The Grave They Dug For Her

Ivy POV:

The next few days passed in a blur of legal documents and estate agents. Settling my mother's affairs was surprisingly straightforward. It felt detached, like handling the property of a distant relative rather than the remnants of my own childhood home. Maybe that was for the best. The less emotion, the better. My mother' s solicitor, an old, kindly man who seemed genuinely relieved to see me alive, handled most of the heavy lifting.

With the legalities mostly sorted, I decided to do some shopping. Collin, Leo, and my Richardson family always sent me thoughtful gifts, but there was something comforting in picking out something special for them myself. It was a small, domestic gesture that grounded me, a stark contrast to the sterile world of legal documents and the phantom world of my past. I found myself in a high-end shopping center, admiring a new collection of children's books for Leo, when my phone vibrated.

It was an unknown number. I almost ignored it, but something made me tap it open. It was a text message:

We heard you were back. Donnell's anniversary party is tonight. You should come. We miss you. - Dexter

Dexter. My brother. The man who had once been my protector, my confidant, before Ainsley's insidious influence had turned him against me. I felt a pang of something akin to disgust. They "missed" me? After five years of silence, after abandoning me in a hospital bed, they missed me now that I was back and seemingly successful?

I noticed the location tag at the bottom of the message: "The Grandeur Hotel & Suites." I recognized the name. It was one of Alaric's flagship properties, a beacon of luxury that had recently been renovated under Arnulfo's supervision. The irony was not lost on me. They were celebrating their twisted family in my new family's house.

I deleted the message without replying. There was nothing left for me there. I had a life, a real life, waiting for me in New York. I picked up a beautifully illustrated copy of "The Little Prince" for Leo and headed for the checkout. My shopping bags were filled with gifts, tangible tokens of the love I shared with my chosen family.

As I stepped out of the mall, into the crisp evening air, a sleek black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to the curb, cutting me off from the taxi stand. My first thought was annoyance. My second was a flicker of recognition. It was that specific model of luxury car, the kind Donnell always drove. Before I could react, the passenger door flew open.

A pair of strong hands grabbed my arms, shoving me roughly into the back seat. I gasped, dropped my shopping bags, and landed hard on the plush leather. Before I could even scream, the door slammed shut, and the locks clicked into place. I was trapped.

Through the tinted window of the driver's side, I saw a familiar profile. His dark hair, the set of his jaw. My brother. Dexter.

"Dexter?" I blurted out, the old name slipping past my lips before I could stop it. A wave of nausea washed over me. The last time I had spoken to him, really spoken to him, was five years ago. Just before my accident.

Flashback

"Ivy, just calm down!" Dexter's voice had been tight, strained. "Ainsley needs this. She's been through so much. You know how sensitive she is."

"Sensitive?" I'd screamed into the phone, my voice raw with disbelief. "She spread rumors about me! She told Clayton I was still secretly meeting my ex! She convinced Dad that I was purposefully sabotaging her life!"

"She didn't mean it, Ivy!" he yelled back, his patience wearing thin. "She was just upset. And you always have to make such a scene. Can't you just let her be happy? It's always about you, isn't it? Just leave us alone, Ivy. For once. Just leave."

The line went dead. He had hung up on me. My own brother. He had chosen her. Just like everyone else.

End Flashback

"Dexter," I repeated, this time with a cold, formal edge. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. "It's been a long time, Ivy." He didn't acknowledge my forced entry, my dropped shopping.

"It has," I agreed, my voice dangerously calm. "And it seems you've learned nothing about personal boundaries."

He flinched, his jaw tightening. "Donnell wants to see you," he stated, ignoring my jab. "It's his anniversary party. It's important."

"And you thought kidnapping me was the best way to get me there?" I scoffed, looking at my scattered shopping bags on the floor. "My new winter coat for Leo is probably ruined."

He scoffed back. "Oh, cry me a river, Ivy. You're still the same, aren't you? Always complaining. Always making a mountain out of a molehill. Ainsley would never be this difficult." He shook his head. "She's so graceful, so understanding. She knows how to put family first."

I leaned back against the seat, a bitter smile playing on my lips. "Yes, Ainsley. Always darling Ainsley. The perfect little angel who could do no wrong." My voice was laced with venom. "Except, of course, when she was busy manipulating everyone around her to get what she wanted."

Dexter's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That's not fair, Ivy. She needs us. She's delicate."

"Delicate?" I finished his sentence for him, the word tasting like bile. "Or just a master manipulator who weaponizes her feigned fragility?"

Flashback

"Ivy, Ainsley is just so depressed," Donnell had told me countless times. "She had such a difficult upbringing before I brought her into our home. You have to be patient with her."

Patient. I had been patient. Patient when Ainsley "accidentally" broke my favorite teacup, patient when she "borrowed" my clothes and never returned them, patient when she started flirting openly with Clayton, my fiancé, right in front of me. She shed tears, played the victim, and everyone, especially Donnell and Dexter, rushed to her defense.

"She always gets what she wants, doesn't she, Dex?" I remembered asking him once, barely concealing my frustration. He'd just shrugged, a haunted look in his eyes. He never stood up for me. Not really.

End Flashback

Dexter cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. "Still like those caramel lattes, Ivy? I remember you used to always order them at that little cafe downtown." He sounded almost wistful.

Flashback

"Hey, sis," Dexter had said, surprising me with a coffee one morning. "Caramel latte, just how you like it. Extra whipped cream." He ruffled my hair, a rare moment of genuine affection. He used to be my best friend, my protector against Donnell's strictness. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to stand up for myself.

But then Ainsley came. And with her, the subtle comments, the whispered insinuations, the constant need for attention. Slowly, imperceptibly, Dexter had drifted away, pulled into Ainsley's orbit, leaving me adrift.

The last time he brought me coffee was the morning of my car accident. He'd looked at me, his eyes filled with a strange pity, a mix of guilt and resignation. "You should probably just leave, Ivy," he'd said, his voice flat. "It'll be easier for everyone."

His words had stung more than any physical blow. I drove away that morning, my heart heavy, tears blurring my vision. The crash was almost a mercy. It stopped the pain of their rejection, if only for a moment. The pain of the broken bones was nothing compared to the shattered trust.

End Flashback

"I prefer black coffee now," I said, my voice cutting through his nostalgic attempt. "Things change, Dexter. People change."

He visibly recoiled, his face falling. He looked older, too, I noticed. Lines of stress etched around his eyes, his once bright gaze dulled by something I couldn't quite place. Guilt? Resentment? Fatigue?

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, my voice sharp, cutting off any further attempts at forced pleasantries.

He glanced in the rearview mirror again, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes. "To the anniversary party. At The Grandeur Hotel. Donnell's... he's really keen to see you." He stressed the word "really," as if that alone would make me forgive everything.