[Narrator's POV ]
Brother ! brother!, brother!,
Sophie roared as soon as she entered the mansion.
What's wrong, sis? Why are you shouting my name? Samson asked descending the stairs like an emperor, It's barbaric for a girl to shout that loud, He scolded.
At this point, I have the right to shout as much as I want, I just saw Carmela removing a large sum of money from the credit card at the hospital. Samson expression turned cold, so she went ahead to use the money without my consent, She will pay dearly for it, he said, placing a call to the bank. There was a wicked smile on Sophie's face as she felt proud of her actions.
This scene is already intense and emotional, but I can help refine it so the flow feels sharper, the tension tighter, and the emotions more visceral. Here's a polished version:
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After depositing the money, I went for a pregnancy test. The result was positive.
Alex drove me home in silence, his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. When we arrived, he turned to me.
"Sister, now that you're pregnant, you need the car more than I do, so why don't you—"
"No, Alex," I cut him off before he could finish. "It's okay. I can cope."
He shook his head. "I'm not asking, I'm telling you," he said, his voice firm with resolve.
At the entrance of the mansion, he got out and flagged down a taxi, leaving me with the car. I drove into the garage, my chest heavy, and stepped into the living room.
"Where are you coming from, you cheap slut?" Franziska's voice sliced through the air, venom dripping with every word. She stood there, pride and rage dancing in her eyes.
"I owe you no explanation," I replied coldly, trying to walk past her.
Her hand struck me before I could take another step. My cheek burned, red-hot, the pain sharp and humiliating.
Before I could react, Sophie shoved me hard. I stumbled and fell to the ground, my body trembling.
"You shallow bastard," she sneered, towering over me. "Where is your credit card?"
Her tone was sharp, commanding—like a predator cornering prey. My heart hammered, fear choking me. Their eyes glowed with savagery, and in that moment, they no longer looked human.
Hands shaking, I fumbled through my bag and handed it to Sophie. I clutched the center table for balance, my knees folded under me, hair disheveled, face twisted in horror—as if I had just been electrocuted.
I looked at Sophie with disbelief. This was the same girl I once helped with her homework, from high school all the way to university. Now, she stood over me like a stranger, unrecognizable.
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[Narrator's POV]
Later that night, Camilla lay in the guest room, banished from her matrimonial bed after refusing Samson's demand to abort the pregnancy. The weight of the night pressed against her chest as fragments of the ordeal replayed in her mind like a broken record. His blows still echoed on her skin, leaving her body swollen and her face distorted—like clay kneaded carelessly with water.
She had never imagined that Samson—the man she had loved, trusted, and built her world with for nearly eight years—would turn into her greatest source of pain. Betrayal had a taste, and now she knew it: bitter, raw, and unforgiving.