Cassandra's POV
I know what betrayal sounds like.
It sounds like my fiancé's laugh—the same laugh that made me fall in love two years ago—coming from behind our bedroom door at three in the morning.
My hand freezes on the doorknob of the penthouse Marcus and I share. I just got back from the hospital lab where I've been working sixteen-hour days trying to finish my antibiotic research before the wedding. My wedding. In two weeks, I'm supposed to marry Marcus Chen, the man my father hand-picked for me before he died last year.
"God, she's so stupid," a female voice says between giggles.
That voice. I know that voice.
My stepsister, Vera.
"Does she really think you love her?" Vera continues. "Poor little Cassie, always so desperate to be loved."
I should walk away. I should leave right now. But my feet won't move.
Marcus's reply makes my blood turn to ice: "Love her? Babe, I can barely stand touching her. But her father's company stocks and those research patents she's developing? Worth every second of pretending."
My engagement ring—three carats, princess cut, picked out by Marcus's mother—suddenly feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
"What about after the wedding?" Vera asks. "You can't fake it forever."
"I won't have to. Once we're married, all her inheritance transfers to me as her husband. Her research becomes mine. Then we'll arrange a little accident—maybe a car crash, maybe she works herself to death in that lab. Either way, in a year you and I will be together with all her money."
They're planning to kill me.
My hands start shaking so badly I drop my keys. The metal clangs against the marble floor like a gunshot.
The bedroom door flies open.
Marcus stands there in his underwear, his perfect hair messy, his perfect smile vanishing when he sees my face. Behind him, Vera pulls the bedsheet around her naked body—my bedsheets, in my bed—and her eyes go wide.
"Cass," Marcus says, and he actually sounds concerned. "You're home early."
"You're going to kill me." My voice sounds strange, distant. "After the wedding. You're going to kill me and take everything."
For one second, I see something flicker across his face—fear, maybe guilt. Then it's gone, replaced by cold calculation.
"You weren't supposed to hear that," he says quietly.
"Obviously!" I'm screaming now, my professional composure shattering. "You weren't supposed to be sleeping with my sister! You weren't supposed to be planning my murder! Which part wasn't I supposed to find out about, Marcus?"
Vera climbs out of the bed, completely shameless. "Oh, Cassie. Did you really think someone like him could love someone like you?"
"Someone like me?" I back toward the door. "I'm a Harvard-educated medical researcher! I'm leading breakthrough antibiotic trials! What are you, Vera? A professional gold-digger who flunked out of community college?"
Her face twists with rage. "You've always thought you were better than me! Perfect Cassandra with her perfect grades and her perfect career! Well, guess what? I'm the one sleeping with your fiancé. I'm the one he actually wants!"
"Then you can have him!" I rip the engagement ring off my finger and throw it at Marcus's feet. "I'm leaving. I'm calling off the wedding. And I'm telling everyone exactly what you both are!"
I turn to run, but Marcus moves faster than I expect. His hand clamps around my wrist like a vice.
"I can't let you do that, Cass." His voice is so calm it's terrifying. "There's too much money at stake. Your father's company, your research patents, your trust fund—we've already spent a fortune planning this. You're getting married in two weeks whether you like it or not."
"Let go of me!" I try to pull away, but he's so much stronger.
"Vera, get her phone," Marcus orders.
My stepsister moves quickly, grabbing my purse and pulling out my cell phone. She throws it against the wall where it shatters into pieces.
"You can't keep me here!" I'm struggling now, really fighting. "People know I'm alive! My colleagues, my friends—"
"Your colleagues think you're working yourself to death. You barely see anyone anymore. And your friends?" Marcus pulls me closer, his breath hot on my face. "Sweetie, I've been isolating you for months. Who's going to notice if you disappear for a few days while you 'calm down' from wedding stress?"
Terror claws up my throat. He's right. I've been so focused on my research, so busy preparing for the wedding, I haven't seen anyone outside of work in months.
"The engagement party is tomorrow night," Vera says, examining her nails like we're discussing the weather. "Everyone's expecting us. Marcus's investors, your board members, everyone important."
"You're going to smile, play the happy bride, and act like nothing happened," Marcus says. "Then in two weeks, you'll marry me. After that... well, we'll see how cooperative you are."
"I'll scream," I warn him. "I'll tell everyone—"
"And sound crazy? Ruin your own reputation?" He actually laughs. "Who's going to believe the stressed-out researcher having a breakdown over the devoted fiancé everyone loves? Plus, we have the recording."
My stomach drops. "What recording?"
Vera holds up her phone, smirking. "From last month. When you were complaining about your lab supervisor, maybe said some things that could be considered threats? If edited correctly, it could sound like you're dangerously unstable. Might even cost you your medical license."
They've been planning this. Every detail, every angle.
"Now," Marcus says, guiding me toward the couch with hands that look gentle but grip like steel. "You're going to sit here while Vera and I get dressed. Tomorrow night, you're going to the engagement party with a smile on your face. And you're not going to cause any problems. Understand?"
I nod slowly, my mind racing. I need to escape. I need help.
"Good girl," he says, patting my head like I'm a dog.
They disappear into the bedroom to change. The moment they're gone, I bolt for the front door.
It's locked. Deadbolted from the inside with a key I don't have.
The windows are forty stories up.
I'm trapped.
The Next Night - Engagement Party
The ballroom sparkles with a thousand lights and fake smiles. Everyone's here—Marcus's business partners, my research colleagues, society people who pretend to care. I'm wearing the designer dress Vera picked out, smiling until my face hurts, playing the role of the happy bride-to-be.
My phone is gone. My laptop is locked in Marcus's safe. He hasn't let me out of his sight for twenty-four hours.
"You're doing great," he whispers in my ear, his arm around my waist looking loving to everyone watching. "Just a few more hours."
I've been looking for chances to escape all night. But Marcus's security team is everywhere. His driver, his bodyguards, even the event staff—they're all his people.
Vera appears with two glasses of champagne, playing the supportive sister perfectly. "A toast! To my wonderful sister and her amazing fiancé!"
She hands me a glass. The champagne fizzes innocently.
But I see it—just for a second—the knowing look between her and Marcus. The tiny nod she gives him.
"Drink up, Cassie," Vera urges, her smile sharp as glass. "It's your special night."
Everyone's watching. Cameras are flashing. If I refuse, I'll cause a scene. If I drink...
My hand trembles as I raise the glass.
"To true love," Marcus says, his eyes promising consequences if I don't obey.
I have no choice. I drink.
The champagne tastes wrong. Bitter under the sweetness.
"There's my good girl," Vera whispers as she walks past.
The room starts spinning. People's faces blur together. I try to speak but my tongue feels thick and heavy.
"She's had too much to drink," I hear Marcus announcing, his voice sounding far away. "Poor thing's been so stressed about the wedding. I should get her home."
His arms wrap around me as my legs give out. I try to fight, try to scream, but nothing works. My body won't obey.
"Don't worry, darling," Marcus murmurs in my ear, so quiet only I can hear. "When you wake up, this will all be over. One way or another."
The last thing I see before everything goes black is Vera's triumphant smile.
And the last thing I feel is the cold certainty that I'm never waking up again.
Somewhere between consciousness and darkness, a voice echoes:
[EMERGENCY TRANSPORT INITIATED]
[TRANSPORTING HOST TO DESIGNATED SURVIVAL REALM]
[WELCOME TO BEASTWORLD]