บท 52: Broken Doll

The next morning, the early light filtered through the heavy curtains of Lila's chamber, casting a pale glow across the room. The air was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood that still lingered from the previous night. Lila lay unconscious on the bed, her blonde hair spread like a halo around her head, now matted and dull. Her face, once so full of life, was pale and still, marred by the injuries she had sustained.

Mateo stood at the foot of her bed, his gaze fixed on her fragile form. The doctor's words from the night before echoed in his mind—the head injury, the broken bones, the blood loss. Lila was teetering on the edge, and Mateo knew that her recovery was far from guaranteed. But as he looked down at her, he didn't feel the compassion that might have softened another man's heart. Instead, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He took a step closer, his shadow falling over Lila's still form. "Look at you," he whispered, his voice low and taunting. "So helpless, so weak. You always were, weren't you? You thought you could defy me, run from me. But here you are, right where you belong."

Mateo leaned over her, his hand brushing against her cheek in a mockery of tenderness. "You know, Lila, I've been thinking about what I should do with you. Should I let you live, keep you hidden away like a broken doll? Or should I take you back to Axel and show him what's become of his precious wife?"

His eyes glinted with a dangerous light as he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Imagine the look on his face when he sees you like this. Should I let him hold you, see the life drain from your eyes as he realizes there's nothing he can do to save you? Or maybe… maybe I should kill you in front of him. Yes, that would be poetic, wouldn't it? To take away the one thing he cares about, the one thing he thought he could protect."

He straightened, his hand slipping away from her cheek as he stared down at her, lost in his twisted fantasies. "Oh, how I would love to see the despair in his eyes, the moment he realizes that he's lost. That everything he fought for was for nothing."

Lila remained still, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, unaware of the man standing over her, plotting her fate. Mateo watched her for a moment longer, then turned away, his mind made up. He had plans to set in motion, revenge to enact. And Lila—whether she lived or died—would be the instrument of his vengeance.

As he left the room, Mateo couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. Axel would return to a palace full of lies, betrayals, and shattered illusions. And when the time was right, Mateo would reveal the truth to him in the cruelest way possible. Until then, Lila would remain his pawn, her life hanging by a thread, her fate entwined with his own twisted desires.

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As Lila lay on the bed, her mind drifted in and out of a hazy fog. The sharp pain in her head was unbearable, throbbing with each shallow breath she took. The voices around her seemed distant, as though she were submerged underwater, hearing only muffled sounds. But there was one voice that cut through the fog, cruel and cold, filled with malice and anger.

She struggled to make sense of the words, to grasp onto the meaning behind them, but they slipped away from her, elusive and fragmented. Her thoughts were scattered, fragments of memories flitting through her mind like fleeting shadows.

"Should I kill you in front of him?" The voice echoed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Who… who is he talking about?" Lila wondered, her thoughts tangled and confused. 'Who is "him"?'

She tried to piece together the disjointed fragments in her mind, but they slipped away like sand through her fingers. The pain was overwhelming, and her thoughts kept circling back to a single, terrifying question: 'Who am I?'

Lila struggled to remember. Her name, her identity, everything about herself seemed just out of reach. "Why is this man so angry with me?" she thought, panic beginning to rise in her chest. She couldn't remember him, couldn't understand why he would want to harm her.

She tried to force herself to think, to push past the pain, but it was like trying to see through a thick, impenetrable fog. Everything was unclear, muddled, and distant. All she knew was that she was in danger, and the man standing over her was not someone she could trust.

'I have to get away…' The thought was faint, like a flicker of light in the darkness. But how could she escape when she didn't even know where she was?

Lila's eyelids fluttered weakly, but she couldn't summon the strength to open them. Her body felt heavy, every movement a struggle, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness weighed down on her like a suffocating blanket.

"What's my name?" she asked herself again, desperately searching her mind for an answer. But there was nothing. Just a blank void where her memories should have been.

Tears welled up in her eyes, though they didn't fall. The frustration, the fear, the utter confusion—it was all too much. She was lost, adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with no anchor to hold onto. All she had were the fragmented echoes of a voice filled with hatred, and a gnawing sense of dread that refused to let her go.

Lila's thoughts began to drift again, the darkness pulling her back under. But just before she slipped into unconsciousness, a single word surfaced in her mind, a name whispered from somewhere deep within her fragmented memory.

"Lila…"

But that was all she could grasp before the darkness claimed her once more.