Devilish secretary - Chapter 221

Chapter 221: Chapter 221 I never lose
Grandma Bria sat on the soft couch of the well-decorated private clinic, dabbing the corner of her eye with a lace handkerchief. Her acting was flawless…years of manipulation had made her a master at fake tears. Her posture was elegant, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere.

“I just got to know… my grandson has DID,” she sniffled, her lips trembling. “I didn’t even know when or how this happened. Why would he hide such a thing from me? I raised him with all my love…”

Across from her, the seasoned physiotherapist..Dr. Kalra, a calm, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair..nodded empathetically, though his eyes remained sharp. He’d seen many types of families, and not all tears were honest.

“DID patients tend to hide their condition from others,” he explained gently. “They feel ashamed, exposed. Their personalities protect them. The mind splits itself to survive trauma. Especially childhood trauma.”

“Childhood trauma?” Grandma Bria repeated softly, her hand going to her chest. “Doctor, how? He was so well-behaved as a child. Are you saying he may have suffered… abuse?” she whispered, trying to look devastated while carefully watching the doctor’s every word.

Dr. Kalra nodded slowly. “Yes. Abuse, neglect, emotional instability… these things can deeply affect a child’s mental state. Sometimes it happens in school. Sometimes… it happens even at home without the elders realizing it. Children hide pain very well.”

Bria’s heart skipped…not out of guilt, but calculation.

“My poor child,” she whimpered, bringing her handkerchief to her eyes again. “Doctor… I just want to help him now. Tell me, what triggers I should avoid? I don’t want him to break down again.”

Dr. Kalra leaned back, thoughtful. “Triggers can be anything tied to past trauma…locations, smells, names, harsh words, authority figures. If your grandson grew up under pressure to be perfect, that too could become a trigger.”

Bria’s expression faltered for a second but she quickly replaced it with a soft nod. “I just want to see him healthy again, Doctor. I want to protect him… no matter what.”

But in her heart, her thoughts were sharp as blades.

So that’s his weakness now… personalities. Triggers. Childhood.

She didn’t come here out of concern. She came to gather data.

Because once Grandma Bria had the first piece of the puzzle, She never stopped until she controlled the whole board.

Dr. Kalra continued. “Triggers are external or internal cues that can awaken another identity or personality..in DID patients. They’re tied to memories or emotions that the original identity can’t handle.”

Bria gave a light gasp, covering her mouth as if horrified. “Oh, heavens! So something as simple as a word or sound could… bring out another side of him?”

“Sometimes, yes,” the doctor replied. “It’s not always dramatic. But yes smells, voices, music, objects, even certain behaviors can act as emotional reminders. If the trauma is deep, the response can be.”

Bria lowered her eyes, as if thinking deeply. Then she gave a soft, hesitant chuckle.

“Oh dear, that makes it… quite difficult for family, doesn’t it?” she said with a tired smile. “After all, we wouldn’t want to… accidentally upset them. It’s not like they come with a list of things to avoid, do they?”

Dr. Kalra chuckled kindly. “I understand. It’s why therapy is so important. Slowly, with sessions, we identify what causes distress.”

Bria’s eyes lit up subtly.

She leaned in slightly, pretending to be timid.

“Would you say… hmm… things like authority pressure, or being scolded…would that make them uncomfortable?” she asked innocently. “He was always such a perfectionist child, I used to worry whether I was too strict.”

Kalra nodded slowly. “Yes, that could very well be one of the triggers. Feeling like they’re being controlled or criticized can lead to stress or a switch. Often, children who were forced to suppress themselves develop protector personalities. Or angry ones.”

“Protector?” Bria echoed softly.

“Yes. Some identities are born just to shield the original self. Calm ones. Or aggressive ones,” he explained. “They step in when the original can’t handle a situation.”

Bria made a thoughtful sound. “How… fascinating. And terrifying,” she whispered. “Is it possible for someone to have more than one personalities?” she asked, pretending to be naive.

Dr. Kalra raised a brow. “It’s rare but possible. Each personality serves a function..innocence, control, rage, logic. Sometimes, the patient doesn’t even know how many they have.”

Bria lowered her head. “I see. I’ll be careful not to push him…” she said gently.

But inside her mind was a whirlwind of calculation.

She rose from the chair with a soft smile. “Thank you, Doctor. I feel… more enlightened now.”

But her eyes glinted with something far from love.

Now that she knew their names…

She would find their weaknesses…One by one.

As Grandma Bria walked out of the clinic. Her mind was busy calculating, plotting, stacking the information she had just gathered like cards in a deck ready to be played.

The sunlight outside made her squint, and just as she reached her black luxury car, her phone rang.

Caller ID: “Nyom.”

Her jaw ticked.

She slid into the backseat with a sigh, barely nodding at the driver, and answered the call in a low, irritated tone.

“What do you want, Nyom?”

His voice crackled through, slow and lazy. “Briaaa… your tone hurts, you know that? I’m your brother. You used to cry behind me like a little goat when we were young.”

She rolled her eyes. “And now I feel like crying because you exist.”

He cackled shamelessly. “Still sharp, even with your bones creaking. Guess age didn’t rot your tongue yet.”

She didn’t laugh.

“Spare me your village humor. Why did you call?”

There was a pause. Then his tone dropped into something vaguely serious. “I heard Sebastian’s got… a mental condition.”

Bria’s fingers froze mid-air as she reached for her handbag.

“…You’re getting old and nosy,” she said flatly. “Where did you hear that?”

“I have my ways. You forget which family we belong to?” he chuckled. “Anyway, I’m just warning you, Bria. Don’t push too far. That boy has the power to end us both.”

Bria scoffed, tossing her sunglasses onto the seat beside her. “Please. He’s my grandson. No matter how many sides he’s split into, I raised him. He still walks in shoes I chose.”

“Bria…” Nyom’s tone was slower now, more pointed. “You’re not playing chess with a pawn anymore. That boy’s turned into a wild card. You touch one wrong square and you’ll lose your Queen.”

She stared out of the window, lips curling into a thin, dangerous smile.

“I am the Queen, dear brother. And I never lose.”

She hung up the phone, tossed it into her purse.