She Doesn’t Beg, She Destroys

After six years by Archie Valez’s side, everything changed when his uncle died—and Archie took over the family legacy… and with it, the responsibility of caring for his “young” aunt, Betty Cruz, whose age was practically the same as Archie’s.

Still, whatever Betty wanted, Archie delivered.

I just never thought it would include a baby.

Betty said she wanted a baby with the Valez bloodline. And with the uncle gone, Archie was the only one left to do the job.

So he gave her that, too.

“Just wait a little longer,” he would say to me, “Sabrina. As soon as she’s pregnant.”

What started as once a month turned into once a week… Then it became a nightly routine.

Of almost eight months that we lived in New York, Archie went to Betty over a hundred times.

And she finally got pregnant.

Shortly after, the Valez family announced that Archie would be marrying Betty.

“Mommy,” my daughter asked softly, climbing onto the couch beside me. Elly—our Elly. My Elly. The daughter Archie never had time for. “Is someone getting married?”

I held her close and kissed her hair. “Yes, sweetheart. Daddy’s finally marrying the love of his life.”

Elly blinked at the screen. “But what about us?”

I smiled.

“We’re going home, baby,” I whispered in her ear.

Archie forgot that I was Sabrina Marcellus. And the Marcellus women didn’t beg for rings. And certainly not love after betrayal.

1

Sabrina’s POV

"She Doesn’t Beg, She Destroys" "He Regrets Me Now" "You Lost Me Forever" "He Picked His Aunt" "I Don’t Forgive" "Regret Looks Good on Him" "Too Late for A Sorry" "The Mafia Don's Betrayal: Chose the Wrong Woman" "He Abandoned Us for Her—Now Watch Us Walk Away"

After I tucked Elly back into bed, I pulled out the laptop and booked two tickets to Las Vegas. It was close to Christmas, so nearly everything was sold out.

The earliest flight I could get was on Christmas Eve—three days from now. I guessed most people would already be home by then, celebrating the holidays with their families.

Christmas had always meant something to me. It was the day I met Archie. Our anniversary.

Funny, how fate liked to twist the knife with a smile.

Because this year, Christmas would be the day I left him—with our daughter.

I was still staring at the screen, lost in thoughts I couldn’t afford to feel, when a pair of arms slid around my waist from behind. Strong. Familiar. Reeking of whiskey.

Archie’s.

He murmured something about kissing me. His lips brushed the side of my neck, warm and coaxing. Then he kissed me on the lips, this time slower, heavier—hands starting to wander, already tugging me toward the bed.

I pushed him away, the scent clinging to his shirt knocking the air from my lungs.

It was Betty’s smell. The scent of her on him made me want to vomit.

I stood and turned away, heading for the living room. “Take a shower,” I said flatly. “You reek.”

He sniffed himself, laughed. “Do I? Sorry, babe. They made me drink at the casino. You know how it is—business.”

His voice trailed off under the hiss of running water.

Archie drinking wasn’t new. He drank to close deals at casino. The Valez owned a casino chain. And since he managed the family business now, most of his nights would spend on drinks.

A little while later, he reappeared in pajamas, fresh-faced. He flopped next to me on the couch and turned on some dull TV show.

“You mad at me, babe?” he asked, lips pouting in that boyish way of his. “You haven’t said much tonight.”

Archie always played innocent around me. Like he didn’t know what he was doing. But he did.

God, he always did.

I didn’t answer. My eyes stayed glued to the screen.

He sighed and wrapped an arm around me, “I’m sorry, babe. If the whole Betty thing is upsetting you… I won’t go to her these next few days, okay? I’ll stay. We can do whatever you want.”

The Betty thing. As if she were some harmless mistake.

And why did it sound like he was scared of her? Like she had the real power?

Oh. Right. Betty was pregnant. Soon they’d have a child of their own. A pure Valez heir.

I turned to look at him. His bare chest, that infuriatingly perfect body—just the right blend of softness and strength. Those warm, honeyed eyes that always made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered.

And just like that, staring into those familiar, honey-brown eyes, I was dragged back to the night he asked me to be his girlfriend.

We’d just had one wild, glittering night at a downtown club in Las Vegas.

Music thumped so loud the walls seemed to pulse, bodies moved like waves on the floor, but he pulled me aside, away from it all. His hands cupped my face. His lips brushed my ear.

“Sabrina,” he whispered, barely audible beneath the beat. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

He looked at me with those same soft, hopeful, too-good-for-this-world puppy eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said, breathless.

Then he pulled me in, and we kissed—long, heated, messy. The kind of kiss that left ones legs shaky and their heart pounding like the bass line.

The crowd disappeared. The music faded. For a minute, it felt like the universe had emptied itself just for us.

Back then, I believed in that magic. I believed in him. I thought, Hell yes. This boy is mine. This man is my future.

Now, looking into those same eyes, all I could smell was Betty’s perfume—cheap and sticky-sweet. The kind that clung to skin and wouldn’t wash off. The kind that made ones stomach turn.

Archie winked, inching closer. “Why waste a night just staring at me when there’s so much more we could be doing… like…”

He didn’t get to finish. Because his phone rang—sharp and jarring—and just like that, the illusion shattered.

He hit speaker, lips still hovering near mine.

“Boss, Miss Betty says she’s not feeling well,” came the voice of one of his men.

The name alone flipped a switch in him.

Archie jerked upright, voice sharp. “Call the doctor. Now. I’m coming over.”

By the time he changed clothes, he was halfway to the door before even glancing my way.

“Babe… Sorry. I have to check on Betty. No one’s there with her.” He paused, looking torn. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. You’re the best.”

The best? Yes. For enduring eight months of silence, of broken promises, of sleepovers with his aunt Betty—who, let’s be honest, was just another Valez cover for scandal.

Yes. I was the best.

The fact that I stayed this long? That was my best mercy. A final chance for him to right the wrongs.

He didn’t take it.

I stood up, walked to him, and handed over the one thing he almost left behind.

“Your phone,” I said quietly. “You forgot it.”

2

Sabrina’s POV

Archie took it, blinking. “You’re… not mad?”

He sounded confused. Like the absence of my rage meant something was wrong.

“No reason to be mad,” I said, voice smooth as silk. “You’re just doing what you think you’re supposed to.”

He smiled like that meant something. “Thank you for understanding, babe.”

The door shut behind him.

And just like that, I was alone again. In the same house. On the same couch. But I wasn’t the same woman.

Three more days.

Then I’d be gone for good.

I hope you’re happy, Archie. I really do.

Because Betty? She’s all yours now. Just like you always wanted.

…

Archie didn’t come back that night.

I’d told myself he wouldn’t, that I knew better by now. But knowing didn’t stop the ache.

There was still a small, stubborn part of me that held out hope. And when it was crushed—as it always was—I didn’t let myself fall apart this time.

I had more important things to do than mourn a man who’d stopped choosing me a long time ago.

So, I got up early and made breakfast for Elly.

And just as I was setting the table, there came a knock on the door.

Too early for guests. My heart thudded.

When I opened it, a man in a crisp black suit stood waiting. “Are you Miss Sabrina Marcellus? I’m here on behalf of Mrs. Valez. She’s requested your presence—along with your daughter—at the Valez Manor.”

Mrs. Valez? Archie’s mother?

The same woman who once said I was a stain on their family name. That Elly—my beautiful, sweet girl—was nothing more than a burden. An illegitimate daughter who would never carry the Valez name, let alone their pride.

So why summon me now?

My stomach twisted. There were games behind every door in that house. But I wasn’t foolish enough to ignore her invitation. Not with the Valez name stitched into every shadow of New York.

…

The main hall of the Valez Manor was gleaming as always—cold, grand, and expensive. But what caught my attention wasn’t the chandelier or the marble floors.

It was the scene waiting for me.

Sally Valez stood at the center like a queen on her throne. And next to her stood Archie. With Betty tucked under his arm, smiling like she’d already won.

I didn’t have time to brace myself before Sally spoke, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.

“The Valez family is expecting a baby boy,” she announced, eyes gleaming as they fell on Betty’s stomach. “And it’s time we made things official. I propose Archie and Betty be married before the child is born.”

Applause. Laughter. Congratulations.

But I only looked at one person.

Archie. He was grinning down at Betty, like she hung the stars. “I’m going to be a father,” he said.

Going to be? Had he forgotten he was one?

“Mommy,” Elly whispered, tugging on my sleeve, “is Daddy going to have another baby? Am I getting a brother or sister?”

I bent down and scooped her into my arms. “Oh, baby…” Her question was innocent, too innocent. And it pierced the room like a gunshot.

Gasps. Murmurs. Shuffling heels.

Sally’s voice rose like a whip crack.

“Some women just don’t get the hint,” she said, loud enough for every soul in the room to hear. “Dragging a bastard child around like it’s a golden ticket. Girls these days think one night with the right man is all it takes to climb their way into a dynasty.”

More voices.

“That’s Archie’s illegitimate daughter?”

“She’s so old already.”

“What is she doing here? This is Betty’s celebration.”

Sally stood from her chair and approached, slow and deliberate. Her heels echoed like gunshots across the floor.

She stopped in front of me, her eyes hard. “Sabrina,” she said, “I called you here to make your position clear. You and your daughter will never be part of this family.”

She looked at Elly like she was something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“My son deserves happiness. And that’s not with you. So listen carefully—your daughter is not a Valez. I don’t care what name you give her or what lies you tell. But from this day on, don’t you dare claim she’s Archie’s.”

She smiled—sharp, cruel, practiced. “Do you understand me?”

For a heartbeat, I stood frozen. Stunned. Not because I didn’t know what to say—but because I couldn’t quite believe she’d said it out loud.

Sally had never liked me. And by extension, she never liked Elly. But I guess I’d held on to some naive hope that blood—real, innocent blood—might soften her. That somewhere beneath the Chanel and venom, there might be a heartbeat of decency.

But no.

She just called her own granddaughter a bastard in front of the entire Valez, and possible some social elites in NYC.

Fine. If that’s the story they wanted to tell, then I’d write the ending myself.

My daughter would never be someone’s shame.

Archie shifted, looking like he might finally grow a spine. “Mom, you don’t have to—”

Betty touched his arm, just a soft press of her fingers, and that was all it took. He shrank back, said nothing. Stayed silent like he always did when it counted most.

I turned to Sally and smiled—slow, razor-edged.

“Alright then,” I said sweetly. “Elly will be mine alone. From this day forward, she’ll have no ties to the Valez name.”

I looked down at the little girl in my arms—her eyes so bright, so trusting. “Baby,” I said softly, brushing a curl from her cheek, “from now on, we’ll call Daddy ‘Mr. Valez,’ okay? Because he… well, daddy died today.”

Her lips parted. “Mommy…”

“You!” Sally’s voice cracked like a whip. “Did you just curse my son died?”

I blinked, playing innocent. “Oh no. Of course not. I’d never do such a thing. I’m just… trying to explain things in a way a child can understand.” I winked at Elly, planting a kiss on her warm cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Archie stood three steps away, arms at his sides, eyebrows drawn tight. Torn? Maybe. But if he truly cared, he wouldn’t have let his mother humiliate us. His silence was louder than any slap.

I turned toward the door. I’d heard what I needed to hear. That my daughter no longer had a father. That we were never welcome. Message received.

But before I reached the threshold, Betty’s syrupy voice called after me.

“Sabrina?”

I paused.

“I heard Archie gave you the family heirloom. The diamond necklace. You know, when you had Elly. Since we’re getting married, I thought… maybe you’d give it back?”

I didn’t turn.

She went on. “I’d like to wear it at the wedding. And since you’re no longer going to be a Valez, it just makes more sense for me to have it.”

3

Sabrina’s POV

I turned and looked at Archie. “Is that what you want as well?”

The man who had once knelt beside my hospital bed, a velvet box in his hand, shaking with nerves and joy.

“I know it’s not a ring,” he’d said, voice thick with emotion. “But I want you to have it. You’ll be my one and only, Sabrina. My Mrs. Valez.”

We were happy then, foolishly and stupidly.

After Elly, Sally had tried to take it back. But Archie stood his ground back then. Said it belonged to me. The mother of his child.

And now? Now he just looked at the floor.

“Sabrina,” he murmured, not meeting my eyes, “why don’t you give it to Betty? I’ll buy you another one…”

That was all I needed to hear.

“You can have it.”

I unclasped the necklace, my fingers trembling only slightly. I hadn’t taken it off in years. It had become part of me.

And now, with its absence, came something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Freedom.

I placed it on the table without a word.

Then, in a room full of Valez and their judgmental stares, I walked out with my daughter in my arms.

I didn’t look back. Not once.

…

It wasn’t until we were back home that Elly finally broke.

She clutched my arm, her little voice wobbling. “Mommy, does Daddy not want us anymore? Why did you say… he died?”

My heart cracked in two.

I gathered her into my arms and held her tight, rocking her gently. “Oh, baby,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her soft curls. “You still have me. Mommy’s not going anywhere. I’ll always be by your side. Always.”

She sniffled into my chest, and I grabbed a tissue to wipe her tears. Then I looked into her big, tear-streaked eyes—the ones she got from him—and forced myself to smile.

“Mommy has a question for you.”

She blinked up at me, curious. “What is it?”

“Do you want to leave here with me? Go somewhere new?” I paused. “It’s my old home. We can have more toys, more sunshine… and more people to love you. Mommy’s been a little homesick, you know?”

She tilted her head, thinking. “Can we bring Daddy with us?”

My heart twisted again. I stroked her hair and gently corrected her, “No, baby. He can’t come with us. And remember—he’s Mr. Valez now, okay?”

She gave a little pout, on the verge of tears again. “Then can we at least have one more Christmas with him? Please? Just one?”

I’d already booked our tickets for Christmas Eve. But looking at her—at the way her lower lip trembled—I couldn’t bear to say no.

So I nodded. “Okay,” I said softly. “I’ll call Mr. Valez and see if we can plan something. Just for you.”

…

One day left until Christmas.

I’d called Archie earlier, told him Elly wanted to spend an early holiday with him. It was the least he could do—after everything that happened at the Valez mansion.

Deep down, I guess I still wanted Elly to have a little piece of happiness before we left this city—and her father—for good.

She’d been glowing all morning, cheeks pink from excitement. Giggling as she twirled in the new princess dress I bought her.

“Mommy!” she beamed, “When is Dad—uh, Mr. Valez—coming? I wanna show him my dance! And decorate the tree! And bake the cake! And I learned a new song on the piano—he’s gonna love it!”

I smiled, brushing flour from her nose. “Hold on, honey. Let me call him now, okay? Just wait here for Mommy.”

I grabbed my phone from the couch and stepped out onto the balcony. The sky was pale gray, snow threatening to fall. I hit Archie’s number.

No answer.

Figures.

So I sent a message instead: Elly is waiting. How long do you need?

We waited another hour.

Elly kept peeking out the window, her little nose pressed to the glass, the excitement she’d worn so brightly this morning slowly dimming.

I texted again: Are you serious? You made a promise.

Still nothing.

Elly turned to me, her voice softer now. “Did Mr. Valez forget today?”

“No, baby,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “He’s just caught up in something. He’ll be here soon.”

She gave me a smile—brave, wobbly, heartbreaking. “Let’s eat cake, Mommy. If Mr. Valez’s still busy, we can start without him.”

She stood on tiptoes and kissed my cheek, warm and sticky from frosting. “I’m happy I have you.”

It was the first time she didn’t slip and call him Daddy.

Maybe even a child could recognize when her father was nothing more than a ghost in a nice suit.

Elly bounced back faster than I did. She helped me frost the caramel cake we’d made together, placed the last glittering ornament on the tree, and climbed onto the couch beside me as her favorite cartoon started to play.

And then my phone buzzed.

A message.

Come to the Valez mansion. I’ve prepared a surprise for Elly.

My stomach twisted. The Valez mansion? Sally had made it clear I wasn’t welcome—not now, not ever. She wouldn’t even let Elly be acknowledged as part of their family. Why the sudden invitation?

Maybe Archie had spoken to her. Maybe—just maybe—he was trying to make things right for once.

It was Elly’s last Christmas with him. I couldn’t let suspicion ruin what could be a happy memory for her.

So I turned to my daughter and smiled. “Guess who just texted, sweetheart? Mr. Valez wants us to come over—he has a big surprise waiting for you!”

Elly gasped. “Really? Yay! I’m so happy!” She ran toward the hallway. “Wait—I want to bring the present I made! I’ve been working on it forever!”

…

When we arrived, the entire Valez estate glowed.

The gate was draped in white roses and evergreen garlands. The long drive sparkled with string lights. A red carpet stretched from the gate all the way to the front doors.

It didn’t look like a child’s Christmas surprise.

It looked like something else entirely.

Still, I told myself Archie must’ve prepared something inside for Elly. Something sweet. Private. Maybe this was just… theatrics.

Elly didn’t care. She tugged my hand, pulling me forward with all the excitement a five-year-old could muster.

Inside the main hall, the atmosphere was wrong—too polished, too adult, too cold.

And in the middle of it all stood Archie, dressed in a tailored suit, shaking hands and greeting guests.

Guests? Was this… a party?

4

Sabrina’s POV

Elly didn’t hesitate. The moment she saw him, she ran forward, her arms stretched wide. “Daddy! Daddy! Look at my dress!”

My heart clenched.

But Archie’s face drained of color. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

He moved quickly, reaching for her, eyes darting around the room. “Elly? Who brought you here? Where’s your mother?”

He wasn’t happy to see her, wasn’t even surprised.

He was panicked.

And in that moment, the truth hit me like a slap.

That message… it wasn’t from Archie.

He hadn’t remembered the promise or prepared anything for Elly.

Whispers began floating in the air, sharp as broken glass.

“Who is that rude little girl? Calling a man she doesn’t know her daddy?”

“Isn’t Archie’s child still in Betty’s belly?”

“I thought Archie never married. Where’d this kid even come from?”

“Probably just some desperate woman trying to pawn her kid off on him for money.”

“Look at her. She looks like the type.”

Archie’s face flushed a dark red—embarrassed, angry, or both. He stepped forward, too quickly, too harshly. “Who is this child?” he snapped. “I’m no father to her. Someone get her out of here.”

And just like that, he shoved Elly.

Not hard, but hard enough for her little legs to stumble and send her tumbling backward onto the polished floor.

I was at her side in a heartbeat, gathering her in my arms, bracing for tears—but there were none.

Elly blinked up at him, then down at her shoes. “Sorry, Mr. Valez… I thought …”

I held her tight, my heart shattering into splinters. “You’ve done nothing wrong, baby. Nothing.”

But still, she looked toward him with hope.

She pointed at the towering cake beside the champagne fountain. “Is that the cake Mr. Valez’s surprise for me? Can I blow the candle on it?”

Before I could answer, a sugary voice cut through the air like poison honey.

“No, you can’t,” Betty crooned, gliding toward us in a tight cocktail dress. Her heels clicked like daggers. “That’s my cake. And only I can blow out the candles.”

She leaned down, lips barely curved. “Didn’t your mother teach you manners? When you go to someone else’s party, you don’t act entitled. And sweetheart, you don’t run around calling strange men your daddy. It’s rude. Isn’t that right, Archie?”

The smug look she threw me was almost comical in its gloating.

Now I knew who sent that message.

It was probably Betty. Her need to humiliate me. To make it clear to the world—and the press—that Elly was not a Valez. That she would never be a Valez.

Only her baby mattered now.

I stood, still cradling Elly in my arms, and leveled my gaze at Archie. “Was Elly too rude to call you daddy?”

He hesitated. He actually hesitated. And then he gave his verdict.

“Yes,” he said, stiffly. “It was inappropriate… to go around calling anyone you like daddy, little girl.”

My blood turned to ice.

Betty slid her arm around his, victorious.

And that was it. The whispers returned, uglier now. No longer subtle.

“Shameless little brat. Just like her mother.”

“Hah. Told you Archie only had one kid, and it’s growing inside Betty.”

“Where’d this one come from anyway? Maybe she calls every man she sees daddy.”

“Let’s hope she grows out of it. Wouldn’t want her calling her boyfriend daddy next.”

I looked down at Elly. Her eyes were glassy, but her expression was calm.

Too calm.

I prayed she didn’t understand.

I gently set her down, kissed her forehead, and stepped forward. Walked straight up to the champagne tower.

And with one swift motion, I tipped it over.

Glass shattered like firecrackers. Bubbly wine sprayed across the polished floors. Gasps rippled like a wave.

I turned, smiling sweetly. “Such a beautiful day, isn’t it? I thought I’d make a toast for the birthday girl.”

Then I shrugged. “Oops. I slipped. Better luck next time.”

Silence fell like a bomb.

For the first time in years, I’d let them see a glimpse of the real me.

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

5

Sabrina’s POV

Elly rushed to my side, panic all over her face. “Are you hurt, Mommy?”

I managed a smile and shook my head. “No, sweetheart. Mommy’s okay. Let’s get out of here.”

I scooped her into my arms and turned for the gates.

But we didn’t make it far.

A cluster of guards moved in, blocking our way like a wall of stone. One stepped forward, voice cold. “Who said you could leave after that stunt?”

And then she appeared—Sally—striding out like a queen addressing her court, “Throw this crazy woman out like the trash she is. Don’t let her walk out of here.”

I hugged Elly tighter. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

Luckily they didn’t come for her. They came for me.

Five guards. Their hands gripped like iron, forcing me to the ground. I heard Elly scream, felt her little hands trying to pull them away. But she was no match for them.

My cheek scraped the stone as one of the guards shoved his boot between my shoulders, pinning me down. The pressure made my ribs scream.

And still—my only thought was Elly.

“Don’t cry, baby,” I gasped, blinking through the blur of pain. “Mommy’s okay. I promise.”

I let the pain settle, let it root itself deep into my bones—because in every ache, I remembered.

The first night I met Archie, saving him from the blackjack table with nothing but wit and bad luck.

The night we lay under the stars, talking about everything and nothing, until we fell asleep in the sand.

The moment he lifted me into the air, laughing, when we found out I was pregnant.

The way he knelt beside my hospital bed, that necklace in his hand, and promised to protect me and our child.

Every beautiful memory.

And in that moment, I chose to let them all go. Those memories didn’t belong to me anymore.

Archie Valez didn’t exist anymore.

The guards hoisted me up and dragged me through the courtyard like some criminal. Elly ran behind, trying to keep up, crying out between sobs.

“Please, Mr. Valez! Please! Put Mommy down—we’ll leave, I promise!”

Her tiny voice cracked something open in me. But not just me.

Archie’s voice rang out, sharp and startled. “Wait. Stop.”

He stepped forward, brow furrowed. “Elly…”

“Please,” she whispered again. “I’m begging you.” Her little face was covered with tears.

The guards hesitated. One finally let go. And the second they did, I bolted to Elly. I pulled her into my arms and didn’t let go.

“Come on, baby,” I whispered, “we’re leaving.”

She cried quietly into my shoulder as we walked out.

…

The Christmas Eve. Just before our flight, a message buzzed on my phone.

Archie: Sorry things got out of hand yesterday. I’ve been busy with some things, but I’ll check on you and Elly in a few days, alright?

Busy.

Right. Like I didn’t know he was getting married to Betty now. Today was their Christmas wedding.

I’d already called a cleaning team over. After packing the essentials, I told them to throw everything else out. Every memory, every echo of our life here—gone.

Elly and I went straight to the airport after that.

And before stepping through security, I typed one last message.

Hope you enjoy your wedding today. Don’t bother checking in. We’ll be no longer your worries.

I hit send. Then I pulled the SIM card out of my phone and dropped it into the nearest trash can.

“Come on, baby,” I said, taking Elly’s hand. “Let’s go find you some snacks for the plane.”