The water was ice.
It wrapped around her like chains, dragging her down into the dark.
Elara didn't fight it.
For the first time in her life, she didn't fight for anything.
The river swallowed her screams as her body sank deeper, her white dress flowing like a ghost beneath the surface. The cold burned her lungs, but the pain was nothing compared to what already lived inside her chest.
And in that quiet, suffocating darkness, the memories began to surface.
She saw her mother, Isabella Moore, smiling — that soft, gentle smile she used to wear when brushing Elara's hair before school.
"Always be kind, my love," Isabella used to say. "Even when the world isn't."
Her mother had died when Elara was only twelve. The car accident that took her life left Elara alone with her father — CharlesVance, a man who once held her hand at the funeral but never looked at her the same again.
When Margaret, her stepmother, came into their lives, the warmth in their home vanished. Margaret was elegant, refined — and cold. She came with her daughter, Lila, who always smiled too sweetly, too perfectly.
At first, Elara tried to love them. She wanted a family.
But soon, her mother's old room was emptied, her photos stored away, and everything that once belonged to Isabella was gone.
Except for one thing.
Her mother's inheritance — the massive shares of Moore Industries, the company Isabella's father, Henry Moore, had built from nothing.
Her grandfather. Her only real family left.
Henry loved Elara fiercely. He made sure his daughter's legacy would stay with her. Before he passed away, he transferred all his properties — the mansion, the shares, and the Moore name — directly into Elara's name.
She remembered him holding her hands, his wrinkled eyes full of sorrow and pride.
"They'll try to take everything from you, Elara. Promise me you'll be strong enough to fight for it."
But she wasn't strong.
She trusted them.
Her father had begged her to sign some papers, saying it was "for the family's convenience."
Margaret had hugged her, whispering that family shares everything.
And she believed them. She signed.
From that moment, everything started to crumble.
The company was no longer hers.
Her grandfather's mansion was "reallocated" under her father's name.
And when she married Damien Hale — a rising businessman backed by her stepmother's family — she unknowingly sealed her own fate.
She became nothing more than a bridge — a way to tie two wealthy families together.
Her breath grew weaker as the current dragged her deeper.
Every lie, every manipulation, every smile replayed in her mind like a cruel movie.
Her father's voice echoed faintly —
"You should be grateful, Elara. Damien married you because of us. Don't embarrass this family."
Margaret's laugh followed —
"Oh, darling, beauty fades, but wealth keeps people loyal. You should remember that."
And Lila's voice — soft, poisonous —
"You never deserved anything you had, sister. It was always supposed to be mine."
The water pressed harder against her chest. Her lungs screamed for air.
Tears mixed with the river as her last thought drifted to the man who'd loved her more than anyone — her grandfather.
"Grandpa… I'm sorry. I couldn't protect what you gave me."
Her eyes began to close.
The world blurred into darkness — silent, cold, endless.
And just before her consciousness slipped away, a single thought burned inside her:
If I could go back… I wouldn't forgive them. Not this time.
Then everything went still.