The girl clutched her friend's hand tightly, as if it were the only thing holding her together. The world seemed too heavy for her shoulders, but she walked anyway, leaving behind whatever hell had trapped her inside that hotel.
His smirk faltered.
For the first time, Ethan didn't feel like teasing. Something about her fragile defiance—her silent storm—pulled at him.
But just as quickly, the revolving doors closed behind her, and she was gone.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
The moment passed. At was at that moment that he knew he fucked up, by the time he Rush to catch up with her, she was already gone.
And yet, Ethan knew deep down—he had just seen her.
The woman who had changed his brother.
The woman Adrian would tear the city apart to claim.
The woman Ethan now couldn't get out of his own head.
His lips curved into a sly grin as he pulled out his phone.
He didn't call Adrian right away.
No—why give up the advantage so soon?
"Looks like I'm not too late after all," he murmured. "This is going to be… fun."
Elena barely slept that night at Anna's house. Her friend's parents had been kind, their arms wrapping around her when she stumbled in broken, her eyes swollen with tears.
"Oh, poor thing," Anna's mother whispered, brushing her hair like a child. "You don't deserve this. If only your mother were still alive…"
Elena cried silently, trembling in their embrace, too exhausted to speak. Anna's father placed a hand on her shoulder. "You stay here as long as you want. This house will protect you."
But the next morning, something inside her still clung to hope. Maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe her father would believe her, hold her the way he once did when she was small.
Clutching the shawl around her, she made her way back to her father's mansion.
Her heart froze.
All her clothes—dresses, shoes, even her childhood keepsakes—were dumped outside in a pile. The housekeeper had tossed them carelessly, as if she were garbage.
Elena's throat closed. Her father had done this.
Hands shaking, she reached for the door, but before she could push it open, laughter spilled out from inside. Familiar voices. Cruel voices.
Marcus. Clara. And her stepmother.
Elena pressed herself against the wall, listening, her body trembling.
"Sweetie," Marcus chuckled, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Finally, we're married. I love how you give it to me—exactly how I want it. You're so sweet… unlike Elena. She never even aroused me once. Now she got what she deserves."
Elena's heart shattered.
Then Clara's honeyed voice followed, sly and triumphant. "That's why I drugged her. Did you see her face yesterday morning? She looked like she wanted to cry. Oh, poor little Elena."
The three of them burst into laughter, cruel and merciless.
Elena's hand shook as she shoved the door open.
They didn't even look surprised.
"Well, look who it is," Marcus sneered, his arm around Clara's waist. "The virgin bride who slept with a stranger. Hahaha!"
Elena's lips quivered. "So this was all part of your plan? Marcus, I loved you—"
"Oh, please," Marcus scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You became boring. Your sister satisfies me."
Clara leaned into his chest, smiling with victory.
Her stepmother's eyes blazed with malice. "Get out of this house. You don't belong here."
Elena lifted her chin, voice trembling but strong. "I am the only daughter of my father."
Her stepmother laughed coldly. "Only daughter? Not when I'm alive. I persuaded your father to give your position to Clara. You're worth nothing in his eyes. You slut."
Rage seared Elena's chest. "That's how you stole my mother's place."
SLAP.
The sting exploded across her cheek.
"Say that again," her stepmother hissed.
Elena held her burning skin, tears streaming. Then, with sudden courage, she repeated louder: "That's how you stole my mother's place!"
Her stepmother raised her hand to strike again, but this time Elena caught her wrist, eyes blazing with fury.
The door creaked.
Her father entered.
And before Elena could explain, her stepmother pulled free, clutching her cheek dramatically. "Honey, she slapped me. She called me a slut!"
Elena's eyes widened. "No! Father, she—"
Her father's face hardened, his disappointment cutting sharper than any blade. "Haven't you done enough? You came here to disgrace me again? Get out, Elena."
Her knees weakened. "Father… please…"
But he turned his back on her.
The final shred of hope in her heart crumbled.
Elena straightened, her tears blurring her vision but her voice firm. "Fine. I will leave. But you will regret this, Father."
With that, she walked out, her body trembling, the door slamming behind her like the final nail in her coffin.