Chapter 7

Cade POV:

The familiar scent of strong coffee and antiseptic filled my senses as I slowly came to. My head throbbed. The throbbing was a constant companion these days. I found myself in my own bed, the opulent silk sheets a stark contrast to the stark memory of the cellar. A flicker of alarm shot through me. Blaire.

The door creaked open. Alessandra, dressed in a pristine white silk robe, entered, a tray laden with breakfast in her hands. Her face wore a practiced expression of tender concern. "Good morning, darling," she purred, her voice soft and sweet. "How are you feeling this morning? You gave us quite a scare last night."

I pushed myself up, wincing at the dull ache in my chest. "Blaire," I rasped, my voice hoarse. "Where is she?"

Alessandra' s smile tightened slightly. "Oh, her? She's fine, darling. Just a little... shaken. I had her moved to a more comfortable room, of course. She's resting. Poor thing." She placed the tray on my bedside table, her hand gently brushing my cheek. "You worry too much about her, Cade. She's not worth your stress."

I pulled away from her touch, the cold, calculating glint in her eyes piercing through her facade. "She was carrying my child, Alessandra," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Are you truly that heartless?"

Her eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock crossing her face, quickly replaced by indignation. "Your child? Cade, don't be ridiculous! She's clearly trying to manipulate you! There was no child! She's always been a liar, a gold-digger who tried to trap you!" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Remember that first time at the gallery? When she 'fell' and sprained her wrist? Or the time her 'art project' caught fire? She orchestrated all of it, Cade, to get your attention, to make you feel sorry for her! She even told me she hated you, but needed your money!"

The words hit me like a barrage of accusations, each one designed to sow doubt, to twist the narrative. My mind reeled, trying to sort through her venomous claims. Blaire hating me? Needing my money? It was unthinkable. Yet, a tiny seed of doubt, planted by Alessandra's years of insidious whispers, began to sprout.

"No," I muttered, shaking my head, trying to clear the fog. "She loved me."

Alessandra snorted, a derisive sound. "Love? Cade, she's an actress! A masterful manipulator! You're so naive when it comes to her. She's a nobody, Cade. Always has been. And she hates you for it." She laughed, a chilling, mirthless sound. "Honestly, her real plan was to expose your illegitimacy to the Dyers the moment her 'pregnancy' was confirmed. To ruin you, Cade, and take everything for herself."

Her words slammed into me, striking at my deepest fear, my greatest vulnerability. Expose my illegitimacy? Ruin me? The thought, once planted, began to fester. What if? What if she truly was capable of such venomous treachery? All the times I'd defended her, believed her... what if it was all a lie?

My chest tightened, a familiar pain flaring. "Get out, Alessandra," I growled, my voice rough. "Just... get out."

She smirked, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. "As you wish, darling." She rose gracefully, her white silk robe swirling around her. "But do try to be more careful with your... 'acquaintances' in the future. Some people are just not worth the trouble." She turned and left, leaving the bitter taste of her words in my mouth.

A while later, a discreet knock sounded. Mrs. Albright entered, her face grim. "Mr. Dyer, there's... a situation with Miss Madden."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "What is it?" I demanded, my voice sharp with a renewed sense of dread.

"She... she attacked Miss Guerra, sir." Mrs. Albright wrung her hands, her eyes filled with a nervous apprehension. "Miss Guerra is quite distraught. She fell down the main staircase."

A cold certainty settled in my stomach. Blaire. Her defiance, her anger. Alessandra' s words echoed in my ears: "She's always been manipulative." Had she truly done it? Had she finally snapped?

I rushed out of the room, my still-aching body protesting with every step. I found Alessandra at the foot of the grand staircase, whimpering dramatically, her ankle twisted at an unnatural angle. Her dress was torn, her hair disheveled. "Oh, Cade!" she cried, her voice a theatrical sob. "She pushed me! She just came out of nowhere and pushed me down the stairs!"

Blaire stood at the top of the staircase, her face pale, her eyes blazing with a mixture of terror and fury. "I did not!" she yelled, her voice hoarse. "She tripped! She tried to grab me, and she tripped!"

My mind raced. Alessandra, dramatic and manipulative. Blaire, with her quiet strength, now pushed to the brink. Who to believe? But the image of Alessandra' s crumpled form, her cries, cemented my decision. She was my fiancée, my ticket to absolute power. Blaire was a liability.

I rushed to Alessandra's side, cradling her head. "Are you alright, darling?" I whispered, my voice laced with a concern that was partly genuine, partly for show. I looked up at Blaire, my eyes narrowed in a cold, unforgiving glare. "Blaire, what have you done?"

"I didn't do anything, Cade! She' s lying!" she cried, her voice cracking with desperation. "Look at the cameras! Check the security footage!"

Alessandra, still whimpering, lifted her head. "There are no cameras there, darling," she murmured, a triumphant glint in her tear-filled eyes. "Not on that landing. You know that."

My jaw clenched. She was right. There was a blind spot there, a small oversight in the estate's extensive security system. A deliberate oversight, now that I thought about it. Alessandra always knew the layout of the house better than anyone.

"Apologize, Blaire," I commanded, my voice cold and firm. "Apologize to Alessandra for your unhinged behavior."

Her eyes, once full of love, now held only a chilling contempt. "Apologize?" she scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Apologize for being the victim of her malicious lies? Never, Cade. Never!" She looked at me, a profound disappointment etched onto her face. "You disgust me."

Her words, so raw, so filled with hatred, pierced through my self-righteous anger. But it lasted only a moment. The shame of being publicly challenged, of having my authority questioned, fueled a fresh surge of fury.

"Fine," I hissed, my voice barely a whisper, but loaded with menace. "You want to be difficult? You want to play the victim? Then you will learn what true suffering is." My eyes hardened, the last vestiges of any lingering affection for her vanishing. "Get her out of my sight. Lock her away. And make sure she gets no medical attention, no food, no water. Let her rot."

The guards, who had been hovering nervously, moved in. Blaire didn't struggle this time. She simply looked at me, her eyes dead, devoid of all light. "You really are a monster, Cade," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "A heartless, pathetic monster."

I watched them drag her away, her words echoing in my ears. Monster. The word should have stung, should have filled me with remorse. But it didn't. Only a cold, empty satisfaction remained. I had made my choice. And she would pay the price.