Forced to Take the Blame, Reborn as Silverveil’s Royalty Chapter 09

Forced to Take the Blame, Reborn as Silverveil’s Royalty Chapter 09

I turned around and saw Lyra.

She was standing in the living room, dressed neatly enough, though her clothes were wrinkled and

her face looked drawn.

The hatred in her eyes was uglier than anything I had ever seen on her before.

“How did you get in here?”

“I have a key.” She smiled. “I used to be this family’s daughter too, remember?”

I said nothing.

She walked over and stopped in front of me, looking me up and down.

“Althea, you really are something.”

“Fake your death once, and suddenly Mom and Dad lose their minds over you. Now you’re all they care about. They’ve stopped caring about the firm, stopped caring about the pack, and just orbit around you all day. You must be loving this.”

I looked at her. “You think I’m loving this?”

“What else would I think?” she sneered. “Now you’re the precious one. You can have whatever you want. And me? I got thrown out of the pack, my reputation’s destroyed, and Ronan dumped me… Wasn’t all of that because of you?”

“Because of me?” I laughed. “Lyra, did you forget who has my wolf now? Who served those five years in prison in your place? And who ended up with the money I’d saved to stay alive?”

Her expression stiffened.

But the cold smile came back almost at once.

“So what? You had it coming. That’s what you get for being unlucky enough to be born into this family. My parents died saving your mother. Your whole family owed me from the start. This is what you should’ve paid back.”

I looked at her and, all at once, thought she looked pitiful.

She was just as pitiful as I was.

We had both been ruined by this obsession with repaying a debt of gratitude.

“Lyra, you’re hating the wrong person. I’m not the one who ruined you. They are.”

“They used that debt to turn you into someone who only knows how to take, and now they’ve

thrown you away just as easily.”

She froze.

“Just leave,” I said, turning back to the traffic below. “I don’t want to look at you.”

But she did not leave.

Instead, she walked over, pulled a fruit knife out of her pocket, and set it on the table beside me.

“Aren’t you trying to die?” she asked. “This is sharp. One cut, and it’ll be over fast.”

I looked at the knife.

Its silver blade gleamed cold in the moonlight.

“Why would you help me?” I asked.

“Help you?” She laughed, and the sound was all ice. “I’m helping myself. Once you’re dead, Mom and Dad will come back to me. Right now they’re just blinded by you. Once you’re gone, they’ll

remember which daughter is really worth loving.”

I understood.

She wanted me dead so she could take everything back.

“Fine.”

I picked up the knife.

The handle was cold.

I tightened my grip around it.

“Althea, Mom cut up some fruit for you…”

My mother’s voice drifted out from the kitchen.

Her footsteps were getting closer.

Lyra watched me, madness bright in her eyes.

She was waiting for me to die.

I lifted the knife and aimed it at my throat.

At that exact moment, the kitchen door opened.

My mother stepped out holding a fruit plate. The second she saw the knife in my hand, and Lyra

standing beside me, all the blood drained from her face.

“Althea! Don’t!”

The plate crashed to the floor, fruit rolling everywhere.

She lunged forward, tore the knife out of my hand, and flung it as far as she could.

Then she pulled me into her arms, her whole body shaking.

“What are you doing… what are you doing…”

She was crying so hard she could barely get the words out.

“Mom’s here. Mom’s here. Don’t do this. Please don’t do this…”

My father rushed out of the study too. The moment he saw the scene, he understood.

He turned to Lyra, and his eyes were colder than I had ever seen them.

“Did you give her that knife?”

Lyra froze. She clearly had not expected him to look at her like that.

“Dad, I just-”

“I asked you whether you gave her that knife!”

His voice rose so sharply it made her flinch.

Startled, she nodded before she could stop herself. “Yes, but

“Get out,” my father said.

Lyra stared at him. “Dad?”

“I said get out!” He pointed at her, his hand shaking. “From this moment on, you are not my daughter, and I am not your father. Get out!”

Why?!” Lyra–suddenly screamed.