REBORN My Second Life I Became The Villianess (Nyxara) novel Chapter 19

My father cleared his throat, shifting his attention back to me, the anger and confusion bleeding into his voice now that the panic was subsiding.

"She came home from wherever she had been holed up, and she just started acting completely crazy," my father muttered, shaking his head in deep frustration.

"I was so confused because she has never behaved like that before. She kept screaming, blaming you, insisting that you were trying to seduce Dario and that you were the one spreading those vicious rumors about her all over the city."He paused, letting out a heavy, disappointed breath, and looked me dead in the eyes.

"I know that isn't true, Nyxara. You wouldn't do something like that. And honestly? Even if Dario had chosen you instead, you would still be a infinitely better, more stable choice than Nysa ever was, unfortunately you too young." he said.

The moment those words left my father's mouth, the air in the room instantly froze solid. My entire body went rigid. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat as the weight of his statement slammed into me. Even if Dario chose you...

Slowly, against every instinct screaming at me to stay still, my eyes drifted past my father’s shoulder, locking onto the man sitting in the corner.

Dario hadn't flinched. He was leaning back in the chair, a slow, incredibly wicked smirk spreading across his face, his dark gaze burning right into mine as if to say, He has no idea how right he is.

I quickly forced my eyes away, snapping my attention back to my father before he could notice my reaction. He was too deep in his own misery to notice anything else, staring down at the hospital sheets with a look of profound defeat.

"She refuses to work," my father continued, his voice dropping into a bitter, exhausted mumble. "Even in the company. When she graduated, I thought she would come work at the firm and slowly take charge, learn the ropes, build a future, but she doesn't care. All she thinks about is shopping, endless luxury trips, and spending money she didn't earn. And your mother just enables her every single step of the way."

He rubbed a tired hand over his face, shaking his head.

"She started acting out the exact day you returned to the estate. I have no idea if it's because she's terrified of sharing the spotlight, or if she just wants to be the only child forever, or what is wrong with her head. But she is thirty years old, Nyxara. This absolute madness cannot continue."

The quiet tension in the hospital room stretched out, the ticking wall clock marking the seconds while my father continued to stare down at his hands, lost in a spiral of bitter realization.

Before I could formulate a gentle response to calm him down, the heavy wooden door clicked open, swinging wide on its hinges.My mother and Nysa stepped into the room.

The transformation on Nysa’s face was instantaneous and jarring. The feral, unhinged monster who had shrieked and smashed my head against the wallpaper just hours ago was completely gone. In her place was a carefully constructed mask of sweet, fragile innocence. A sickeningly sweet smile was plastered across her face as she glided past the foot of the bed, zeroing in immediately on the corner where Dario sat.

She walked right up to him, pitching her voice into a soft, breathy coo.

"Dario," she murmured, fluttering her eyelashes and resting a manicured hand tentatively near the sleeve of his expensive suit jacket.

"Oh, thank goodness you're still here. I was so worried about Dad, and the whole house is just a complete disaster. It was just a massive misunderstanding... someone started a completely baseless rumor about me in the city, and it just... it got to my head, and I panicked."

She cast a quick, desperate glance over her shoulder toward our mother, signaling for backup.

My mother stepped forward immediately, her heels clicking sharply against the linoleum as she rushed to close the distance, inserting herself into the narrative with practiced desperation.

"Yes, it is exactly what Nysa said, Dario," my mother chimed in, her tone dripping with oily sincerity. "It was all a terrible misunderstanding. Nysa has always been a proper, dutiful girl. And a vicious, unfounded rumor like that been spread by malicious people trying to sabotage her, it’s enough to make anyone snap under the pressure. It can completely ruin a young woman's reputation."

He didn't wait for her to process the terrifying reality of what he had just said. He turned his dark gaze away from her, shifting his attention past the bed to where I stood. Our eyes locked for a fraction of a second, a silent, electric acknowledgment passing between us, before he looked back down at my father.

"I will take my leave now and let you handle this," Dario said, addressing my father with a firm, respectful nod. "Carlton. My drivers will be at your estate this coming Friday at precisely five o'clock in the evening to transport you and your household to the Valteri seaside estate for the official engagement week."

Without another word, without even sparing Nysa or my mother a parting glance, He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, the heavy door clicking shut behind him like the closing of a tomb.

The second the latch engaged, the illusion of Nysa’s sweet innocence shattered entirely. My father let out a long, shuddering breath, pressing a hand against his aching head. He didn't look at my mother or Nysa. Instead, he turned his tired, defeated eyes straight to me.

"Nyxara," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Please... help me up. Call a car to take us home."

I immediately stepped closer, sliding my arm securely beneath his back to help him swing his legs over the side of the bed.

"Carlton, stop this right now," my mother snapped, panic finally piercing through her composure as she hurried to the side of the bed. "You're being completely unreasonable. Nysa made a mistake! Families go through stress, weddings make people anxious you can't just act like she committed a crime because she had a moment of weakness!"

My father stopped moving. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head and looked directly at my mother. The exhaustion in his eyes had entirely burned away, replaced by a cold, searing wrath that made even Nysa step back.

"How many mistakes has she made, Caroline?" my father asked, his voice deathly quiet. "How many times have I covered for her? How many times have I looked the other way while she acted like a tyrant?"