The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 112: The Devil’s Bargain

Amira felt the ground tilt. The thought of being a charity case for the rest of her life, of having to ask Amara for every cent, made her blood boil.

"I can help you," Sebastian whispered, leaning in so close she could smell the expensive tobacco on his breath. "I can make sure that will never come to the surface. You could have half of everything. Or, if you’re feeling as greedy as your sister is acting... You could have all of it. Leaving Amara with nothing."

Amira’s heart thudded. "What do you want, Sebastian? What’s the price?"

"Nothing for me," he lied easily. "Just bring Amara to this address." He slid a small, embossed card into her hand

Amira stared at the card, then back at him, her eyes wide with realization. "You’re crazy. I thought you were over this obsession. You just gave her back the shares!"

"I am over it," Sebastian laughed, a harsh, hollow sound. "I can have any woman I want. But there is one thing...one thing only Amara is allowed to give. I swear I won’t hurt her. You know I love her. If you’re in, I’ll tell you the rest of the plan."

"What makes you think I’d ever help you?" Amira spat.

Sebastian’s expression shifted, becoming chillingly soft. "Because you need the money, Amira. Think of Leo. He’s a self-made architect, isn’t he? He needs your influence. Everyone approaches people for a reason. Maybe he loves you but love is just the drive. It needs fuel to keep going. Will he still love the version of you that is penniless and powerless?"

The mention of Leo was the breaking point. The thought of losing the only man who looked at her without judgment, the man who told her she was enough, was more than Amira could bear.

"Fine," Amira whispered, her fingers curling tightly around the card. "I’m in. But only if you tell me the plan first."

Sebastian smiled, a predatory curve of the lips that didn’t reach his eyes. "I’ll tell you everything. But first, you have a role to play. Go back home and fix that ’sweet’ relationship with your sister. Be the grieving, supportive twin again. You need her to trust you before we move."

"Let me know when you do."

Sebastian didn’t wait for a reply.

He simply turned, his polished shoes brushing softly against the stone path as he walked away unhurried, composed, like a man who had already set something in motion and didn’t need to look back.

Amira did.

She stood there, unmoving, her gaze fixed on his retreating figure until he disappeared beyond the hedges, swallowed by the quiet elegance of the gardens.

Only then did she look down. The paper card. Still in her hand. She hadn’t even realized when he’d placed it there.

Her fingers tightened around it slowly, the edges crumpling under the pressure as something sharp twisted inside her chest. A breath left her uneven.

Heavy. Begging. That’s what this felt like. Waiting. Hoping.

Standing on the sidelines of her own life, watching decisions being made without her, watching everything she should have had slip further and further out of reach.

Her jaw clenched.

"No," she whispered under her breath. The word wasn’t loud. But it was firm. She had tried. God knew she had tried. Tried to be the good daughter. Tried to be the loving sister. Tried to close the distance between her and Amara, even when it felt like she was always the one reaching... always the one bending.

And still. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. A bitter laugh slipped past her lips, hollow and disbelieving.

"How could he?" she muttered, her voice cracking despite her effort to hold it steady.

Her father. The man whose approval she had chased for years. The man she had believed wanted to believe loved her just as much. And yet, in the end... Nothing.

Not even a gesture. Not even a thought. Her grip on the paper tightened further.

"And you..." she whispered, her thoughts shifting, her eyes burning now not just with grief, but something darker. "You just let it happen." Her mother. Her aunt. Women who had stood by. Watched. Said nothing. How could they?

How could all of them decide her worth so easily? Amira blinked hard, forcing the tears back before they could fall. Crying wouldn’t change anything. It never had.

Her shoulders straightened slowly, her posture shifting as something inside her settled not peace, not acceptance. But resolve. Cold. Clear. If no one was going to fight for her... Then she would.

For herself. For what was hers. Amara had Julian. That much was obvious. Someone who would stand beside her, protect her, choose her again and again.

Amira’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I’ll have that too," she murmured quietly.

Leo. The thought of him softened something in her, but only for a second. Then it hardened again into determination. She wouldn’t lose everything. Not her place. Not her future. Not him.

Her fingers slowly unfolded the crumpled paper, her eyes scanning it briefly before folding it back with more care this time as it mattered now.

Like it was a beginning. She turned away from the gardens, her steps steady, deliberate as she made her way back toward the house. Back into the game. Because this? This wasn’t about fairness anymore. It was about survival. And Amira had finally decided. She was done asking.

—-

The evening air at the Pedro estate was thick and still, the kind of heavy quiet that precedes a tropical storm. Amara was in the library, staring at a stack of reports she couldn’t focus on, when the door creaked open.

Amira stood there, her red hair uncharacteristically neat, her eyes downcast. She looked small, stripped of the jagged defensive anger she had carried since the funeral.

"Amara?" she whispered, stepping into the room. Her voice was thick, as if she had been crying for hours. "Can we talk? Please?"

Amara stood up, her protective instincts immediately warring with her exhaustion. "Amira, I don’t want to fight anymore. I just can’t."

"I know," Amira said, crossing the room and sinking onto the sofa. She reached out, her hand trembling as she took Amara’s. "I’ve been... I’ve been a nightmare. I’m so sorry. I think the grief just twisted me into my old self. Seeing you take over the company... I felt like I was losing Mother all over again, and I took it out on the only person who actually loves me."

"I talked to Leo. He told me I was being unfair to you. You’re carrying everything, and all I’ve done is add to the weight. I don’t care about the money or the seats, Amara. I just want my sister back."

She pulled Amara into a tight, desperate embrace. To Amara, it felt like the sister she grew up with, warm and familiar. She couldn’t see the cold, calculating look in Amira’s eyes as they drifted to the desk where the mysterious gift from Sebastian sat.