Three years ago, my mother was operated on by a doctor who was drunk after a party. She made a bet with her colleagues that she could still save a patient even with the influence of alcohol.
But one wrong cut, one careless slip, and instead of healing, my mother was condemned to a coma.
My brother Paul, who is a lawyer, tried to fight back. He filed a lawsuit against the hospital and that doctor—Kyline. He wanted justice for our mother, for our family. But the hospital was powerful, and so was she.
Somehow, they twisted everything. Evidence disappeared, stories were rewritten, and suddenly Paul was branded a liar. They accused him of defamation. They dragged his name through the mud, painted him unstable. He was the one thrown in jail, lost his license, while the real criminal walked free.
I refused to stay silent. I went to the media. I told them the truth. I begged the world to listen. But instead of sympathy, I was mocked. They called me dramatic, vindictive. Said I was ruining the reputation of a “good” doctor. And as the stories spread, investors began pulling out of our company. One by one, they left until our father’s legacy, the empire he had built with his blood, was crumbling in front of me.
I was desperate.
That was when Brendon came.
He was powerful, wealthy, and worst of all—someone I had secretly admired even before all of this. When he acquired our company, he offered me marriage. No ceremony, no vows, no romance—just a certificate, just his name.
He promised me stability, promised that my mother would continue to receive treatment, promised to protect me in exchange for my submission.
I said yes.
Even if it was a prison, it was better than watching everything fall apart. I told myself I could be a good wife, even if I wasn’t loved.
And today… was our third anniversary.
I smiled faintly at the pregnancy test in my hands. Positive. I traced my fingers over the faint pink lines, my heart swelling. Brendon had always wanted an heir, someone to carry on his name.
Maybe this would make him see me differently. Maybe this would change everything. I imagined his face softening, imagined the way he would hold me, the way he might finally love me fully… not because he needed to.
I was preparing the surprise when I saw it—something glimmering on his desk. A necklace. Not just any necklace, but the Audrey Hepburn-inspired gold set I had been longing for.
My breath caught. He remembered. He actually remembered.
My hands trembled as I clasped it around my neck, staring at my reflection. For the first time in years, I felt… beautiful. Wanted.
The door opened.
Brendon’s eyes went immediately to the necklace. His face darkened. “How dare you wear that?”
I blinked, confused. “I… I thought… it was for me. For our anniversary—”
He stormed forward, ripping it from my neck so roughly it scratched my skin. “This isn’t for you. Don’t flatter yourself. Why would I waste something this expensive on you?”
My chest tightened, the words sinking like knives. “But I thought—”
“You thought wrong.” His voice was sharp, merciless. “Do you know how much I’m already paying for your mother’s treatment? That’s enough generosity. About the anniversary—cancel it. I’m busy. Stay here, take care of your mother and scrub the floor. That’s all you’re good for.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I swallowed them down. “But Brendon… I have something to tell you. A surprise—”
“I don’t care.” His voice was ice. He grabbed his coat. “I won’t be home tonight. Don’t wait for me. And don’t ever touch what doesn’t belong to you again.”
The door slammed.
I sank to my knees. My body was shaking with sobs. But the next day, I still went to the riverside restaurant.
It had always been my dream to dine by the Golden Bridge, with its lights shimmering across the water. Even if he didn’t come, I would go. Even if I was alone, I wanted to feel alive.
The hostess smiled gently when I arrived. “Right this way, ma’am. We have a VIP room prepared for you.”
The room had a balcony that overlooked the water. It was breathtaking. I ate quietly, convincing myself this was enough. That I could be content, even if it was just me.
And then I heard it.
A laugh. Familiar. From the balcony next to mine.
I froze.
Brendon.
My heart pounded as I edged closer, careful not to be seen.
And then another voice—light, feminine, unmistakable. Kyline. That doctor. Also his childhood friend… and lover. The one who ran away three years ago and Brendon promised me he would make her pay… yet this betrayal instead?
I pressed a trembling hand over my mouth.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Kyline asked softly. “It’s your anniversary, isn’t it?”
Brendon laughed. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just get her something cheap. She won’t mind. Now that you’re here, I’ll divorce her. She was just convenient—I needed their business. You know I only married her so she wouldn’t dare harm you again.”
Kyline’s voice faltered. “I’m sorry about her mother…”
“Oh, come on,” Brendon said with a chuckle. “Even if you hadn’t been drunk that time, her mother would’ve ended up the same. She’s weak. They all are. Once I settle the billion-dollar account using her designs—since investors still trust her father’s name—I’ll take everything. Then I’ll pull the plug on her mother. And her brother? He’ll rot in jail. Once they’re gone, we can finally be together.”
My knees gave out. My vision blurred. I clamped my hand harder over my mouth to keep from screaming.
No. No, this couldn’t be real.
But it was.
I stumbled out of the restaurant, blinded by tears. My body shook as I ran, heart hammering so violently I thought it would explode.
Run. Just run.
I barely saw the headlights.
A screech. A blinding flash. Pain.
And then—darkness.
When my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I noticed was that the ceiling wasn’t mine. It was too white, too bright, too pristine.
My heart lurched as I sat up quickly, only to wince at the pain shooting across my body. Panic clawed at me, my breath catching in my throat.
Where was I?
“Ma’am, please.” A soft voice broke the silence. I whipped my head around and saw a maid standing near the corner, hands clasped in front of her. “You should take a rest. You’re not fine yet.”
My hands gripped the sheets. “Where am I? Where did you take me? Where’s my baby?” My voice cracked as I forced myself to sit straighter. “Tell me now!”
Before she could answer, a low, mocking laugh echoed from the doorway.
“Oh, come on, Stephanie. Chill. You’re no longer in danger.”
My blood ran cold at the sound of that baritone voice. Slowly, I turned, and my eyes widened.
“Inigo…” I whispered.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, the same arrogant smirk that had haunted me since high school plastered on his face. Of all people, it had to be him. My enemy, my rival in everything—grades, sports, even family expectations. Our fathers were business partners once, close friends, and there had been talks of an engagement back then. But I had refused. I hated him.
Yet here he was.
“Why am I here? What am I doing in your place?” I demanded, my voice trembling.
He stepped inside, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Because, dear Stephanie, you bumped into my car. I saved you.”
“My… my baby,” I stammered, clutching my stomach.
“All good,” Inigo replied smoothly. “The baby is fine. But you?” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “You’re not fine at all. Knowing what you just learned? That your precious husband is nothing but a traitor? I think the real question is—what will you do now?”
My throat tightened. “That’s none of your business.”
He chuckled darkly. “Oh, but it is. Why don’t you divorce him and marry me? Like you should have from the start.”
The audacity of him made my blood boil. “No! I will not do that! I hate you.”
“Still so fiery.” He grinned, unbothered. “That’s why I like you.” With a snap of his fingers, the maid turned on the television mounted on the wall. My heart stopped as the broadcast came into view.
There she was. Kyline. Smiling. Hand in hand with Brendon.
The caption burned into my brain: Love is sweeter the second time around.
So that was it. That was why I was hidden as a wife. Why there were no anniversaries, no public appearances, no pride in calling me his own. He had been waiting. Waiting for her to come back.
I exhaled shakily, the fight draining from me. “Fine. I’ll marry you.” The words tasted bitter, but my chest ached with resolve. “But first… I need to go home. I need to settle things. Pick me up again in four days.”
Inigo studied me for a moment before smirking. “Consider it done.”
Hours later, I was escorted home in a limousine. The tinted windows hid my face from the world, but my heart was pounding. As the gates of the Smith mansion loomed closer, I gripped the seat, bracing myself.
The doors opened, and there he was—Brendon.
He stormed down the steps, his expression thunderous. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you nonstop! And whose limousine is that?”
My lips curved into a humorless smile. “No one.”
“No one?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you cheating on me?”
I laughed bitterly. “Really? Me? Or was it you?”
His jaw clenched. “What are you saying? You come attacking me because our anniversary didn’t happen? I told you I was busy!”
“Busy with what?” I snapped, my voice trembling.
Before he could reply, a soft sob broke through. We both turned. Kyline stood at the door, tears streaming down her face, clutching a bouquet of flowers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Are you fighting because of me? I shouldn’t have come back, but I just wanted to come clean. To say sorry about your mother. I know it’s wrong timing.”
My eyes darted to her neck—and froze. The necklace. The Audrey Hepburn gold set. The one I thought was mine. It gleamed against her skin.
Rage boiled inside me.
“You harmed my mother!” I spat, stepping forward. “Do you think ‘sorry’ is enough?”
Kyline reached out to touch me. “Stephanie, please—”
I slapped her hand away. Hard. She stumbled, nearly losing her balance.
“Stephanie!” Brendon roared, rushing to Kyline’s side. His face twisted with fury. “Are you insane? She came here to apologize, and you dare harm her?”
Tears blurred my vision. “I don’t need her apology! She’s evil! You promised me—you said you would make her pay. So why now?”
“Enough!” Brendon shouted. His eyes were sharp, filled with disgust. “Do you really believe that? I’ve known her longer than you. She doesn’t deserve your hatred. Apologize to her. Now.”
I shook my head. “No.”
His voice dropped, low and threatening. “If you don’t, I’ll pull the plug on your mother’s life support.”
My heart stopped. “You… you would really kill my mother for her?”
“Yes.” His answer was cold, merciless. “So kneel. Now. And kiss her shoes.”
Kyline gasped, shaking her head. “Brendon, no—there’s no need for that—”
But Brendon’s glare silenced her.
Tears streamed down my face as my knees buckled. I lowered myself to the floor, humiliation burning through every vein. Slowly, painfully, I bent forward and pressed my lips to Kyline’s shoes.
Satisfied, Brendon pulled Kyline close and led her away, leaving me broken on the marble floor.
Alone.
I pressed my fists against my chest and cried until my body shook. But even as despair consumed me, a flicker of resolve sparked deep inside. Just a few more days. Four days, and I’d be gone. No one would ever harm me again.
Wiping my tears, I staggered to my room. My hands trembled as I picked up my phone, but my voice was steady when the line connected.
“Hello?”
“This is Stephanie Smith,” I whispered. “I want to file for divorce. File the papers.”
“I want to divorce Brendon Smith,” I whispered into the phone, clutching it so tightly my knuckles whitened. “File the papers.”
On the other end, my lawyer sighed, his voice heavy with caution. “Stephanie… you know that’s impossible. What about your mother? She’s still under treatment in the Smith-funded hospital. If you divorce him now, she’ll lose everything. She’ll die.”
My throat ached, but I steadied my voice. “Then I’ll transfer her. As soon as possible. I’ll use every last cent of my remaining money if I have to.”
“Stephanie—”
“No one can stop me. File the divorce,” I cut him off, my tone sharper than I’d ever dared before. “But send the papers on the day of the investors’ signing. The same day of the design proposal. That’s when I want Brendon to see them.”
There was silence, then a reluctant murmur. “As you wish.”
I ended the call before my courage faltered. My legs trembled as I stood, moving toward the closet. One by one, I yanked clothes off their hangers, tossing them carelessly into a suitcase. My jewelry, the ones Brendon had bought to make me believe he cares for me, I swept into the trash bin. I wanted nothing that tied me to him. Nothing.
I was about to rip the framed photo of our so-called wedding day—just a paper-signing in his office, no vows, no ceremony—when the door burst open.
Brendon strode inside without knocking, his tone curt. “Cook something. We have visitors tonight.”
I turned, jaw tight. “I’m not feeling well.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make excuses. You’ll do it.”
Before I could protest, his hand pressed firmly against my shoulder, shoving me backward toward the door. I stumbled but caught myself, my chest burning with humiliation. Once again, my voice didn’t matter.
By evening, the house was alive with chatter. Expensive shoes clacked against the marble floor, laughter rang from the living room, and champagne flowed freely. And me? I was in the kitchen, apron tied around my waist, serving plates to strangers as though I were nothing more than the help.
When I finally carried out a tray, balancing dishes as my arms shook, I froze. Eyes turned toward me. One of the guests, a tall man with a polished smile, asked casually, “And who is this?”
Brendon didn’t even blink. “My new maid.”
The room chuckled. My ears rang.
“She looks familiar,” another chimed in. “Wasn’t she the one who tried to smear Kyline’s name years ago? The one who went against her on national news?”
“Oh, how poetic,” someone laughed. “To take her in as a maid. What mercy, Brendon. What mercy, Kyline.”
The sound of laughter crashed over me like waves. I clenched the tray tighter, forcing my hands not to tremble.
Kyline, seated gracefully beside Brendon, smiled sweetly—her eyes glinting with victory. “Please, don’t mock her. It’s my fault. I caused her family pain, and this is my burden to bear. But she has been so kind to forgive me.” She placed a delicate hand over her chest. “I promise I’ll help take care of her mother, too. She doesn’t need to suffer anymore.”
Applause erupted.
“Then she should show gratitude,” a woman sneered. “Kiss her feet. Thank her for her kindness.”
My vision blurred. But I didn’t move. I stood frozen, staring past them, beyond them, into nothingness. I ignored every mocking word, every laugh, every whisper that I didn’t belong.
When I finally retreated, Brendon followed, slamming the door shut behind us. His voice was ice. “What the hell was that? They were speaking to you. And you just walked away?”
I spun around, my composure cracking. “They were mocking me, Brendon! Do you even see what you’ve reduced me to?”
“Dramatic,” he spat. “Overacting again. Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think I want to parade you like this? I’m doing it for you. If I don’t keep Kyline close, she’ll come after you. She’ll attack you. Or your mother. Everything I do, I do for you.”
Gaslighting. Always gaslighting.
I shook my head, tears streaming. “No. You do it for yourself. For her.”
Before he could reply, a scream tore through the crowd outside. Glass shattered. Panic rippled through the guests.
“Poison!” someone shouted. “The food—something’s wrong!”
I rushed out just in time to see chaos unfolding. Several guests clutched their stomachs, faces pale. One woman collapsed onto the floor, vomiting violently. And then, Kyline herself doubled over, retching, tears streaking her cheeks.
All eyes swiveled toward me.
Whispers erupted like wildfire. It was her. The maid. The wife. She poisoned the food.
Within minutes, the sirens wailed and ambulances whisked the guests away. I found myself in the hospital again, hands trembling, my mind reeling.
Brendon’s fury scorched the air as he cornered me in a sterile corridor. “Did you do this?” he demanded, his face twisted in rage.
I shook my head frantically. “No! Why would I poison anyone? Why would I hurt them? Brendon, I didn’t—”
“Liar!” His roar silenced everything around me. “You wanted revenge. You humiliated me in front of my investors. Do you even understand what you’ve done?”
“I swear, I didn’t—”
But before I could finish, his hand cracked across my face. The impact sent me sprawling against the cold hospital wall.
“Hit her again,” he barked to the men beside him. “Teach her a lesson.”
The blows rained down. Fists, boots, strikes that left me gasping and broken. I tried to shield my stomach, to protect the tiny life inside me, but the pain was relentless.
Darkness swallowed me.
When I woke, every part of my body ached. My lips were swollen, my ribs screamed with each shallow breath, and blood dried sticky on my skin.
My first words were a whisper. “My baby… where’s my baby?”
The nurse’s eyes glistened with sympathy as she clutched the clipboard to her chest. Her lips trembled when she finally spoke, soft but heavy as a funeral bell.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. The baby didn’t make it.”
The nurse’s eyes glistened with sympathy as she clutched the clipboard to her chest. Her lips trembled when she finally spoke, soft but heavy as a funeral bell.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. The baby didn’t make it.”
The words tore through me like a blade. My chest constricted, my throat burned, but no sound came out. My hands clutched my stomach instinctively, searching for life that was no longer there. My child—my only anchor of hope—was gone.
Not because of fate, but because of them. Because of Brendon. Because of the cruelty of the man I once called my husband.
I didn’t want this. I never wanted to lose my baby. I had endured the humiliation, the endless gaslighting, the insults, because I thought I could at least protect the child inside me. But now? All gone.
Even if I hated Brendon, even if he was the worst mistake of my life, the child wasn’t him. The child was mine. A piece of me. A life. And no matter how broken I was, I never wanted to lose that life.
My hands trembled as they pressed against my stomach, empty now. My lips shook as words tumbled out in a whisper only I could hear.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, baby. I should have protected you. I should have fought harder. Please forgive me.”
Tears burned my cheeks as guilt swallowed me whole. It wasn’t fair. The baby had done nothing wrong, yet paid the price for the cruelty of the people around me.
The door creaked open. Brendon walked in, his expression unreadable, as though nothing had happened. His gaze flickered briefly to me, then to the nurse, before settling coldly back on me.
“You need to prepare yourself,” he said, his voice like ice. “There will be a press conference. You’re going to make a public apology.”
I stared at him in disbelief. My lips trembled. “Why would I apologize when I didn’t do anything wrong?”
“You did.” His tone sharpened. “You prepared the food.”
“No, I didn’t!” My voice cracked. “It was the maid. I only helped serve. I would never harm anyone—never!”
Brendon’s jaw clenched, his eyes dark with fury. “Really? I don’t care. The guests are already filing a case against us. If you don’t fix this, they’ll send you to jail.”
My whole body shook. “I lost my baby because of you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I was pregnant, Brendon. Pregnant. And now—”
He cut me off with a scoff. “So what? It’s just a baby. Don’t use that as an excuse.” His words were like poison, each syllable killing whatever was left of my heart. He leaned closer, his breath chilling against my ear. “If you refuse me again, I won’t have a choice but to kill your mother. Or your brother. Do you want that?”
My body went numb. He knew exactly where to strike—my weakest points, the people I still fought to protect.
A sigh escaped my lips, heavy with defeat. “Fine.”
Moments later, a maid entered the room, carrying a plain dress and some powder. She didn’t look at me with kindness—only duty. They made me stand before the mirror, combing my hair harshly, powdering over the bruises.
Yet no matter how they tried, my reflection looked more like a ghost than a wife. My clothes were dull, my eyes swollen, my figure ragged. I wasn’t a woman anymore—I was a shadow.
When I stood at the press conference podium, dozens of cameras flashed like daggers. Reporters whispered, waiting for me to crumble. In my trembling hands was a paper Brendon had prepared. My throat felt raw, my voice barely mine as I read aloud.
“I… I am sorry for the incident at our dinner party. It was my fault. I should have been more careful. I never meant harm to anyone. I take full responsibility. But please, don’t send me to jail. I beg you.”
The room erupted with questions, mocking laughter, judgmental stares. I bowed my head, biting my lip until I tasted blood. Tears blurred the letters in front of me, but I forced myself to finish. Because if I didn’t, my mother would die. My brother would die.
By the time I stepped off the stage, the damage was done. The crowd’s whispers trailed after me like knives. She’s the villain. She tried to poison them. She’s lucky Kyline forgave her.
When I returned home that evening, I walked into the living room only to find Kyline sitting comfortably on the sofa, sipping tea as though she owned the place. Her smile was warm, her voice dripping with false kindness.
“Stephanie,” she said, rising to meet me. “Thank you for what you did today. I know it must have been hard, but that is for the better. Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to make sure your mother is taken care of.”
Her words stabbed deeper than any blade. I should have screamed, should have clawed the smile off her face, but all strength had left me. Instead, I reached for my finger.
The wedding band—Brendon’s ring. The ring I had once worn with pride, convincing myself it meant something. Slowly, I slid it off and pressed it into her palm.
“Don’t worry,” I said, my voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. “You won’t need to worry about me anymore. Because you’ll never see me again.”
Kyline blinked, stunned.
I forced a bitter smile. “Have fun being the wife.”
And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving behind the last piece of myself I had given to Brendon.
I tore through my drawers, my hands shaking as I pulled out files, clothes, anything that could hide it. My passport. It had to be here. It was my only way out, my only proof that I still had the right to choose where I could go. But the drawer was empty, the lock box broken.
“No…” I whispered, panic rising in my throat. I searched again, scattering papers across the floor, but it wasn’t there.
A strange smell drifted in through the window, acrid and bitter. Burning. My chest tightened as I ran to the glass, pushing it open. Down in the yard, flames licked at the air, curling around something too familiar. Fabric. Dresses. My mother’s.
I bolted down the stairs, my heart in my ears, and stumbled into the yard. The sight stole the air from my lungs. My mother’s clothes—her favorite shawl, her nightgowns, the ones I had folded carefully every week—were nothing but ashes.
And beside the fire stood Kyline, her arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips.
“What are you doing?!” I screamed, running forward, but a maid caught my wrist, holding me back.
“Ma’am, it was Kyline’s order,” the maid whispered quickly, eyes darting nervously. “She said this room will be hers now. She doesn’t want any of your things left. She… said you wouldn’t care cause you’re useless.”
My knees nearly gave way.
I turned on Kyline, fury ripping through me. “You had no right! Those were my mother’s things! How dare you—”
Kyline shrugged, tilting her head as if amused by my desperation. “Relax. The house needs renovation. And your mess only clutters it. You should be thanking me. Don’t worry—once this is my room, everything will look perfect.”
Before I could speak, her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking hard until I cried out.
“You think you can still stand against me?” she hissed, her breath hot against my ear. “You should’ve died the moment your mother fell into that coma. At least then Brendon wouldn’t have wasted years pretending with you.”
Rage burned in my chest, but before I could strike her back, a shadow fell across us. Brendon.
His eyes were fire, but not for her. For me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“She—she started it—” I tried, but he didn’t listen. His hand clamped around my arm, shoving me so hard I stumbled against the wall.
“You never learn,” he growled, dragging me into the house. He slammed the bedroom door shut, locking it with a sharp click. Then his palm cracked across my face, sharp enough that my cheek burned.
“You will not leave this room unless I tell you so,” he spat. “And you will finish the designs for tomorrow. If you try anything stupid—your family dies. Do you hear me? Your mother. Your brother. Gone.”
Tears blurred my vision as I sank against the wall, my cheek stinging, my pride bleeding. I hugged myself, shaking. He left me there, the echo of the lock like a prison bell.
Hours passed before my phone lit up, vibrating against the floor where it had fallen. My heart lurched when I saw the caller ID. Unknown number. I hesitated, then answered.
“Stephanie.”
I froze. “Paul?” My voice cracked.
“Yes. It’s me.” His voice was hurried, but steady. “I got out. Inigo helped. We’re moving Mother tonight, she’ll be safe.”
Relief crashed over me like a wave. “Thank God… Paul, please, get me out of here. I can’t—”
“I will. Tomorrow. Hang in there. Just… survive.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “I’ll wait.”
The line went dead. My tears fell silently this time, not of despair, but of hope.
I wiped my face and dragged myself to the desk. If Brendon wanted designs, I’d give them. But not to him. No. I copied everything into a flash drive, every sketch, every proof of his theft, his illegal transactions, his betrayal. I sent it all to Inigo. Along with a message: Expose him. End him.
Then I called the investors myself, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Cancel tomorrow’s signing. You’ll receive proof of everything soon.”
The rest of the night blurred into exhaustion. My stomach growled, but when I slipped out quietly to the hallway, voices stopped me cold. Moaning. Laughter. I didn’t need to peek to know. Kyline. Brendon. Their sounds made bile rise in my throat.
I stumbled back to the room, clutched the flash drive, and prayed for midnight.
When Brendon returned, his tie loose, his smirk cruel, he found me at the desk. “Who told you to get out? Are you done?”
I forced myself to meet his eyes, steady. “Yes. Here.” I handed him the flash drive, a copy of what I had already sent away.
“Good,” he said, smug. “Tomorrow, you’ll present it yourself. Convince the investors. If you fail, everything falls apart.”
The next morning, I woke before dawn hoping that I could leave peacefully. I didn’t expect to be in the same car as Brendon as he usually leave without me.
“There’s a private meeting before the investors’ signing tonight. Some of the top shareholders are throwing a party, and you’re coming.”
My chest tightened. “Can’t you handle it alone? I—”
“No.” His voice snapped like a whip. “We’re leaving together so I know you wouldn’t run from me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone, my hands trembling. For a moment, despair washed over me like a tide, but then I remembered Paul. I quickly typed a message: Change of plans. They’re taking me on the yacht first. Please… help.
The yacht gleamed under the sun. I stood near the railing, my hands gripping the polished steel. The sea stretched endlessly before me, so vast, so free. I closed my eyes, the salty wind whipping against my face, whispering temptation.
“Thinking of jumping?”
My eyes snapped open. Kyline stood beside me.
“What do you need?” I asked, my voice tight.
“Just wanted to remind you… after today, make sure you disappear. Do you understand?”
I turned to her, my chest burning. “Why? Why do you need me gone so badly? You already have everything—my mother, my father’s dead, my brother in jail, even Brendon. You’ve destroyed everything I loved. What more do you want? My life? Is that it? Do you want me dead so this can finally end?”
Kyline tilted her head, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Now that you mention it… that’s not such a bad idea.”
My blood turned to ice.
“I’m the one he’s loved since we were kids, Stephanie. You were just a placeholder. A distraction. No matter what happens, Brendon will always protect me. Always. I’ll never lose to you. It’s time to say goodbye.”
Her smile widened. And before I could even gasp—she shoved me. The railing slipped from my grip. My body lurched forward, the world tilting, the sea rising up to meet me.
Now I had finally achieved my goal as I closed my eyes and let myself sink deep into the sea.
Then, I sent out the emergency signal.
I smiled, knowing I had succeeded.
Soon, I would be able to completely escape from this place full of darkness, control, and betrayal.
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