REBORN My Second Life I Became The Villianess (Nyxara) novel Chapter 13

The moment his footsteps faded down the corridor, the air in the foyer turned toxic. I stepped through the front doors, and before I could even take off my jacket, a sharp, blistering crack echoed off the marble walls. My head snapped to the side from the sheer force of the open-handed slap across my face. 

Before I could recover my balance, Nysa lunged forward. She had snatched a heavy, silver serving tray from a nearby side table and swung it like a weapon, the edge catching me squarely on the temple. 

A sharp, searing pain exploded across my forehead, and warm, sticky blood immediately trickled down into my eyebrow, staining the collar of my white silk blouse. 

“You deceitful little bitch!” Nysa screamed, her face twisted into an ugly, rabid mask of pure hysteria. 

My mother stood right behind her, chest heaving, her eyes filled with murderous rage. “How dare you let Dario drop you off this morning? You absolute little slut, trying to steal your sister’s fiancé right out from under her nose!” 

I didn’t flinch or cry. I pressed a hand against the bleeding gash on my forehead, glaring at them both with cold, unblinking hatred, letting the blood drip down my skin to heighten the sheer horror of the scene. 

And then, heavy footsteps echoed from the hall. My father rushed back out, drawn by the commotion, his face set in a scowl. “What the hell is happening here…” He started saying then stopped dead in his tracks. 

His eyes landed on me, on the blood soaking into my hair and dripping down my face. The color drained from his skin. 

“Nyxara!” he shouted, horror overriding his shock. He rushed forward, waving frantically at the hovering butler. “Get the medical kit, now!” 

He whipped a clean linen pocket handkerchief out of his suit jacket and pressed it firmly against the cut on my forehead, trying to stem the bleeding, before turning a furious, blazing glare onto his wife and oldest daughter. He demanded, voice trembling with rage, “What in God’s name is happening in this house?!” 

My mother immediately dropped her manic stance, her voice instantly shifting into a smooth, practiced, manipulative whine. “Carlton, calm down. Nysa just lashed out in anger. Nyxara was trying to seduce her fiancé, what woman wouldn’t be furious seeing her own sister pull that kind of stunt?” 

My father slowly turned his head, fixing his cold, disgusted gaze entirely on Nysa. 

“You are a Thirty-year-old woman, Nysa, and you are physically assaulting your younger sister out of petty jealousy,” my father snarled, his voice dropping an octave in sheer disbelief. 

“If you can’t even handle living under the same roof as your own sister without acting like a feral animal, how the hell do you expect to survive the Valteri house?” he asked. 

“Dad” Nysa whimpered, in an instant her demeanour changed to the one that always worked. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she shrank back. Now looking at her it was pathetic, a thirty year old woman acting like a child. 

“Shut up” my father snarled, as the butler handed the medical kit to him. 

My father reached out, his hand gently grasping my elbow, as he led me over to the sofa in the main sitting area. The butler hurried over, practically tripping over himself, and handed him the white medical kit before bolting back out of the room. 

I sat there, completely frozen, staring at him in shock as he popped open the latch and pulled out an antiseptic wipe. In my entire eighteen years of life, past and present, my father had never touched me with anything remotely resembling care. 

He had always been a distant shadow at the end of the dining table, the man who let my mother dictate every harsh rule in the house. But right now, his hands were steady and surprisingly careful. 

He pressed the antiseptic against the gash on my temple. It stung like hell, a sharp, white-hot burn, and I hissed softly, drawing in a sharp breath. 

“Shut up,” Our father cut her off, his voice dropping into a cold, lethal tone that made Nysa flinch. 

“I think you two have been spoiled and coddled far beyond any reasonable limit. You are thirty years old, Nysa, and you still have zero emotional control or basic human decency. Your status has completely rotted your brain. If the Valteris catch wind of this behavior and call this wedding off because of your unhinged attitude, you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself.” 

He paced a step closer to her, glaring down his nose. “Dario has sisters. If you treat your own blood sister like a feral animal in our own foyer, how the hell do you think you’re going to survive inside the Valteri household?” he asked. 

I sat there, my mind spinning a mile a minute. Who is this man? This wasn’t the distant, checked-out father of my past life. This man was actually seeing the rot in his own home, and for the first time ever, he was drawing a line. 

I started to slide off the sofa, keeping my head down. “I’ll… I’ll head up to my room to clean up.” I whispered. 

“Stay,” my father commanded gently, pointing right back to the cushion. 

I hesitated, then sat back down. He ignored his wife and oldest daughter entirely, dropping back down to one knee in front of me. He carefully parted my hair, shining a small penlight from the kit onto the wound, inspecting the cut. 

For a long, quiet minute, we just sat there. I watched him closely, seeing the tight lines of worry and guilt pull at the corners of his eyes. When he finally realized the gash wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, a massive wave of visible relief washed over his face. The rigid tension bled right out of his shoulders. 

Before he could say anything else, the heavy front doors swung open again. The head butler stepped inside, clearing his throat nervously. “Mr. Vexari… Mr. Dario Valteri has arrived.” 

The second the name dropped, Nysa’s entire demeanor shifted with terrifying, sociopathic speed. The hysterical, furious look she had on her face a few seconds ago vanished instantly and it was replaced by a wide, breathless, sugary-sweet smile. She smoothed down her dress, blinked away her tears, and practically skipped toward the front door, batting her lashes as she prepared to greet her billionaire fiancé like nothing had ever happened.