The dusty street in front of the small house Alice had called home for fifteen years was now lined with luxury black vehicles, their engines humming quietly. The neighbors peered through their windows, whispering in awe as Alice stepped out of a car, flanked by Don Primo, and Lady Zavhana,
As Alice entered the living room, Camille was already standing there, her arms crossed and a sneer on her face. "Back so soon, Alice? I see you brought more of your 'bodyguards' to protect your little nerd ego—"
"Enough, Camille," Alice said quietly. Her voice wasn't loud, but it had a new, unbreakable authority. Camille's smirk vanished when she saw the two imposing, elegantly dressed figures behind Alice.
Suzette rushed from the kitchen, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. "Alice! Anak! What is happening?"
Alice walked straight to Suzette and took her weathered hands. "Ma, these are my biological parents. They've come to take me home... but I had to come say goodbye first."
Camille's jaw dropped. "Parents? You mean... those people are actually yours?"
Lady Zavhana stepped forward, her eyes soft as she looked at Suzette. She reached out and took Suzette's hand, surprising the older woman. "Thank you," Zavhana whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for loving her when we couldn't. You gave her a life when it was stolen from us. We owe you a debt we can never truly repay."
Don Primo nodded solemnly, placing a hand on the table. "You raised a woman of incredible courage. You will always have the support of our family."
Suzette looked at Alice, her eyes filling with tears of both joy and heartbreak. She saw the expensive clothes, the security, and the parents who looked just like her daughter. "I always knew you were special, Alice. You were a gift I was only holding for a while." She smiled through her tears. "Go, anak. Go to the life you deserve."
Alice hugged Suzette tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. "You are my mother, Ma. Nothing—not even a title or a mansion—changes that. I'm not leaving you for good. I'll visit you every week. You're coming with me in my heart."
Alice then turned to Camille, who was standing frozen in shock. Alice didn't slap her. She didn't yell. She simply looked at her with pity. "I hope you find peace, Camille. You don't have to be mean to feel important anymore."
____
A week later, the private wing of the city's top hospital was silent, save for the hum of medical monitors. Bryle walked down the hall, a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand. He had practiced his confession a thousand times. He was ready to tell Alice that he loved her—not as an heiress, but as the girl who had changed his life.
He reached the door to Ruoxi's private suite. He was about to turn the handle when he stopped, looking through the small glass window.
Ruoxi was sitting up in bed, looking pale but conscious, her wounds bandaged. Alice was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand intertwined with Ruoxi's. They were laughing—a private, beautiful sound that Bryle realized he had never quite been the cause of.
Alice leaned in, her eyes shining with a devotion that went far beyond gratitude. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss against Ruoxi's lips. Ruoxi closed her eyes, pulling Alice closer with her uninjured arm, the two of them lost in a world where no one else existed.
Bryle stood frozen. The flowers felt heavy in his hand. He watched the way Alice looked at Ruoxi—the way she glowed in her presence, the way her entire soul seemed to settle into place.
He realized then that he had been waiting for a door to open that was already locked. He wasn't the hero of Alice's heart; he was the friend who had helped her find the person who truly held it.
With a sad, bittersweet smile, Bryle gently placed the flowers on the floor by the door. He took one last look at the girl who had finally found her home—not in a mansion or a title, but in the arms of the woman who had bled to save her.
He turned and walked away down the long, white hallway, leaving Alice to the love she had finally earned.
The End.