Chapter 2

Life in prison was anything but easy.

On my second day behind bars, a new inmate who ran the cell block showed up. He grabbed me by the head and pinned my face against the floor. The stench of urine burned my nose.

In a menacing tone, he said, "You're Matthew Jensen, aren't you?"

He planted his foot on the back of my hand and ground it into the floor. "Someone paid us to make sure those pretty eyes of yours never see daylight again."

I stared at him in terror. "Who? I'm taking the blame for Seth—"

"The precious little son of the Ingram family, of course."

The man held up a toothbrush handle he'd sharpened to a point with a vicious grin on his face. "He said if you're ruined in here, you'd never be able to compete with him again."

A searing pain exploded through my head. I screamed and curled up on the floor, writhing in agony. Blood poured from my left eye until it became nothing but a mangled mass of flesh.

The prison clinic gave me some rushed treatment afterward and removed the damaged eye. The wound became infected. I ran a dangerously high fever for three days and nearly died.

Those days were brutal, but there were still good people around me, like Gabriel Chapple.

When the men Seth had bribed were beating and kicking me, Gabriel had thrown himself over me without hesitation, shielding me with his frail body.

He pressed his lips tightly and said to me, "Stay alive, Matthew. As long as you live, there's hope."

Unfortunately, I was released early. I didn't have any way to contact him, and I had no idea how I would ever see him again.

The next morning, I woke up from hunger. My stomach felt like it was on fire. It was an old problem I'd brought home from prison. I had a severe stomach ulcer.

I walked into the dining room to find the table covered with an elaborate breakfast.

Sheryl casually filled a plate with shrimp cakes that had gone slightly cold and pushed it toward me without even looking at me.

She said, "Seth wanted these, so Isabella went all the way across town to buy them first thing this morning. He doesn't eat much and can't finish them. Don't waste food. You can have what's left."

Seth shot me a smug glance as he boasted, "You should try them. Isabella went all the way to Royal Delights downtown just to get these. She waited in line for three hours."

Steam rose from the cakes, making my left eye throb. The artificial eye seemed to rub dryly against the inside of my socket, bringing tears to my eyes.

After I was brought back to the Ingram family, I'd once had some genuinely happy days.

At first, when Sheryl saw my rough, calloused fingers, her eyes had reddened as she swore she would make up for everything I'd suffered.

She had said, "I'll always have your back, Matthew. Anyone who dares bully you has to answer to me."

When I mentioned I wondered what snow was like, she'd chartered a private jet to Hefrane that very night. When I casually complimented a designer's clothes, she'd bought every new piece from the latest collection and had them delivered to my room the next day.

Isabella had been just as gentle. She was born into privilege, but she'd bend down to tie my shoelaces and make me chowder clumsily whenever I was sick. If I'd told her I wanted the stars, she would've found a way to climb a ladder and pluck them from the sky for me.

Our engagement came naturally. She'd held my hand and promised, "Matthew, I'll always be by your side. I'll never betray you."

But everything changed because of Seth's repeated attempts to turn us against each other and frame me.

He smashed the emerald pendant our mother had left behind. Then, he cried and claimed I'd tried to steal it from him. Without bothering to find out the truth, Sheryl slapped me across the face and called me an ungrateful wretch who didn't know his place.

One night during a thunderstorm, Seth pretended to be sick. He tricked Isabella into going to him, claiming he was terrified of thunder.

It had been my birthday. Isabella had promised she'd stay and cut my birthday cake with me.

Instead, what I got was a photo she'd posted online. She was with Seth at an amusement park, and they were happily watching the fireworks.

The caption read, "As long as you're smiling, I'll brave any storm to be there."

Meanwhile, I sat beside my melting birthday cake in an empty mansion and waited through the entire night.

Perhaps genuine love was always fleeting. Or maybe what I thought was love had only ever existed through the filter I'd placed over it.

But back then, I didn't understand any of that. I was a teenager, and I'd valued my pride above everything else. I couldn't understand how the two people who had once loved me so earnestly could change overnight.

So, I threw a tantrum. I yelled hysterically as I smashed the cake onto the floor.

But all I got in return were their cold, disdainful looks.

That was when I finally understood something. When they loved me, they considered my prideful and outspoken side as me having a candid character. But once they stopped loving me, I became nothing more than an unreasonable troublemaker.