From Broken Sister To Beloved Wife

na

oft, laced with a mix of sympathy and quiet fury. "Their own family.

dull throb in my heart. "Blood means nothing to them anymore," I murmured

nds of Salazar Analytics, they'd leaned heavily on Howard and Bryan to raise me. My brothers had been my world, my protectors. Howard, stern but fair, once fought a sc

f college, stepped into the void, burdened by the weight of the family legacy.

rusted partner. My brothers, blinded by a misplaced sense of duty, welcomed him into our home. "H

co-founder, but a distant relative, a sickly child whose manipulative mother had orchestrated the ent

lousy, of fabricating lies. He showed me forged documents, dismissed my concerns as chil

information, then feign innocence when confronted. He' d whisper lies, twist my words, slowly poisoning my brothers again

n himself. And just like that, I became the aggressor, the one to be feared.

?" Cesar's voice aga

ght for a truth they refused to see. They wanted their fabr

al project, the culmination of years of work, before I vanished. Just as I started, I heard my b

y lab door. Howard, with Francis close behind him.

my voice firm. "I'm working on a c

ively. "He just wants to see,

reakroom, a desperate attempt to regain my composure. When I returned, the delicate scent of my neuro-linke

always, had been conveniently offline during Francis's "visit." Francis sat at his desk, humming a cheerful tune, a p

ce low and flat. "Did you

into theatrical sobs. "Jenna! How

with rage. "What have you done to hi

explained, my voice tight. "The o

emanded, his arms cr

lders slumping. "The cameras w

ho was still sobbing dramat

d, his voice muffled.

back to me, his voice laced with finali

ng departure. It felt like a cruel joke, the way they

s face. "You've been acting strangely lately, Jenna," he said, his voi

"Why, Howard? Why do you always make excuses for him? What exactl

respond, I stepped into the elevator, the doors