His for a year. - Chapter 46: Chapter 46

David?
It didn’t make sense. How could he have done this? Why would he?
I stood there, frozen, as the back door of the police car swung open.
The moment our eyes met, something in me broke—like a fracture that had been hiding under my skin, waiting for the final blow.
No, this couldn’t be real.
The world faded into a haze of white noise. People were talking—Ray, Zade, the officers—but I couldn’t hear them. I couldn’t feel my feet or the breeze or even my own body. Only the unbearable pressure crushing my chest.
Why?
My legs moved before my mind caught up. I walked toward him like I was being pulled by a magnet made of pain. And when I stopped in front of him, when I saw the fury and emptiness in his eyes, I knew.
There was no misunderstanding. No confusion. He had meant it.
Why would my own brother want me dead?
Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away, unwilling to fall apart—not yet.
I turned to Zade, voice shaky, almost a whisper. “Are you sure?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on mine. “The watch. The fingerprints. It’s all pointing to him.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
If this was true… then what did I ever do to deserve this?
Why would he try to kill me?
What did I ever do… except love him, despite everything?
David stood in sharp, horrifying focus. Unbothered.
I didn’t know how I was moving, but my legs carried me toward him. Slow. Hesitant. Like approaching a ghost I hadn’t finished grieving.
He didn’t look the same. Rougher. Gaunter. But those eyes—they were the same. Cold and sharp. Watching me with the same disdain I’d seen the night he trashed my room.
The moment I stopped in front of him, a tightness squeezed my chest. My voice barely found its way out.
“Why?” I asked, barely more than a whisper. “Why would you do this to me?”
He scoffed. “You always think everything’s about you, don’t you?”
I blinked, confused, my heart pounding. “You tried to kill me, David.”
“Oh please,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Don’t play the victim. You’ve always had that role wrapped around your fake little finger.”
“What—what did I do to you?” My voice cracked. “You disappeared, then you came back and hit me. You destroyed everything I owned. You took all of dad's love, made me clean up after you, but I still forgave you.”
He chuckled, bitter and humorless. “Forgive me? Bitch you think I wanted your forgiveness?”
My breath caught.
“You walk around acting like this perfect little angel. But look at you now,” he continued, venom dripping from every word. “Got yourself a rich husband, living in some glass castle, and suddenly you’re untouchable? Please. You think I didn’t see it all? You think I didn’t hear about it?”
He leaned forward, eyes burning with something I didn’t recognize—envy, madness, or both.
“You’re nothing, Olive. You were always nothing. Just a lucky little girl who tripped into money. I wanted to see you fall. I wanted you to hurt till I got enough.”
Each word hit like a blow to the stomach.
“But why?” I whispered again. “I was…”, I paused to catch my breath. “I am your sister.”
“You’re not,” he snapped. “You were never mine. Not after Mom and Dad started telling me to act like you. Even Aliyah started looking up to you. You stole my birthright. You ruined everything for me. So I returned the favor.”
That was the moment.
I didn't know when Zade left my side.
Faster than I’d ever seen.
One punch, solid, brutal. Landed square on David’s jaw with a sickening crack. David staggered, nearly falling onto the car beside him.
But Zade wasn’t done. He surged forward, fury in every breath. “You bastard!”
He lunged again, rage flooding his face—but Ray rushed in, grabbing his arms, and two officers moved in too, pulling David back, restraining him.
“He’s not worth it,” Ray muttered, breathing hard. “Not here. Not now.”
Zade was shaking. His chest heaving. But his eyes never left David’s.
David spat blood to the ground and grinned like he was proud of it.
Then he smirked, blood on his teeth. “Hit a nerve, huh? Can’t protect your little stripper wife from her own blood?”
“Say another word and I’ll finish what I started,” Zade growled, struggling in Ray’s hold.
The officers shoved David back into the car, locking the doors behind him.
I turned away, each step away from him heavier than the last.
I didn’t cry.
Not because it didn’t hurt—but because I was too hollow to grieve. Grief was for loss. This was something else. A betrayal so sharp, so unnatural, it robbed me of the right to feel anything. I had come looking for answers… but nothing could have prepared me for this truth. Not this.
My own brother hated me. Not just hated, he wanted me dead. Literally.
My knees wobbled, but Zade turned just in time, shrugging off Ray’s grip and catching me before I collapsed.
I pulled away from him and continued walking.
I couldn’t breathe. Not really. Couldn’t think beyond that one terrible truth—he had meant it. The hatred in his eyes hadn’t been a flare-up of rage. It had been there. Deep. Old. Rotting.
Why?
It echoed inside me like a drumbeat, over and over. Why would he hate me this much? Why wasn’t I enough? Why was my own blood the one who wanted to spill mine?
My body couldn’t stop trembling, not from fear, but from disbelief. Like my soul was rejecting the truth. Like if I shook hard enough, I’d wake up. But the pain was too sharp. Too real. My blood turned cold. My mind, racing but going nowhere.
I couldn’t feel my feet.
I don’t even remember walking up the stairs.
All I knew was that I was in Zade’s room again—my room now, apparently—staring at the wall, trying to breathe.
Trying to exist.
The door creaked open behind me.
I didn’t turn.
“Olive,” Zade’s voice was gentle, too gentle, like a whisper meant to hold broken things together. “I just wanted to check—”
“I’m fine,” I said. My voice was paper thin.
“No, you’re not.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, because he was right. My body was vibrating. My vision was off, sounds were delayed. My ears started ringing like a distant alarm.
I pressed my palms to my ears, trying to shut the sound out, but it only got louder. “Zade, please,” I choked. “Just go.”
“I can’t,” he said, stepping inside. “Not when you’re like this. It’s not safe to leave you alone.”
His words made something snap in me.
“Of course you can say that,” I spat, spinning around to face him. “It wasn’t your brother. It wasn’t your family who tried to erase you from the world.”
His expression cracked, but I didn’t stop.
“You don’t know how it feels to love someone who you spent half your lifetime with, only to find out they wanted you gone. Dead. Not just dead—erased.”
I was trembling now, my voice rising. “You can’t hold this together with your perfect words and expensive calm. You can't fix this!”
“Olive—”
“No!” I screamed. “Don’t ‘Olive’ me right now!”
He tried to come closer, arms outstretched, but I backed away.
When he stepped forward again, I snapped.
I swung at his chest—my fists thudding against him without rhythm. I shoved and kicked and clawed at the only thing within reach, the only thing that felt real. I didn’t want to hurt him. I just didn’t know where to put my pain.
“Why does it hurt this much?” I sobbed. “Why couldn’t he just stay gone?! Why couldn’t he just hate me from a distance?”
Zade said nothing. He just moved into my chaos, into my punches and panic, and wrapped his arms around me like a shield.
“No—let me go!” I cried, struggling against him.
But he didn’t.
He just held me tighter.
Tighter until my fight started to fade.
Until my legs gave out and I collapsed into him, sobbing against his chest, beating weak fists into his shirt until they fell still.
“I wish he’d killed me,” I whispered, tears soaking his collar. “Because this—this betrayal—feels worse.”
Zade’s voice was hoarse, breaking as he cradled me like glass. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that again.”
He rocked me slowly, like calming a storm. His cheek was against my hair, his hand stroking my spine in slow, steady circles.
“You survived,” he whispered. “You’re alive. And you’re not alone.”
I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to believe that love—even this strange, painful, complicated love—could be enough to carry me through.
But for now, all I could do was let him hold me as I unraveled.
And he did.
Without flinching, without letting go.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. Maybe minutes. Maybe years.
Eventually, my fists loosened from his shirt. My hands dropped to my sides. I was still crying, but quietly now. The kind of cry that happened when you had no more strength to fight the sadness—only enough to surrender to it.
He shifted us slowly, guiding me back to the bed. His arms held onto me. His chest stayed pressed to my back as he lay behind me again, one hand tangled gently in my fingers, the other resting over my heart like a silent vow.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered.
He didn’t ask what I meant. Maybe because he didn’t know either. Or maybe because he knew exactly what I meant.
“I’m not asking you to know,” he said softly. “I’m just asking you to let me stay.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see. Even though I wasn’t sure what staying meant anymore.
There was a pause, and then Zade’s voice—low, gravelly, but sure.
“I should have protected you better.”
I blinked, eyes still wet. My fingers curled tighter around his.
“I swear to you, Olive… whoever is behind this—whatever pieces are left–I won’t stop until they pay. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”
The confidence in his voice– furious and tender—made my throat tighten.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered. “Always. Even if you hate me tomorrow. Even if you run again.”
I wanted to speak. To tell him I didn’t hate him. That maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to run anymore. But the words tangled behind my lips.
Instead, I let myself rest against his chest. The rhythm of his heart, so steady, so alive, carried me further than any words could.
My eyes fluttered shut.
The tears didn’t stop—but they slowed.
And for the first time in a long time…
I fell asleep not feeling completely broken.