The Bottom Line: His Suffering

Allison POV:

The hospital lights were stark and unforgiving, mirroring the harsh reality of Bea' s condition. I sat by her bedside, holding her small, still hand, the fury a cold, hard knot in my stomach. My niece, my light, lay silent and unresponsive.

"Aunt Allison," Bea whispered, her eyes fluttering open, "I' m sorry."

Her voice was barely audible, a faint rasp. My heart shattered into a million pieces. She was apologizing. For Gabriel' s monstrous act.

"No, baby," I choked out, tears streaming down my face. "No, sweet pea, this is not your fault. None of this is your fault." I gently stroked her forehead, the memory of Gabriel' s brutal slap like a fresh wound. I reached up and slapped myself, hard, across the cheek. It was a familiar gesture of self-punishment, but this time, it was fueled by a deeper, more profound guilt. I should have protected her. I should have seen this coming.

The doctor came in, his face grim. "The good news is, Bea is out of immediate danger. The bad news… the impact caused a ruptured eardrum. We' re hopeful for full recovery, but it will be a long process. And there' s some trauma response. She' s withdrawn."

Ruptured eardrum. Trauma response. Gabriel had done this. He had silenced her. My vibrant, outspoken Bea was now a quiet, scared child.

I stayed by her side all night, watching her shallow breaths, my mind replaying Gabriel' s heinous act. The next morning, Arnulfo rushed in, his face haggard, his eyes bloodshot. He took one look at Bea, then at me, my tear-streaked face.

"Allison, my God," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He turned his furious gaze towards the door, as if Gabriel was still standing there. "That bastard! That ungrateful, despicable son of a bitch! After everything we did for him, everything we built together… he lays a hand on my daughter? On your niece?"

Arnulfo' s fists clenched. "I' m not letting this go, Allison. I' m going to press charges. I' m going to sue him until he has nothing left."

I nodded slowly, my voice still hoarse. "Do it, Arnulfo. I' ll support you. Every step of the way."

Just as we were discussing legal options, Gabriel' s lawyer called. He offered a hefty sum of money. "Mr. Perkins is deeply regretful of the misunderstanding. He' s prepared to offer a substantial settlement, provided Mr. Duncan drops all legal action."

Arnulfo scoffed. "Misunderstanding? He assaulted my daughter! Tell your client that money won' t buy his way out of this."

Another call came directly from Gabriel. His voice was laced with menace. "Arnulfo, don' t be foolish. You know what I' m capable of. Kaia means everything to me. If her name is dragged through the mud because of your little girl' s exaggerated story, you' ll regret it. Tell Allison to control her niece."

"Control her niece?!" Arnulfo roared into the phone. "You just hit a ten-year-old girl, Gabriel! There' s no controlling that kind of evil! I' m going for justice, and you won' t stop me." He hung up with a slam.

Gabriel' s retaliation was swift, brutal, and utterly comprehensive. Within days, Arnulfo' s construction business, which had relied heavily on contracts with Gabriel' s firm, was systematically dismantled. Gabriel froze their accounts, pulled all ongoing projects, and, with vicious precision, instigated a series of lawsuits from disgruntled former employees, accusing Arnulfo of everything from shoddy workmanship to financial mismanagement.

Arnulfo' s company crumbled. His assets were seized, his properties mortgaged, his life savings wiped out. He spiraled into a deep depression, his health deteriorating rapidly. He had a rare heart condition, and his life-saving medication became mysteriously unavailable in the city' s pharmacies. Gabriel had bought out the entire supply.

I watched my brother, once so vibrant and strong, turn into a shadow of himself. His hair, once dark, turned snow white overnight. The stress, the humiliation, the constant battle against Gabriel' s relentless cruelty, had broken him.

We were both scarred, Arnulfo and I, battered and bruised, but in our shared suffering, a new, harder core had formed within me. The old Allison, the one who loved and grieved, was gone. This new Allison was a survivor. A strategist. And a force to be reckoned with.

I found Arnulfo staring blankly out the hospital window one afternoon, his face pale, his eyes hollow. "Gabriel… he called," he whispered. "He asked if I was ready to give up."

My blood ran cold. I walked over to Gabriel, who was sitting in the waiting area, sipping coffee, a smug look on his face as he talked on his phone. He looked up, a mocking smirk on his lips.

"So, Allison," he said, his voice smooth, "Are you ready to admit defeat? Ready to come back to your senses?"

I didn't say a word. I walked up to him, my hand raised, and slapped him across the face, hard. The sound echoed in the quiet waiting room. His head snapped back, a red mark blooming on his cheek.

"My family is my bottom line, Gabriel," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "You crossed it. You hurt Bea. You destroyed Arnulfo. And for that, I swear, I will make you suffer a thousand times worse than you made us suffer. You and that pathetic little whre of yours. I hope you both burn in hell."

He stared at me, his eyes wide with shock. He had never seen this side of me. The raw, unfiltered hatred.

He recovered quickly, his eyes hardening. "Allison, don' t be ridiculous. You' re upset. I understand. But you can' t talk like that. Kaia is a good person. And you' re just… hurting yourself with this bitterness." He paused, then added, his voice chillingly calm, "And remember, Allison, I will always protect Kaia. She' s my priority. Don' t think you can touch her. You' re simply not in a position to."

I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. I remembered another time he' d said that. Years ago, when I'd first found out about Kaia, and I'd threatened to expose her to the media. He' d told me then, his voice cold and menacing, that if I ever tried to hurt her, I would lose everything. And I had believed him. I had backed down.

What an idiot I was. Sixteen years of marriage, of building an empire together, reduced to this. My love, my trust, my loyalty, all meaningless. He saw me as an obstacle, a nuisance. Kaia, the young, manipulative architect, was his muse, his obsession.

"Why, Gabriel?" I asked again, my voice trembling now, not with fear, but with an overwhelming sense of loss. "Why did you do this? Why did you throw us away, destroy our family, for her?"

He sighed, a weary, put-upon sound. "Allison, you were always so demanding. So… stifling. Kaia makes me feel like a man again. She worships me."

The words were like a physical blow. Worship. My years of partnership, of intellectual and emotional equality, reduced to a desperate need for adulation.

My eyes landed on a heavy metal chair in the waiting room. A surge of pure, unadulterated rage, unlike anything I' d ever felt, coursed through me. I grabbed the chair, the cold metal a comfort in my hands.

"You' re wrong, Gabriel," I snarled, my voice barely human. "You' re not a man. You' re a parasite. And you' re the one who deserves to die." With all my strength, I swung the chair, aiming for his head.