Bab 10: A Decision in the Dark

TERESA'S P.O.V.

Two days after the explosive confrontation with my father, I heard a soft but persistent knock at my apartment door. I opened it to find Luke standing there, looking more worried than I had ever seen him—his brow furrowed, eyes wide with confusion, and a slight tremor in his hands as if they were trying to grasp onto something solid.

"Teresa...," Luke said, his voice shaky, "I—I don't know what to do. Everything's falling apart. The house, my inlaws home for over twenty years, they're booking it for demolition. They're saying the government wants the land... but why now? Why so suddenly? It doesn't make any sense."

His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, which had grown a little too long and unkempt from stress.

"And the bakery..." he continued, pacing back and forth in my small living room, "Mom's bakery... The building owner suddenly wants to sell it to the government. Just like that. They're going to shut it down, Tess! All those years of work, gone!"

I stood there, watching my older brother break down, his face red, his eyes glassy. Luke, the one who always kept it together, always held me up—he was unraveling before me.

"Luke, please sit," I said softly, leading him to the couch. I knew why this was happening. My father. He was behind it all. He had warned me that if I didn't agree to his ridiculous terms, Luke would pay the price. And now... I was watching it unfold. But I couldn't tell Luke that. No, that would only make things worse.

"I'm sure... there's a way out of this," I said, forcing a smile that I hoped was more convincing than it felt. "You know how these things work. They'll sort it out. It's probably just... a mix-up."

Luke dropped his face into his hands, rubbing at his temples. "I don't know, Tess. I've never felt so... helpless. Like everything's slipping through my fingers."

I wanted to scream, to tell him the truth. But instead, I moved toward the kitchen. "Let me make you something to eat, okay? You'll feel better after you've had something."

Luke didn't argue. He sat there, defeated, his shoulders hunched forward. I prepared a simple meal, trying to block out the rage building inside me. I couldn't believe my father was doing this, using Luke, using his family, as leverage. It was vile.

After Luke ate, he finally drifted off to sleep on the couch, his exhaustion taking over. I watched him for a moment, my chest tightening. He didn't deserve this. None of them did.

Just as I was about to get up, my phone buzzed on the table. 'Vanessa,' The name on the screen made my heart drop—my stepmother.

I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Hello?"

Her tone was syrupy, sickeningly sweet, but there was always an edge underneath it. "Teresa, darling. Your father would like to see you. I hope you're not still dragging your feet on the... arrangement. You know, time is ticking, and poor Luke, well, what's happening to him now will seem like child's play if your father decides he's still unsatisfied."

I gripped the phone tighter, glancing over at my sleeping brother. "Please," I whispered, "Please just tell him to stop messing with Luke and his family. I'll... I'll see him tomorrow. Just—tell him I'll do it."

"Oh, sweetheart," she crooned, "I'll be sure to pass that along. Sleep well now."

She hung up before I could respond. I stared at the phone in disbelief, my throat tightening with unshed tears. I coiled up on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, biting my lip to keep from sobbing aloud. I couldn't let Luke hear me. Not him. Not after everything.

I needed air. I needed to escape the suffocating weight of it all.

I grabbed my jacket and quietly slipped out of the apartment. The cool evening breeze hit my face, and I welcomed it. I didn't know where I was going, but I kept walking, hoping the movement would help clear my head.

I found myself at a small park, deserted except for the faint rustling of leaves in the trees. I sat down on a bench, burying my face in my hands, letting the tears finally fall. It was something around past 7 p.m., and I was utterly alone—or so I thought.

"Again?" A familiar voice interrupted my spiral. I looked up, startled, wiping my face quickly. Lucian Blackwood stood before me, hands in his pockets, his usual smirk softened by an almost curious tilt of his head.

Lucian was the last person I expected to run into, especially here. He was always so... composed, almost aloof, his sarcasm as sharp as the suits he wore. But tonight, he was dressed casually—a simple black shirt, jeans—but he still carried that aura of effortless elegance, like he belonged to a world apart from mine.

"Lucian," I sniffed, trying to pull myself together. "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same," he said, sitting beside me. "But I'll take a wild guess—crying, again. It's becoming a bit of a habit with you, isn't it?"

I gave him a half-hearted glare, though I knew he was just being his usual sarcastic self. "I'm not crying... that much."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the bench. "So what is it this time, Teresa? Something more tragic than last week's melodrama or two days ago drinking pity party? Or are we still in the 'woe is me' phase?"

Despite myself, I let out a small laugh. That was Lucian. Always pushing buttons. But he never judged—at least, not in the way most people did.

"It's... complicated," I finally said, looking out at the empty park. "I'm about to make a decision that isn't even mine to make. I feel like I'm being led to the slaughter. But if I don't do it... it'll destroy Luke and his family."

His usual sarcastic expression faltered for a second, his brows knitting together.

"Luke?"

"My brother," I replied and he nodded.

"What kind of decision?" A brow raised slightly as he looked at me for an answer.

I hesitated, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I... I'm taking my stepsister's place. I'm... going to be sacrificed for her."

For a moment, Lucian looked genuinely concerned, his sharp eyes softening. "Teresa," he began, his voice unusually gentle, "you can't possibly—"

I cut him off, standing up abruptly. "Thank you, Lucian. For listening. You always seem to show up when I'm at my worst, even though I know you'd rather be anywhere else."

He didn't say anything, just watched me carefully, his expression unreadable.

"Goodbye," I whispered, turning away, already feeling the weight of tomorrow pressing down on me.

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