Chapter 3 No More Apologies

Sydney's sudden heart attack threw the Larks into chaos. Whatever thoughts Bastian had about talking to Azalea were instantly forgotten. Matthias, on the other hand, let his emotions spiral. In his eyes, Sydney's condition was entirely Azalea's fault—first pushing her down the stairs with malicious intent, then using that fake apology to further torment her, stirring up so much emotional distress it triggered her illness. Upstairs in her room, Azalea lay on her bed while Sydney had already been rushed to the hospital. The guests who came to the banquet were being quietly ushered out by the butler. The new school year was just two days away. Since she'd decided not to pursue arts anymore, it was time to contact her teacher and return to her original academic class. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice—never again would she be the stepping stone beneath Sydney's climb to fame and glory. In her past life, Sydney didn't have the grades to get into Jubilee. At the same time, Azalea had secured automatic admission through a prestigious national art competition. The Larks had forced her to take the test for Sydney—even though it meant sacrificing her own future. Maybe Sydney got lucky, or maybe Azalea had been too capable. Against all odds, they pulled it off. But that was only the beginning. After entering university, Sydney was credited with everything Azalea achieved. Every time she tried to resist, the Larks cut off her financial support, leaving her helpless. That's why, in this life, her first goal was to make her own money. Once she had financial independence, she could finally take her first real step forward. And honestly, she was curious—could Sydney still become the internationally acclaimed 'genius artist' she was in their last life without her? With her eyes closed, exhaustion finally caught up with her. Azalea slowly drifted into sleep. She was awakened hours later by sharp, cramping pain in her stomach. Her face turned ghostly pale, sweat dripping from her forehead like rain, each drop soaking into the sheets. It hurt so much. Gritting her teeth, she struggled out of bed to reach the painkillers in the drawer. After years of being underfed and neglected in the Larks, she'd developed a severe gastric condition. She had forgotten—today, she'd been ordered to stick by Sydney's side all day, 'protecting' her. She hadn't even had a single bite to eat. With the main family members gone for dinner, not a single maid cared whether she starved. Before she could find the meds, a sharp knock pounded on the door like a death sentence. A maid stood there to inform her that her father had told her she needed to go to the hospital and apologize to Sydney. Clutching her stomach, Azalea climbed into the car. By now, the pain had numbed her, her face as pale as a ghost. Another apology. How many sins did she supposedly owe Sydney? What does she want to do this time? She leaned against the car window, eyes closed. Whatever Sydney wanted from her this time—it didn't matter. She had nothing left to give anyway. Dragging her feet down the hospital corridor, she finally reached Sydney's room. She pushed the door open—only to be met with a vicious slap across the face. "You heartless brat! Can't stand to see your sister doing well, huh?" The man in the crisp, tailored suit looked refined, but the rage in his dark eyes betrayed every ounce of that elegance. To him, Azalea wasn't a daughter—just a mortal enemy. "Cough." Azalea slowly straightened, touched the side of her stinging face, and tasted blood in her mouth. This man was her father—Wesley. Behind him stood her second brother, Matthias, his gaze just as cold. "If anything happens to Sydney, I won't forgive you!" Sydney lay on the hospital bed, nestled in Bastian's arms, gazing at Azalea with a pained, sorrowful expression. Azalea laughed under her breath. So that's why she'd been summoned. In her past life, her father had missed Sydney's big day because of an important business meeting. Already consumed with guilt, he came home to rumors that Azalea had pushed Sydney. Furious, he dragged out the family whip and beat her half to death. Then, he officially announced her inheritance now belonged to Sydney. She didn't know exactly what had happened this time, but it wasn't hard to guess. It was all playing out the same way—using her to soothe Sydney's fragile little ego. But the reality was ... "What exactly did I do?" Azalea asked, looked straight at the man who claimed to be her father. Had she crippled Sydney? Maimed her? Everyone demanded apologies—but for what crime? Wesley's rage deepened. "What kind of attitude is that? Watch your tone!" He felt his authority being challenged and, without a word, raised his hand to slap her again. Azalea didn't know where the strength came from. Despite the searing pain in her gut, she reached up and caught his wrist. "Did I say anything wrong? Matthias, Bastian—did either of you actually see me push Sydney down the stairs? No! You just assumed it happened, so it must be true. You didn't even bother checking the stairwell cameras!" Her voice rose to a near scream, a release of all the pain and injustice she'd bottled up for so long. Maybe Azalea had always been the type to endure silently, to cry, and apologize. But now, her fire left them stunned. "You still didn't take proper care of Sydney! That's your fault, too!" Matthias roared. How dare she still argue? "And that apology you gave—was that some kind of trick? You brought out those gifts just to trigger her heart attack, didn't you?!" His chest heaved. He was furious. "Apologize!" Wesley barked, face dark with wrath. "I've discussed it with your brothers. Your inheritance share goes to Sydney." Still nestled in Bastian's arms, Sydney tried weakly to sit up. "No, don't. Dad, I'm fine. This isn't Azalea's fault. Just an apology is enough." See? So gracious. So forgiving. Azalea nearly laughed out loud. If she apologized now, then the crime of 'hurting Sydney' would stick to her for life. "Shut up!" Azalea snapped, staring coldly at Sydney. There would be no apology. Dream on. "Take care of Sydney? What am I, her mom? Her maid? She's an adult—why should I be held responsible for every second of her day? Where exactly does that obligation come from?" She let go of her stomach, her spine straighter than it had been in days. Bastian hesitated. He noticed the strange pallor on Azalea's face and was about to step in to defuse the situation. But Azalea didn't give him a chance. "Even if Sydney was scared because of me, even if I didn't take good care of her—didn't I bring out all those valuable gifts to make amends? Yet, I'm still wrong? You all don't find that ridiculous? "Why did you even bring me back to this family in the first place?" Everyone knew they were biased. But they could not maintain their proud faces when Azalea said it aloud. "Go check the cameras. If it really was me who pushed Sydney down the stairs, don't just make me apologize—take my life for hers, I don't care!" That shut Sydney up in an instant. She'd always been confident her parents and brothers would side with her no matter what. That's why she never worried about consequences. But suppose anyone actually looked at the footage. In that case, they'd see it clearly: the second she heard her brothers coming, she flung herself down the stairs. "No need for that!" Sydney's voice jumped several pitches in panic. Realizing her mistake, she quickly clutched her chest, bit her lip, and softened her voice. "Everyone, you've already done so much for me. Checking the footage would just be too much trouble. Let's just say I fell by accident." Matthias, seeing her fragile act, immediately melted. "Nothing about you is ever too much trouble." Wesley frowned, eyes full of disappointment as he looked at Azalea. "We just didn't expect you to become like this." She'd heard those exact words in her past life—so many times, they were etched into her bones. Her stomach felt like it was on fire. The pain was unbearable. Sweat drenched her temples. Azalea squinted toward Bastian. His mouth was moving, but all she could hear was a loud, high-pitched ringing. Her vision went black. And she collapsed on the floor. Bastian's heart jumped into his throat. Just as he was about to suggest checking the camera footage, Azalea passed out cold. "Azalea!" he shouted in panic. Without sparing Sydney another glance, he rushed to her side and lifted her into his arms. Then he turned to Wesley and said coldly, "Dad, I think we should check the security footage."