wrong side."
The following morning, shortly after ten o’clock, a devastating traffic accident occurred on the industrial outskirts of Rivergate City.
A heavy freight truck ran a red light, slamming broadside into a black Mercedes sedan. The impact was catastrophic. The sedan crumpled and erupted into flames almost immediately. By the time emergency responders managed to arrive at the scene, the vehicle was completely engulfed in an inferno.
The collision resulted in one confirmed death and one serious injury. Because of the high-profile nature of the vehicle, news reports spread like wildfire across the internet within hours.
At that exact moment, inside the bustling terminal of Rivergate International Airport, Elise sat quietly in a secluded corner of the departure lounge. A wide-brimmed fisherman-style hat shaded most of her face from the terminal lights. Her eyes remained fixed on the grim news article displayed on her phone.
As she read the reports of the burning wreckage, a tight, suffocating knot that had been winding tightly in her chest for weeks finally loosened.
Everything was unfolding exactly according to plan. The staged accident had succeeded flawlessly. From this moment forward, the world would believe Elise Bennett was dead.
A chime resonated through the terminal as the boarding announcement echoed over the speakers. Her flight was finally boarding.
Elise took a long, slow breath, letting the tension leave her body. Then, she reached down and powered off her phone. The old identity that had bound her, trapped her, and nearly destroyed her for years vanished into the black screen.
In her bag remained a new passport, clean documents, and a brand-new name.
Picking up her carry-on luggage, she rose from her seat. Without a single look backward, she walked toward the boarding gate and stepped firmly into the future that awaited her.
