Chapter 26

Athena looked at Joseph with a cold, detached gaze, the barest hint of a smile on her lips. But the mockery in her eyes made Joseph flinch; he couldn’t even meet her stare.

“Lord Joseph, you sure have a selective memory. Skipping class to hang around brothels, picking fights—you’ve done it more than once. And every time, I took the blame and got punished in your place. Have you forgotten all of that?”

The duke’s estate was known for its strict discipline. Back when the old Duke was alive, he laid down harsh family rules: no indulgence, no arrogance. But Joseph, coddled by Eloise, broke all of them without consequence.

When they were younger, Athena had tried everything to win his favor. Every time he made a mistake, she’d cover for him.

Once, they were caught red-handed by Henry himself. Joseph didn’t hesitate—he threw her under the bus. She was punished and forced to bow for hours in the ancestral hall.

And the worst part? He could’ve pulled her out of it. But to protect Willow from being punished, he offered Athena up instead. It wasn’t the only time. There were countless others just like it.

And now, all he had to say was that she’d “suffered a little injustice.” But she wondered, “Why should I be the one to suffer? Because my life is worth less?”

That was the thing about giving too much for too long—people started to take it for granted. The moment you stopped, they acted like you’d wronged them.

Her accusations left both brothers speechless. The anger they came in with slowly filed out under the weight of her glare.

Matthew started to waver. He wondered, “Have I really misjudged her?”

Just then, a weak voice came from outside the room. “Joseph, Matthew… please don’t blame Athena, it’s all my fault… Nicolas was punished because of me. It had nothing to do with her.”

Willow’s voice made Athena’s brow tighten. She thought, “Is she here to plead for peace—or fan the flames?”

Sure enough, Matthew’s expression changed the moment she spoke.

The calm in his eyes turned sharp and cold again. He thought, “How could I let Athena sway me so easily?

Nicolas was still lying in bed, covered in blood and wounds. The proud heir of Henry’s house, beaten half to death—all because of Athena. He thought, “What a manipulative woman!”

“Apologize…” Matthew said coldly, fists clenched tight.

Whatever Athena said now, he wouldn’t believe a word of it.

She let out a low, mocking laugh. Of course. Every time Willow appeared, trouble followed. Willow really was her curse.

Athena felt drained—physically, emotionally. She didn’t want to say another word. She thought, “What is the point? No one listens.” She met Matthew’s eyes, her voice flat and distant, “If you have a problem, Lord Matthew, feel free to take it up with Henry.”

With that, she turned and ignored the three of them entirely. Her voice rang out clear and firm, “Aliza, see the guests out.”

Aliza cast a nervous glance at Matthew. His handsome face was dark with anger, and she didn’t dare speak.

As Athena turned to walk back into her room, she brushed past Matthew—only for him to suddenly grab her arm and yank her back. She’d barely been steady on her feet, and the force of it sent her stumbling hard to the floor.

“Ah-“ The cry didn’t come from Athena, but from Willow.

Her voice trembled with panic and the edge of tears, drowning out Athena’s muffled grunt. “Athena, are you alright?”

She reached out to help her, but Athena swatted her hand away with a sharp flick of her sleeve.

Willow staggered back as if shoved by some invisible force and collapsed to the ground herself.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she bit her lip hard, refusing to let them fall. Forcing a shaky smile, she turned to Matthew and said, “It’s alright… I just lost my balance. It had nothing to do with Athena.”

The maid behind them turned pale with shock and rushed forward to help. Willow managed to stand with her support, only to lose her balance again and fall back to the ground.

The tear that had been clinging to her lashes finally fell—plop—hitting the floor like a pin drop in a tense room, and right onto Matthew’s nerves. He noticed immediately—she was holding her ankle, her face paper white with pain, yet still trying to smile at him through it.

He thought, “She must’ve twisted it.”

His fury, already boiling, finally exploded. With no hesitation, Matthew stepped forward and kicked Athena square in the chest, roaring, “Wretched woman! I actually felt sorry for you for a second. Three years, and you still haven’t learned a thing. Still this cruel?”

“If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it. Willow came over to help you, and you shoved her away? You’re heartless, Athena—truly heartless!” Joseph, long simmering with frustration, finally found a target and let loose with satisfaction.

Matthew practiced martial arts, and the force behind his kick was no joke. It hit hard like a boulder.

Athena felt like her insides had been turned upside down. A wave of blood rushed up her throat, bitter and metallic. No matter how hard she tried to swallow it down, it burst from her lips in a hot, red spray.

Matthew was taken aback. He hadn’t thought he kicked her that hard. He remembered her being tough as nails back in the day—never got sick, barely caught a cold.

He thought of those freezing winters. While Willow bundled up in thick fox fur cloaks, Athena would be out in just a thin cotton coat.

He’d once asked her if she was cold. Her cheeks had been pink from the chill, but she’d grinned at him and said, “Nope.”

“You’re pulling this old trick again?” Joseph sneered. “You used to hold orange juice in your mouth to fake vomiting blood and scare Ma. Still using the same tired routine after all these years?”

Athena’s vision was spinning, dark spots creeping in at the edges, but she held herself upright through sheer will.

She wiped the blood from her mouth, her eyes defiant as she glared at him. “That trick you’re talking about? You were the one who told me to use it. You’d ditch class, get caught, and drag me down with you.

“You told me to pretend to cough up blood so people would pity us. Now you want to act like it was all me?”

Joseph’s expression twisted. “Can’t believe you’re still holding onto stuff from that long ago. You really are petty.”

“Oh, and you’re any better?” Athena snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, you idiot.”

Joseph gave an angry grunt and shut his mouth.

In the background, Willow’s soft sobs continued, getting under Athena’s skin, when pointed toward the door. “Get out. All of you.”

Matthew looked like he wanted to argue, but Willow tugged at his sleeve, her voice tearful and trembling. “Joseph, don’t hit Athena again. I am scared.”

She curled into herself like a frightened kitten, trembling as if the world had just collapsed around her.

That helpless act tugged hard at Matthew’s heart. Both girls were his sisters—but the way they treated him couldn’t have been more different.

Humiliation flared in his chest. His eyes fell on the table behind Athena.

She saw the shift in his gaze and moved to stop him, but it was too late.

With a thunderous crack, the table shattered into splinters. Jars and bottles crashed to the ground, their contents spilling everywhere—completely ruined.

Athena stared at the mess, her heart crumbling along with it.

Those had been the medicine pills she’d painstakingly prepared for Margaret. So even while she was away, Margaret would still have enough. Just seven more days' worth, and the treatment would’ve been complete.

She never let anyone near that table. And now, it was all gone—destroyed by Matthew in a fit of rage.