Conspiracy​

1 The day before my wedding, I was assaulted on my way home. They found me with a shattered spine and a face slashed to ribbons. My fiancé's family, the Daltons, called off the engagement immediately. My father held my broken body, sobbing, and promised to care for me forever. My brother Joel gathered top surgeons to reconstruct my face. But as I drifted in and out of consciousness before surgery, I overheard their monstrous conversation. "We've already crippled Lila and ruined her face so Jenna can marry into the Dalton family," Joel whispered, doubt in his voice. "Now we're hiring brutes to violate her? Isn't this too far?" "What do you know?" my father replied coldly. "Jenna is infertile. I promised to remove every obstacle for her. Lila has a rare fertile constitution. If we don't break her completely, how will she agree to be a surrogate? Carrying Jenna's heirs is the only use for her now." The man I called father, the brother I adored—they were demons in human skin. My world turned to ash. With a steady hand, I called the one man in the capital rumored to have fertility issues—the titan Damien Blackwood. "Do you want a dynasty?" I whispered. "Marry me." … Joel hesitated. "Dad, Lila's injuries are severe. Shouldn't we let the surgeons operate first? We can't let her be paralyzed for life. Jenna is marrying into the Dalton family the day after tomorrow anyway. Lila's not a threat anymore. The baby thing can wait..." My father's face hardened, and the sharp crack of his hand across Joel's cheek echoed in the quiet room. "You fool! I never planned on letting her walk again. What if we heal her and she runs? What if she escapes where we can't find her? What becomes of Jenna then?" "And why shouldn't it be urgent? The Dalton heir had too much to drink tonight and spent the night with Jenna. The Daltons have made it clear: if Jenna produces an heir, they'll hand over control of the household to her. All these years, she's had to pretend to be the housekeeper's daughter. She's suffered enough. I have to make it up to her." He continued, his voice softening with concern, but not for me. "And it was Jenna's first time. She must have been scared and in pain. Have the medical team take good care of her. As for Lila... we'll keep her fed. A breeding tool doesn't need legs. A womb is enough." Joel’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. "But it was Lila's first time too. And... all those men... can her body even take it?" My father gently wiped a smear of blood from my cheek, his touch a vile mockery of affection. His voice was resolute. "The specialist said Lila is exceptionally fertile. I've calculated her cycle. Tonight, we need a guaranteed result. More men... might even mean multiple births. That would secure Jenna's future even more." "Tell those men to be thorough. Once the children are born, I might consider fixing her face. A reward from her father... Now, go get the aphrodisiacs. I don't want her struggling and screaming, attracting unwanted attention." Beneath the thin hospital blanket, my fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Jenna wasn't the housekeeper's daughter. She was my father's illegitimate child. My "attack" wasn't random. It was a meticulously crafted trap, set by the two men I loved most, all to pave the way for their true treasure. It all made a sickening kind of sense now. Why my father brought Jenna into our home the moment my mother was in the ground. Why every business trip ended with two sets of gifts, with Jenna’s always being more extravagant than mine. "Lila, you're the heiress," they would say. "Jenna's had a harder life. We need to take extra care of her." And I, like a fool, never once doubted them. I thought my family was noble, kind. What a joke. Tears escaped my eyes, tracing fiery paths into the open wounds on my face. The sting made me gasp. My father immediately bent over me, gathering me into his arms, his face a perfect mask of heartbreak. "Lila, you're awake? Does it hurt? Seeing you like this... it's tearing my heart out. Don't you worry, the medical team is here. I'll have them start the surgery right away. I swear, I'll make you as beautiful as you were before." Joel rushed over, motioning for a nurse to bring a syringe. "Don't be scared, little sister. This is the good stuff, imported. I won't let you feel another moment of pain." Their performance was flawless. If I hadn't heard their conversation, I would have wept with gratitude. I stared at the needle, its gauge thicker than a nail. I knew exactly what was inside. "No," I managed to rasp. "No anesthetic. The pain... it can't get any worse. I don't care." My father's eyes welled up with theatrical tears, but his hand closed around the syringe Joel offered. "My sweet, foolish girl. You might not care, but I do. Who has surgery without anesthesia? You'd die from the pain. I'd rather die myself. Think of your mother's spirit... how heartbroken she would be. Be good, now. It'll be over soon." Without another word, he plunged the needle into the vein in my neck. The drug acted fast. A leaden paralysis spread through my limbs, stealing my strength, my voice. "Good girl, Lila," he cooed. "We're going to get the doctors now. When the surgery is over, we'll all go home." But I knew. They weren't fetching doctors. They were summoning demons. The stench of sweat and a tearing agony consumed me, and my world faded to black. When I opened my eyes, it was the next day. My father was holding my hand, his eyes red and swollen. "Lila, my poor girl. That monster... I didn't know he had accomplices. They disguised themselves as doctors to get to you, to finish the job. It's my fault. I failed to protect you." Joel stood beside him, his face a mask of grief. "Don't worry, sis. I've already made sure those men were sent to prison. No one will ever hurt you again." I watched their charade, numb, clinging to one last, desperate hope. "Father," I whispered, "I'm... highly fertile. Please, can you give me some birth control pills? Don't make me carry the child of a monster. I'm begging you." The gentle façade on my father's face cracked. His expression darkened. "Lila. Those pills are for promiscuous girls who shirk responsibility. You are an Ashford. Our family name is everything. If word got out... what would people say?" Joel chimed in. "He's right, Lila. You're so badly injured, and those pills are terrible for your body. We can't risk it. And if... if you are pregnant, we'll raise the child. A child is innocent. I'll be the best uncle in the world. It'll be nice to have a baby in the house." How utterly absurd. They didn't want the world to think I was promiscuous, yet they were forcing me to bear an illegitimate child in secret. Perhaps sensing his harshness, my father's tone softened again. "Lila, don't worry. I promise, I will get you the best care and make you whole again." He paused. "It's just... the surgical team had a sudden emergency. They had to leave. And I don't trust anyone else with your face, your recovery. We might have to wait a little while..." I knew what he was doing. He was stalling, letting the optimal window for treatment pass. He wanted me to be permanently crippled, a prisoner in his house, reduced to nothing more than Jenna's personal incubator. These were the men I had loved and respected my entire life, and their hearts belonged to an illegitimate child. "It's fine," I said, my voice flat. "I wasn't expecting much anyway. I don't want to be here anymore. Take me home." But when we arrived, my bedroom was unrecognizable. The familiar linens were gone, replaced by blood-red silk. The walls were covered in celebratory banners and balloons. It was decorated like a bride's chamber on the eve of her wedding. My eyes scanned the room and landed on my nightstand. The only photograph I had of my mother and me was gone. In its place was a large, framed wedding portrait of Jenna. When my mother discovered my father's affair, she had locked herself away and, in a fit of grief, burned everything that reminded her of their life together before dying of a broken heart. I had pulled that single photo from the embers of the fire. It was the last piece of her I had left. Jenna appeared in the doorway. Her eyes flickered meaningfully toward my stomach before she linked arms with my father and Joel. "Dad! Joel! You're back! Thank you for decorating my room, it's gorgeous. Getting married from here the day after tomorrow... I'll be the happiest bride in the world." She held out a crumpled, sodden ball of paper. "Oh, Lila," she said, her voice dripping with false remorse. "Dad said that since my wedding is a happy occasion, we shouldn't have any unlucky things around. He asked me to move your mother's picture to the storage room... but I'm so clumsy. I accidentally dropped it in a bucket of water. Please, don't be mad at me." My hand trembled as I took the pulp from her. It was my photo, soaked for so long it had disintegrated into mush. I looked at my father. A flicker of guilt crossed his face before it was gone. "It's just a picture, Lila. Not that important. What's done is done. Jenna didn't mean it." "And Lila," he continued, avoiding my gaze, "I know the Daltons broke the engagement with you, but the business alliance between our families must continue. So, I've officially adopted Jenna. She'll be marrying in your place. We'll let her use your bedroom for now. We can't have her getting married out of a guest room. Her in-laws would look down on her. It's all for the future of the Ashford family..." I closed my eyes. "Do as you wish, Father," I said softly. "I'm tired. I'm going to rest." As I wheeled myself into the guest room, I heard peals of laughter from downstairs. I guided my wheelchair to the door and peered out. There they were: my father, my brother, and Jenna, huddled together on the sofa, flipping through three thick photo albums, their faces alight with joy. It was a perfect family portrait. The first album was a chronicle of Jenna's life, from infancy to adulthood, every picture taken by my father or Joel. They had never once taken a photo of me. That's what professional photographers are for, they used to say. Why would we bother with that? The second album was filled with pictures of the three of them together. So that's where they went all those times Jenna supposedly went back to visit her "hometown" while they were away on "business." They were traveling the world together. And the third album... it was filled with photos of Jenna's deceased mother. The mistress. My father caressed the images, his touch full of a love I had never seen him show my own mother. He pulled Jenna into his arms. "Jenna, my dear, I will treasure these photos of your mother forever. I'll take them to my grave. I am eternally grateful to her for giving me a daughter as wonderful as you." "And don't you worry," he whispered. "Those men were with Lila all night. She's definitely pregnant. As soon as that baby is born, I'll have it brought to you. No one in the Dalton family will ever dare to bully you." Even Joel looked moved. "I have to thank her too," he said, "for giving me a sister as amazing as Jenna." Watching the raw adoration on their faces, the wad of paper pulp in my hand felt like a cruel joke. Mother, you loved the wrong man. You gave birth to the wrong son. And I... I gave my love and respect to the wrong father and brother. Back in the guest room, I reached into a hidden compartment in the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of pills. My mother had taught me this. She had worried about my fertility, about the dangers of the world. Sometimes, bad things happen that are out of your control, she'd told me. If you can't protect yourself in the moment, you must do everything you can to mitigate the damage after. I swallowed a pill, then dialed the number for the one man who could help me. The titan from the capital, Damien Blackwood, rumored to be the sole heir to a dynasty, desperate for children. "Do you want a dynasty?" I asked. "Marry me." The next morning, my father had a lavish breakfast prepared for me, filled with supplements and herbs. I looked down at the spread, a bitter smile on my lips. Every single item was meant to support a pregnancy. He was sparing no expense to pave Jenna's path to glory. He was about to be sorely disappointed. My father and Joel were supposed to accompany Jenna to her final wedding dress fitting, but she pouted. "Daddy, Joel, you're men. Your taste isn't the same as a girl's. Why don't we bring Lila along? She can give me her opinion. It'll show everyone what impeccable taste my sister has, don't you think?" My father beamed. "Of course, of course! Anything to make my Jenna happy. Lila, you'll go with them." He never asked me. He never considered the courage it would take for a disfigured girl in a wheelchair, her body a canvas of fresh trauma, to step out in public. The stares were like a thousand tiny knives. But he didn't care. Only Jenna's happiness mattered. At the exclusive bridal salon, the staff fawned over Jenna. "It's the Crimson Rose of New York City! An Ashford heiress, just as beautiful as they say. What a face, what a figure! You must be so proud to have a daughter and sister like her." Then they saw me. They recoiled, their faces twisting in disgust. "My God, who is that... that cripple? That hideous thing? Look at her face, it's disgusting. I'm going to have nightmares. How dare she show herself next to Miss Ashford? It's like beauty and the beast, hahaha..." "So unlucky. Imagine having the nerve to go out in public looking like that. She's tainting the floor. We'll have to disinfect everything after she leaves." The whispers grew louder. Jenna shot me a triumphant smirk. Of course. This salon, normally known for its quiet, luxurious privacy, was swarming with staff today. It was her doing. She wanted me to suffer this humiliation. My father and brother didn't defend me. They were too busy basking in the glow of the compliments directed at Jenna, smiling with pride whenever someone called her the Ashford heiress. Jenna tried on more than a dozen gowns. She never once asked for my opinion. My father, unwilling to see her struggle to choose, simply waved his hand and bought them all, including several one-of-a-kind creations by world-renowned designers. But that wasn't enough for her. She pouted again. "The dresses are beautiful, but I don't have enough jewelry to match all of them..." Joel immediately had dozens of jewelry sets brought in. Nothing was worth less than seven figures. The most expensive piece, a flawless pink diamond ring, was valued at over two hundred million dollars. It was all for Jenna's dowry. On top of that, my father produced a stack of property deeds and stock transfer certificates, all to be added to her wedding gifts. The purchase dates on the properties were from twenty years ago. He had been planning this for decades. I glanced down at the simple ring on my hand. It was worth a few thousand dollars, a gift from my mother when she was still alive. It was the only piece of jewelry I owned. She had wanted to start a dowry for me, but my father had stopped her. "Lila's still young," he'd said. "Buying her such expensive things now will spoil her. A cheap little thing to play with is fine. We can talk about real jewelry when she actually gets married." When my engagement to the Daltons was announced, they never mentioned a dowry for me. The Daltons had been furious, calling me a calculating gold-digger. Jenna squealed with delight, planting kisses on my father's and Joel's cheeks. "I knew it! Daddy and Joel love me the most! But... won't giving me all these wonderful gifts make Lila angry?" Only then did they seem to remember I was there. My father cleared his throat. "Lila, don't overthink this. Jenna is an Ashford now. If we don't provide a substantial dowry, the Daltons will laugh at us. When you get married, we'll..." Jenna cut him off. "Daddy's right! And I can't possibly wear all these dresses. Why don't I give one to my sister? I know she'll probably never get to be a bride now, but she can hang it in her room and pretend. It'll be fun! I'll take her to try one on right now." My father's face filled with pride. "See? My Jenna is so generous and thoughtful. Lila, you're lucky to have a sister like her. Go on, you two." Before I could refuse, Jenna grabbed the handles of my wheelchair and pushed me into a fitting room. She dismissed the staff, and the moment the door clicked shut, her hand flew out, smacking me hard across the face. "Lila Ashford, who do you think you are?" she hissed, her face a contorted mask of rage. "You're used-up trash, a broken toy they let others play with. Crippled, disfigured, and you still have the audacity to want gifts from my father and brother? You are pathetic." "Let me make this crystal clear. Your fiancé is mine. Your father's heart is mine. Your brother's love is mine. They destroyed you for me. They let those men violate you for me. You used to be so high and mighty, didn't you? The 'Crimson Rose of New York City'? What a joke. Look at you now. You're nothing but a breeding machine to help me secure my position with the Daltons." Her voice dripped with venom. "We're both his daughters. Why did you get to be the precious heiress while I had to hide in the shadows, the dirty little secret? I hated it!" "And I'm not afraid to tell you the truth. There's nothing wrong with my body. The infertility was a lie I told to manipulate them. I wanted to ruin you, to take your place, to claim everything that should have been mine. So you just focus on growing that little bastard in your belly. After it's born, I'll arrange for a little... accident. And then I'll have Dad find more men to keep you company. Hahahaha..." "Oh, and you probably don't know this," she sneered, pulling out her phone. "Dad and Joel installed a hidden camera in the operating room. They were afraid I'd be bored, so they live-streamed the whole night to me. Tsk, tsk. It was quite a show. I bet I could sell the footage online for a pretty penny." She showed me the screen. The images, the sounds... I was plunged back into that nightmare, my body shaking uncontrollably. Why? Why would my own father and brother do this to me? I lunged, trying to snatch the phone, but she stepped back, laughing. She grabbed a decorative vase from a nearby pedestal and smashed it on the floor. Then, with a defiant smirk, she picked up a shard of porcelain. The next second, she dragged the sharp edge across her own arm. A line of red welled up, and she let out a piercing scream. My father burst into the room. "Jenna! What happened? You're bleeding!" He wrapped his arms around her, his eyes immediately flying to me, full of accusation. Joel was more direct. He stormed over and kicked my wheelchair over, sending me sprawling to the floor. "Lila! Did you do this to her?!" Before I could speak, Jenna burst into tears. "I... I just wanted to ask Lila to be my maid of honor... but she said I stole her fiancé and she was going to ruin my face so I could never get married! I put my arm up to block her... Daddy, I'm so scared! Just because I was born illegitimate, does that mean my own sister gets to treat me like this?" My father's voice was ice. "Who said you're illegitimate? You are the rightful heiress of the Ashford family. Some venomous, evil-hearted woman is the one who doesn't deserve to be my daughter!" Joel glared down at me. "Lila, you're the one who failed! You were careless, you got attacked, and you got the Dalton engagement canceled! You brought shame on this family! What does any of that have to do with Jenna? She stepped up to save our family's alliance with the Daltons, and you repay her by trying to disfigure her? What right do you have?!" I laughed, a broken, hollow sound, and then the tears came. "I failed? Why was I attacked? Why was I defiled? Do you dare tell the truth?!" My father scowled. "What truth? The truth is you had a stroke of bad luck that nearly ruined this family's future! We're not even holding the bastard in your belly against you, and this is the gratitude you show? Stop making excuses and apologize to Jenna right now!" This was my father. The man whose blood ran in my veins. My heart died. I reached for a piece of the broken vase and, without hesitation, dragged it across my own ravaged cheek. The wounds, not yet healed, tore open again, blood streaming down my face. "Lila, you—" My father and Joel stared, their eyes wide with shock. "Mr. Ashford, you're right," I said, my voice dripping with scorn. "The great Miss Ashford is a selfless saint. How could I possibly harm her? My deepest apologies. I've repaid her tenfold now. Are you satisfied?" I dropped the shard and righted my wheelchair, pushing myself out of the room. Hearing me call him "Mr. Ashford" seemed to rattle them, a flicker of panic in their eyes. But they didn't follow me. They rushed to Jenna's side, scooping her up and racing for the hospital. The exhaust from their car billowed in my face, choking me, making my eyes stream. So be it. From this day forward, we were strangers. My father flew in a team of elite plastic surgeons from Europe to ensure the scratch on Jenna's arm wouldn't leave a scar. He hired an internationally acclaimed makeup artist to make her the most beautiful bride imaginable. The next day, my phone rang. It was him. "Lila, how's your face? We were wrong yesterday, we shouldn't have said those things to you. But it's Jenna's wedding day. If her face were scarred, it would be difficult to explain to the Daltons. You just rest and focus on the pregnancy. Be a good girl and have the baby, and I promise I'll take care of both of you." "And don't worry, Jenna's fine. She's already forgiven you. She still wants you to be her maid of honor. Joel's on his way to pick you up. After the wedding, I'll find someone to fix your face. I'll make you beautiful again, just like before." Even now, after everything, he still saw me as nothing more than an incubator for Jenna. "Okay, Father," I said. "I understand." "That's my good girl. See you at the wedding." I hung up the phone, a cold smile touching my lips as I wheeled myself out of the Ashford mansion for the last time. My dear father, my beloved brother. Let's hope we never meet again in this lifetime. At the wedding reception, my father found himself thinking of my blood-streaked face from the day before, a strange unease settling in his stomach. He turned to his assistant. "I bought Jenna a hundred vials of that expensive scar cream yesterday. Go get one and give it to Lila when she arrives." Just as he finished speaking, Joel burst into the hall, his face pale as death, clutching his phone. "Dad," he gasped. "Lila knows everything we did to her. She’s gone!"

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