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After Escaping The Family, I Chose to Scatter My Ashes into the Sea Novel Cover

After Escaping The Family, I Chose to Scatter My Ashes into the Sea

After her ninety-ninth rejected call to her fiancé, Draven Frost, a terminally ill woman seeks to sever ties with the Rocci crime family. Despite her end-stage renal disease, her father, the family Consigliere, reacts with violence while her mother dismisses her diagnosis as a plea for attention. Even as her sister Bianca plays the martyr, the protagonist remains resolute. With only three days left to live, she demands an end to her engagement and her status as a Rocci daughter.
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Chapter 3

The color drained from Bianca's face.

In the blink of an eye, she rushed forward, grabbing my hand and pleading in that innocent tone of hers.

"Sister, I know you're worried about me."

"But... I've been feeling much better lately. My allergies are gone."

"Please don't be angry, sister. I can have something else!"

Her act was so transparent it was almost laughable.

The first time I made mango scones, I didn't know she was allergic.

Back then, I adored my sweet, lovely little sister.

All she had to do was mention wanting some, and I stayed up for three days and nights just to perfect the flavor for her.

The result? Bianca collapsed from an allergic reaction.

When she woke up, the first thing she did was fling herself into our parents' arms, crying.

"Father, Mother, the scones were a gesture from my sister. She said one little bite would be fine."

"Please don't blame her. It's my own fault for being greedy!"

I stood helplessly by her hospital bed, facing my parents' icy glares.

"I didn't know she was allergic to mangoes. She never told me..."

But instead of trust, I was met with my father's slap.

I can still feel the sting on my cheek. He'd hit me with enough force to send me stumbling to the floor.

"Everyone in this family knows. How could you not know?"

"So that's it. You were just trying to hurt your sister!"

He locked me in the underground wine cellar for three full days.

It was cold and damp, with no food or water.

My fever spiked to 102 degrees. I nearly died in that godforsaken place.

When they finally let me out, I was so weak I could barely stand.

All the while, Bianca was upstairs, basking in the care and attention of the entire family.

A cold laugh escaped my lips. "You fainted three weeks ago just from the smell of a mango, and now you're suddenly cured?"

"Eleanor, let the past be the past."

My mother waved a dismissive hand. "Bianca wants your scones. Just make them. What's so difficult about that?"

The nightmare of that time played over and over in my mind, and the memory still made me tremble.

I refused coldly. "I'm not making them. If you want scones, buy them yourself."

A flash of malice crossed Bianca's eyes before her wounded expression returned.

"Sister, I know you don't like me."

She walked toward me, feigning a plea. "But tonight is so important to me. Please..."

As she got closer, she suddenly threw herself backward.

"CRASH!"

She stumbled back into the wine cabinet, sending a priceless bottle of 1947 vintage red wine crashing to the floor.

The bottle shattered, spattering crimson liquid everywhere.

It was a memento from Draven's maternal grandfather, worth a hundred thousand dollars.

"Oh my god!" my mother shrieked.

My father and Draven's faces turned ashen.

But in the next second, Bianca reached for the largest shard of glass, letting the sharp edge slice deeply into her palm.

Blood instantly gushed from the wound.

I thought I had seen all her tricks, but I never imagined she would go so far as to harm herself just to frame me.

Bianca looked at me, crying. "Sister, why did you push me?"

My mother moved like lightning, pulling Bianca into her arms and anxiously checking the wound.

Bianca leaned against my mother, whimpering softly. "Mom, it hurts..."

Draven's face was a mask of fury. He turned on me. "Eleanor! You're insane! Do you know what you've done?"

"I didn't push her." I replied quietly, my voice hollow with a grief so deep it had turned to numbness. "She did it herself."

"Enough!"

My father grabbed another wine glass from the table and hurled it at my feet.

The glass exploded, and a shard slashed my calf.

"Eleanor, you have no respect for this family's rules!"

"You were a vicious child who pushed Bianca down the stairs, and you're pulling the same stunts now?"

"When will you ever stop?"

The force of the throw seemed to drain him.

I could feel a deep, bloody gash on my calf.

My mother saw the blood on my leg, and a flicker of pity crossed her eyes.

But a moment later, when Bianca's crying grew louder, she looked away and went back to comforting her.

I wiped the blood from my leg.

It didn't matter. I only had a few days left to live anyway.

A little more blood loss meant nothing.

I turned and went upstairs, grabbing the small bag I had already packed.

It was barely luggage, just a small backpack.

There was very little here worth taking.

When they saw me coming downstairs with my bag, their taunts began anew.

"What's this, you've learned to run away from home now?"

"The family's rules are meant to protect you, Eleanor. Why can't you ever understand that we have your best interests at heart?"

"And you can forget about ever being my fiancée!" Draven's voice cut in.

I had been disappointed so many times that I was numb.

After hearing that threat for the thousandth time, I was no longer afraid of losing this so-called family.

Because this family had never truly accepted me.

As I walked out the door without a second glance, my father smashed a vase on the table. The sound of shattering porcelain followed me.

I stopped, forced back my tears, and turned to face them all.

"Since you regret letting me live in this world, then today, I am cutting all ties with the Rocci family for good."

"Whoever goes back on their word is a traitor to the Families."

I had just stepped out of the villa's main gate when Draven caught up to me.

He pulled a roll of cash from his suit pocket, his tone softening slightly. "Go find a place and cool off for a few days. Once everyone has calmed down, come back and apologize. This will all blow over."

A roll of cash.

For Bianca, it was pocket money for a single shopping trip.

They had long grown accustomed to the idea that this was all I was worth.

"I said it. Whoever goes back on their word is a traitor." I said nothing more and limped away into the night.

"Eleanor, don't be so goddamn ungrateful!"

Draven stormed back into the living room, fuming. Bianca snatched the cash from his hand and cooed at him with a smile.

"Darling, don't give her any money. Once she's hungry enough, she'll come crawling back to you, won't she?"

Draven looked at Bianca's delicate face and thought she had a point.

After all, in every fight they'd ever had, I was always the one to give in first, to beg for his forgiveness.

This time, he thought, would be no different.

As I walked, a random, searing pain shot through my body again.

Dragging my exhausted body, I walked for what felt like an eternity before I finally crossed the boundary of the Frost family's territory.

With the little cash I had left, I booked a room in a dilapidated motel on the outskirts of the city.

In the dead of night, I curled up on the small, grimy bed.

Two days left.

As my life slipped away, bit by bit, I waited for death to come.

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