Ten Years Ago…
The marble floors of the Blackwood estate were cold beneath Elena's small feet, colder than the storm raging outside.
She clutched her mother's hand tightly, trying not to stumble as they were pulled through the grand hall like unwanted shadows.
The glitter of chandeliers overhead mocked them, raining light on their humiliation.
Her mother's face was pale, lips trembling, eyes wide with disbelief.
She said nothing as Mrs. Aldridge marched ahead with crisp, self-important steps, her lips pressed in the thin line of a victor.
The Blackwoods were already assembled, watching from the staircase above as though witnessing entertainment arranged just for them.
Edward Blackwood stood at the center, tall and commanding, silver hair gleaming beneath the light, his expression carved from stone. His voice, when it came, cut through the air like a blade.
"Your services are no longer required. Leave this house, and never return."
Elena's mother flinched. "Please, sir," she begged, her voice breaking. "I didn't take it. I would never steal from you. You know me. You know—"
"Enough." Edward's glare silenced her, merciless, final. "We do not tolerate thieves."
Beside him, Victoria lounged in a cascade of silk, jewels winking at her throat.
Her smile was faint, cruel, her voice like velvet laced with poison. "Best you leave with whatever dignity you still possess."
Elena's throat tightened, the sting of unshed tears burning her eyes.
From above, laughter rang out. Marcus, a few years older than Elena, leaned against the bannister with a lazy smirk. "Guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree."
Clara giggled beside him, sweet and airy, but no less cruel for its innocence.
Elena's small fists clenched, nails biting her palms. But her mother only bent lower, bowing until her shoulders shook.
"It isn't true," she whispered hoarsely. "Please, believe me—"
Edward turned away, dismissing her like a stain on his polished floors. He didn't even look at them again.
The guards arrived, their footsteps echoing like thunder. Rough hands seized her mother's arms, dragging them both toward the door.
Elena cried out, beating her fists against them, but her voice was swallowed by the vastness of the hall.
Clara's giggles followed them down the steps. Marcus's smirk was the last thing Elena saw before the heavy doors swung open.
The night swallowed them whole.
Rain poured down in sheets, soaking their clothes, plastering Elena's dark hair against her face.
The cold cut through her bones, but she clung to her mother, who stumbled in the mud, her sobs tearing free like wounds.
They reached the end of the drive, the estate's golden windows blazing behind them, warm and unreachable.
To Elena, they no longer looked like lights; they looked like cruel stars, burning with the Blackwoods' laughter, their judgment, their lies.
Her mother collapsed to her knees, sinking into the muck. "They lied," she whispered, voice hoarse and broken. "They lied, and no one will believe us."
Elena wrapped her arms around her, fury burning hotter than the storm.
She was only a child, but rage seared her small body, carving itself into her heart.
She lifted her head, her gaze fixed on the glittering mansion in the distance. Hatred crystallized, sharp and unyielding.
One day, she would come back.
One day, she would make them pay. Vengeance was her vow.
But unfortunately...
Desire will be her downfall.
She came back to destroy the Blackwoods… not to fall for one. Her heart burned for revenge; until he set it on fire.
Enemies by blood. Lovers by fate. One lie destroyed her family. One touch could destroy her soul.