Chapter 296

Macro froze, his brain buzzing one second and blank the next. He stared at Sebastian, eyebrows scrunching up as he said, “If he’s still alive, why hasn’t he even tried reaching Sofia all this time?”

Sebastian just looked back, not saying a word. Why? The question sat there, heavy. For a split second, Sebastian’s eyes darkened, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.

It was quiet in the room, with wind sneaking through the cracks, whistling faintly. That weird call—it was Caitlin again, dialing Stephanie from yet another borrowed phone. God knows how many phones the Hart family had burned through by now. Their own phones had been blocked, yup, all of them.

When Caitlin’s voice came through, it was wild and rough. “He’s your brother! How can you be so cold about this?”

“Stephanie, what’s your heart even made of—ice? You’re fine letting your own brother lose his hands? You—” Her voice shook hard, like she was about to lose it. She’d already passed out once from pure rage. Now she was back, and her anger was blazing hotter than ever. The second the call picked up, she let loose, hurling accusations like a storm.

Stephanie’s eyes narrowed just a bit, but her voice stayed cool, almost flat. “Icy heart or not, how would you know? None of you ever bothered trying to warm it up.”

People always said a cold heart couldn’t soften—but they had never given hers a shot. The Hart family sure hadn’t. They’d never come close, not even a little. Instead, they’d shown her from day one how chilly family ties could really be.

Caitlin gritted her teeth, her voice snapping through the phone. “You—”

Stephanie didn’t let her finish. “Tyler knows damn well why his hands are messed up.”

“Stephanie!” Caitlin’s voice spiked, loud and sharp. The anger in her chest was bursting out.

Leaning against the wall, Stephanie kept going, totally unfazed. “After Olivia got sent overseas, he came after me more than once. You knew that, right?”

Caitlin went quiet. It hitched, like someone had grabbed her by the neck. “What’d you say?” she asked, her voice wobbling.

Stephanie kept her tone light. “That time I almost got snatched—you called it me being paranoid. But you knew it was Tyler, didn’t you? Just wanted to cover for him.”

Stephanie’s tone was breezy. Her words hit harder, though, making Caitlin gasp loud enough to hear. “How did you…?” Caitlin stumbled, words tangling up.

“How did I know?” Stephanie finished for her, a little smirk creeping in. From Caitlin’s rattled tone, Stephanie could tell she’d nailed it.

The Hart family, she thought with a quiet, bitter laugh. Same old crap.

She let out a soft chuckle, dripping with sarcasm. “Makes sense, though. If you’d protect an adopted daughter like that, of course you’d go harder for your own son.”

Caitlin scrambled to argue. “No, it’s not like that! Yeah, he screwed up that one time, but I laid into him after, I swear—”

Stephanie cut her off, eyes going cold. “And if I’d gotten taken that day, what would’ve happened to me?”

She couldn’t stand hearing more of Caitlin’s excuses—her ears were already buzzing. Laid into him? It was not like Tyler was five, and a quick yell could fix it all.

“And it wasn’t just once, was it? Even after all your ‘talks’?” she added, her voice icy.

Caitlin’s breathing sped up, getting shallow, like she was choking on the silence. Stephanie didn’t stop. “When I called the cops, you guys pulled strings to hush it up, didn’t you?”

Caitlin had nothing to say. The line went dead quiet—eerie quiet. Even the gentle breeze in the room seemed to hold still.

Stephanie’s voice dropped, calm but firm. “And you still think I should stick up for him now? Save those hands that should’ve been toast a long time ago?”

She’d made peace with that idea ages back—they should’ve been gone way before today. Truth is, they’d already been smashed once. By her. It was after she called the cops and figured out nothing was gonna happen. The Hart family had buried it, no questions asked.

That same night, when Tyler staggered out of a bar into the dark, she was ready. He’d barely hit the sidewalk when she yanked a sack over his head and bashed his hands with a baseball bat, right then and there.

Back in Fiorenza, under Sebastian’s wing, she’d been this fragile little thing—like a gust of wind could knock her down. But after the Casalini mess, after she ditched Fiorenza, she toughened up quick. She learned to take the world straight on. Dumping every bit of that old softness, she kept telling herself she had to survive, to watch her own back—at least until Sebastian showed up, she’d be standing tall.

And she did. She’d held it together with her own two hands, all the way to now. As for the people who screwed her over? She hit back at every single one.