As time passed, Kayla endured brutal treatment within the billionaire's estate.
She didn't resist him—not yet.
If she ever hoped to escape, she needed the cure he promised.
It was her only chance at freedom… and survival.
No one in the estate knew who she truly was.
To the servants, she was just another strange addition to their master's life.
But the billionaire publicly introduced her as his adopted daughter—
a title that confused the staff and disgusted his real son.
The son despised Kayla from the moment he saw her.
Not because of anything she did—
but because of the way his father looked at her.
Possessive. Obsessed.
Like she was a masterpiece he created himself.
Still, the boy never dared show open hostility when his father was present.
He knew better.
The billionaire, paranoid about potential retaliation,
sent his son abroad to an elite boarding school—
a place designed to shape him into a weaponized successor.
His son was his only weakness,
and he wouldn't risk leaving him in Kayla's reach. His son was seven years older than her, he needed to pave way for his son and guarantee his safety.
The servants, however, had no such fear.
They maltreated Kayla from the shadows—
insults, withheld meals, bruises hidden under her sleeves—
and their master didn't care enough to intervene.
He ignored everything.
Their cruelty pushed the young girl deeper into despair.
And in that darkness, the voice inside her grew louder.
Stronger.
Hungrier.
One night, she snapped.
She killed the servants who tormented her.
Not with rage.
Not with panic.
But with the calm, cold efficiency of the monster they had forced her to become.
She dragged their bodies into her private bathroom.
and hid them behind the marble panel under the bathtub.
When the billionaire discovered the truth,
he reacted swiftly.
He tortured her for three days.
No water.
No rest.
Only raw meat thrown at her feet like she was an animal.
He knew he couldn't starve her—
because starving her led to something far worse.
A transformation he wasn't ready to face again.
When she could no longer stand,
he finally stopped.
Then he brought in two new servants:
An aunt—a quiet, disciplined woman who never asked questions.
And her niece, five years older than Kayla,
assigned as her caretaker, handler… and silent observer.
**
Kayla was relocated to a house in a quiet, safe neighborhood—
a luxury cage dressed as a home.
Every morning, the billionaire arrived for his "regular checkups,"
examining her blood, her healing rate,
her control.
He smiled when she obeyed.
He punished her when she didn't.
Her new home came with rules:
She could not leave the neighborhood.
She would be monitored at all times.
She would be surrounded by guards in plain clothes.
Her secret—her power—must never be discovered.
To the world, she appeared like a strange, pale teenager living under protective guardianship.
But in truth—
Kayla was still a prisoner.
A weapon-in-progress.
A creation the billionaire refused to let go.
The house the billionaire gave Kayla was beautiful on the outside—
white walls, trimmed garden, glowing lanterns along a stone path—
but inside, it felt colder than the estate.
Too clean.
Too empty.
Too silent.
Even the air seemed watched.
The old aunt, Madam Rina, moved like a ghost through the halls—
polite, expressionless, dutiful.
She cooked, cleaned, left water by Kayla's door,
and never stayed long enough to make eye contact.
Her grand niece, however…
was nothing like her.
Her Name Was Diana
Diana was fourteen—
five years older, sharper, and fearless in a way that confused Kayla.
She didn't glare.
She didn't flinch.
She didn't whisper cruel things under her breath.
In fact… she seemed curious.
The first week, she followed Kayla everywhere.
Quietly.
Patiently.
Whenever Kayla broke a glass by accident,
Diana cleaned it without scolding her.
Whenever Kayla woke up from nightmares screaming,
Diana didn't run—
she simply sat outside her door until the trembling stopped.
It annoyed Kayla.
Confused her.
Even scared her a little.
People didn't stay near her unless they wanted something.
So one evening, Kayla finally snapped.
"Why do you keep watching me?"
Her voice shook, tired and dangerous.
Aria leaned against the dining table, arms crossed.
"Because he told me to."
Kayla's jaw clenched.
Of course.
The billionaire..
But Aria continued before Kayla could react—
"And also," she said, tilting her head,
"I want to know who you really are."
Kayla froze.
People didn't say things like that.
Not without meaning harm.
Diana stepped closer, slowly, almost gently.
"You walk like someone expecting to be attacked."
She shrugged.
"You eat like someone who doesn't trust food."
Her eyes softened.
"And you cry like someone who never had the chance to be a kid."
Kayla looked away.
She hated that those words hurt more than the billionaire's punishments.
"But it's okay," Diana whispered.
"I'll stay. Even if you hate it."
Something twisted painfully in Kayla's chest.
Something she didn't understand.
She only whispered a single warning:
"Don't stay close to me."
Aria raised a brow. "Why?"
Kayla swallowed.
"Because people around me die."
Diana's smile vanished.
But she didn't step back.
"If something dangerous comes," she said quietly.
"then I'll deal with it."
Kayla shook her head violently.
"No. You don't understand. There is a voice—
it controls me—
it makes me kill—
I can't stop it—
you don't know—"
Diana placed a hand on her shoulder.
Warm.
Human.
Real.
And Kayla's body went rigid.
"Then we'll fight it together," Diana said calmly.
Kayla stared at her in shock.
No one had ever said we to her before.
But across the street… someone was watching.
A man in plain clothes, pretending to check his phone.
One of the billionaire's surveillance agents.
He spoke quietly into his earpiece:
"Boss… you said she'd remain isolated.
But the older girl… Diana… she's getting too close."
A pause.
Then the billionaire's voice, cold and sure:
"Let her.
Kayla needs attachment before she can be broken properly."
His breath exhaled through the receiver.
"And when the time comes…
Diana will be the perfect motivation to control her."
The agent shuddered.
He had seen what happened to people used as "motivation."
Usually, they didn't survive.
Inside the house
Kayla finally sat at the table, exhausted.
Diana placed a warm cup of tea in front of her.
No insults.
No threats.
No fear.
Kayla stared at it for a long moment.
Then, for the first time in years…
She took a sip.
For that brief moment,
she didn't feel like a weapon.
She felt like a girl.
A girl who might—
just might—
find something worth holding onto again.
But outside, hidden in the shadows,
danger moved closer.
And the voice inside Kayla whispered softly:
"She will die too."
***********
*******
*****
****
***
**
*
A seventeen-year-old girl sat in the living room, watching a horror movie in broad daylight.
Her expression was blank—emotionless—
not flinching even as characters on-screen were torn apart by a demon's claws.
The doorbell rang, snapping her back to reality.
Madam Rina hurried to answer it.
"Greetings, sir," the old woman bowed swiftly as the man entered without looking at her.
He walked in with a sly smile, his eyes fixed on Kayla.
She calmly turned off the TV before meeting his gaze.
"Greetings, Father. To what do I owe the honor of your presence today?"
This was the first time she had seen him since the day he threw her out of his estate.
Usually, Dr. Clark was the one assigned to handle her checkups—
without Mr. Wayne ever interfering.
"Kayla," he said softly, "you've grown into a fine young damsel.
Yet you still hide your beauty under those boyish outfits."
"What do you want, Father?
Flattering me won't get you anywhere."
He suppressed a smirk.
"Straight to business then."
Mr. Wayne pulled a file from his simple backpack.
His clothing was plain—ordinary enough to blend into a crowd.
But Kayla knew better:
his name alone bent people's wills.
He was far more cruel than the public kindness he pretended to show.
"I need you to read this carefully," he said.
"I'm making arrangements to enroll you in a new school—
for elites like yourself."
Kayla took the file and opened it.
Her eyes narrowed as she read the contract:
Target: Aidan Ryan
Age: 17
Status: Son of Commissioner Ryan & grandson of Mr. Sean Ryan.
Objective 1: Seduce him to gather information for Mr. Wayne.
Objective 2: Obtain a serum connected to the billionaire's project.
Rumor states Aidan already has a soon-to-be fiancée, Miss Stella Conner.
Kayla closed the file quietly.
He waited.
"Well, dear?" he asked.
"Can you handle this mission?"
She looked him dead in the eyes.
"I'll do it—under my terms."
His smile faded slightly.
"…Alright. Name them."
She lifted a finger.
"1. No security team following me everywhere."
A second.
"2. You are not allowed to interfere in this mission until it's over."
A third..
"3. If I cross boundaries, then—and only then—are you allowed to restrict me."
A fourth.
"4. I can move freely without your permission."
And finally—
"5. This is the first and last time you enter my house without your guard dogs."
For a moment, Mr. Wayne felt something he despised:
threatened.
He hid it behind a calm exhale.
He needed to put her under his control permanently—
before she grew too strong to handle.
"Madam Rina will give you your uniform," he said slowly.
"I've already informed the principal.
Meet her in her office tomorrow."
Kayla crossed her arms.
"And I need a ride.
I am not paying for taxis."
"The butler will send a ride in the morning," he replied.
"But don't think you're off the hook after threatening me…
or my son."
Kayla didn't look afraid.
She simply stared back at him—
silent, cold, unreadable.
And that silence told him everything:
She was no longer the girl he once controlled.
She was becoming something else.
Something harder to cage.
It had been eight long years since they last saw each other… eight years since they abandoned her in what felt like a prison yard disguised as a home. And now he wanted to make demands again — as long as they were "worth it." Finding a cure for her… and letting her see her so-called sister.
"Kay."
"Stop calling me that name," she warned Diana sharply, though she didn't even look at her when she returned home.
"Apologies, my lady, but lunch is served," Madam Rina said with a respectful bow.
"Hmm… do I look boyish to you, Diana?" Kayla asked shyly.
Diana froze for a moment, caught completely off guard by the question.
"Well… yes," she admitted, "except your hair is long enough now — down to your shoulders."
Kayla nodded slowly.
"Alright… let's play chess after we eat," she said.