Chapter 3

On day five of her countdown to death, Gemma was discharged from the hospital. She dragged her frail body out through the hospital, only to run straight into the person she least wanted to see. Theodore stood with his arm around Matilda beside the familiar black Maybach. His gaze was as cold as if he were looking at a complete stranger. "Get in," he commanded, his voice icy. "We're visiting my parents." Gemma's fingers clenched the hem of her clothes, her knuckles turning white. She knew all too well what awaited her. The car sped toward the cemetery on the outskirts of town. Throughout the ride, Matilda nestled against Theodore, giggling as she fed him pieces of fruit. Gemma sat in the front passenger seat, watching their intimacy through the rearview mirror. Each glance stirred a sharp ache in her chest. When they reached the cemetery entrance, Theodore stepped out first. Gemma moved to follow, but the sight before her froze her in place. From the entrance to the depths of the cemetery, the path was lined with burning coals. They glowed a menacing red under the sunlight. Theodore tightened his hold on Matilda, his voice as cold as ice. "Gemma, everyone in your family is to blame. Since your parents are dead, you will atone for their sins." He pointed at the bed of coals. "Crawl on your knees to my parents' graves and confess your sins. Make sure you ask for forgiveness properly." Gemma's legs trembled, but she knew refusing would only make things worse. The moment her knees met the burning coals, the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Agony shot through her, darkening her vision. She clenched her teeth and pushed herself forward. Behind her, the car's engine rumbled. Theodore's car followed at the slowest possible speed. With the window down, she could see him holding hands with Matilda and kissing her fingertips. Each crawl felt like her body was being branded on red-hot iron. By the time she reached the grave, her knees were mangled and raw, her palms charred black. Sweat and blood dripped onto the coals, hissing as they evaporated. When she finally crawled to the gravestone, Gemma was on the verge of passing out. Through her blurred vision, she saw Theodore standing before the grave with Matilda in his arms. "Mom, Dad, I've found the love of my life." His voice was unbelievably tender. "I brought her here specially to meet you both. I've also taken revenge on the enemies who killed you." Matilda stepped forward obediently, offering a bouquet of flowers. "Mr. and Mrs. Barre, don't worry. I'll take good care of Theodore." "Kneel!" Theodore suddenly turned to Gemma, his eyes cold once again. Gemma forced herself to bend down, her forehead slamming against the cold stone of the grave. "Get out of here!" he spat, wrapping an arm around Matilda as he turned and walked away. On the way back, it suddenly started pouring. Gemma dragged her battered body forward, moving one painful step at a time. With every step, the rain stung her wounded knees as it washed over them. By the time she finally crawled back to the villa, it was already dark. Theodore sat in the living room, flipping through documents. When he heard her enter, he looked up and saw her disheveled appearance. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes before he quickly returned to his usual cold indifference. "Tomorrow is Tilly's birthday," he said coolly, closing the file. "I'm throwing her a grand celebration. You'll handle the preparations." Gemma froze. "Make it just like the dream wedding you've always described," he added, a cruel smirk curling at the corners of his lips. Her heart clenched with pain. She had told him countless times about the wedding she'd dreamed of. There would be a champagne tower, white roses covering the entire hall, and a live band playing her favorite songs. Now, the wedding she'd yearned for was nothing more than a birthday party for Matilda. "Don't waste time." Theodore frowned and tossed her a tube of ointment. "There can't be any mistakes tomorrow." With that, he turned and left. The ointment clattered to the floor. Gemma picked it up and threw it into the trash. She dragged her battered body to start decorating the banquet hall, working through the night. Outside, the rain never stopped, just like her endless tears.