Ruin Me Slowly

Chapter 28

Rosie POV

When Carter barged into my office earlier, I honestly thought he was going to thank me.

I thought he’d say, “Good job, Rosie. Thanks for removing that manipulative Ellis girl from my life.”

Instead, he threatened to walk away from everything.

The company. The family. The King name.

Because of her.

And now, here we are, standing in the middle of our lobby, and Jane walks in—with someone who looks just like her.

“This is my mother,” Jane said, standing tall.

Of course. Just when I thought this circus couldn’t get messier, now she brings in more family.

Great.

More Ellis blood.

I crossed my arms and tilted my head. I wanted to scoff. I wanted to roll my eyes and say something sharp.

But something about the woman beside her made me pause.

She was elegant, graceful, a little older, and her face—God, it was like looking at Jane twenty years from now.

“I’m Lucinda,” she said gently, holding her hand out. “Jane’s mother.”

I looked at her hand, but didn’t shake it.

Then she said, “Can I speak with you? Just for a moment. So Carter and Jane can talk… maybe work through this?”

I wanted to laugh in her face.

Who the hell did she think she was?

But something in her tone stopped me. It wasn’t forceful. It wasn’t arrogant.

It was… kind.

I nodded slowly and followed her into the hallway, leaving Carter and Jane behind.

We walked a few steps down until we stood alone, just the two of us.

I studied her.

She had Jane’s eyes. That same sad fire in them. That kind of strength that comes from surviving too much.

Lucinda took a deep breath.

“Rosie, I know how you feel about my ex-husband. And you’re not wrong for it.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her directness.

“I know what Richard did to your family,” she continued. “I know the lawsuits, the lies, the public humiliation. He’s a cruel man. He was always cruel.”

My heart beat a little faster, but I didn’t speak.

“Jane told me you believe she’s like him,” Lucinda said softly. “But she’s not. God, she’s not.”

I folded my arms tighter. “She carries his name.”

“So do I,” she said, her voice firm now. “But that doesn’t mean we carry his soul.”

I blinked.

Lucinda looked away, her eyes glistening. “Richard wasn’t just a bad husband. He was… manipulative. Controlling. He made me feel like I was nothing for years. Like I was only worth something if I stayed quiet and looked pretty beside him.”

She paused.

“I tried to leave so many times. But every time I did, he would threaten to take Jane away from me. He used his money, his power, his connections to make me feel trapped.”

I swallowed hard, not expecting this.

Lucinda’s voice cracked.

“I remember one night, Jane was maybe ten, and she had drawn this picture. Just a little sketch of the three of us smiling. I taped it to the fridge. Richard saw it and tore it off, threw it in the trash, and told her, ‘This family doesn’t fake happiness.’ Then he locked her in her room for hours because she didn’t get her math homework perfect.”

My breath caught.

Lucinda looked down, her voice shaking. “He used to test her like that. Make her recite facts, math, foreign languages. If she messed up, he’d scream. Or worse… he’d make her sit in the dark. Alone. For hours. Sometimes no dinner. Just silence. And fear.”

I couldn’t breathe.

I saw Jane’s face flash in my mind—how cold she looked when she walked into Empire. How guarded she always was. The way she never broke, even when I insulted her.

Because she learned not to break.

Lucinda looked at me again. “I left because I had to survive. But Richard made sure I couldn’t take Jane with me. He bought out the courts. Paid people off. I was nothing compared to his name.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“When I saw Jane on the news with Carter… I thought, God, please don’t let her go through this alone. Not like I did. Not again.”

And suddenly, everything hit me at once. The pain in Jane’s eyes. The silence at the dinner table.

The way she never fought back with me—she just stood there and took it.

She wasn’t cold. She was conditioned. I’d been so busy hating the last name that I never stopped to ask what the person behind it had lived through.

I had spent all this time trying to protect my brother. But maybe I’d been fighting the wrong enemy. Maybe… Richard was the only one I should’ve hated.

And all along, I was hating the girl he hurt the most.