Chapter 3

I couldn’t make sense of anything. My hands trembled as I held the photos, my eyes wet and burning, the edges of the pictures shaking in my grasp.

My heart wasn’t just broken.

It was shattered.

The images blurred as tears clouded my sight, but I kept staring—one picture after another. My own face. Unmoving. Eyes closed. I was clearly not awake. And there, above me, was a man. His face was turned, shadowed, hidden. But there was no mistaking the position.

I was in a hotel bed.

With a stranger.

And he was on top of me.

I choked on my breath, pressing a hand to my mouth.

“No… this isn’t real,” I whispered, sinking slowly to the floor behind Elvis’s office door. “This can’t be real…”

My head spun. My heart pounded against my ribs like it wanted to escape.

Why would Fiona do this to me?

She was my sister. My only sister.

I loved her. I trusted her with my life. I had defended her when others doubted her. I had given her everything. And now… this?

The photos slipped from my fingers and scattered across the floor.

I leaned back against the wall, knees pulled to my chest, fighting the ache in my throat. My thoughts swirled in chaos.

Could Fiona have planned this?

Had she forced me to the bar that night with this in mind?

Did she slip something in my drink?

Was I drugged?

I had so many questions—and no answers. Just pain. Deep, twisting pain.

Then I heard something.

Laughter.

It came from inside the office. Light. Carefree. As though nothing had happened.

I held my breath, afraid to move, afraid to make a sound. Their voices followed.

“It worked,” Elvis said, his voice filled with cruel satisfaction.

My heart skipped.

“I told you it would,” Fiona replied, sounding gleeful, like a child who had just won a prize. “She’s my sister. I knew she wouldn’t say no. She never says no to me. That’s why I told you it would be easy.”

I clutched my chest.

“She has a poor brain,” she continued, her tone full of wicked delight. “She was never going to notice anything fishy. Everything went exactly how we planned it.”

They both laughed again.

I shut my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but they kept falling.

“She’s so dumb,” Elvis said, and I could hear the mockery in his voice.

“Of course she is. She’s always been stupid,” Fiona added. “Now we don’t have to waste time. We move to the next mission.”

My lips parted in silent shock. Next mission?

What else were they planning?

My breath caught in my throat. The air around me felt heavy, suffocating. It was like the office walls were pressing in on me, trapping me in this cruel nightmare.

I wanted to run.

I wanted to scream.

But something held me there. Some small voice inside told me not to go. Not yet.

You need to know the rest, the voice whispered.

I stayed still, my back pressed against the cold wall, my ears focused.

“What’s the plan for the next task?” Elvis asked, his tone serious now. “We have to be fast before something messes it up.”

Fiona responded with a smug laugh. “Relax. I’ve got it all under control.”

I leaned in just a little closer to the door, afraid to miss a single word.

“I’ve already hired the men,” she said proudly. “They’re ready. All I have to do is give the go-ahead.”

“What men?” Elvis asked, sounding curious but excited.

“Professionals,” she replied with confidence. “They’ve got the full details. Everything’s in place. You don’t have to worry.”

“Are you sure they’ll do a clean job?” he asked.

“Of course. These guys don’t leave traces. They’re the best at what they do.”

There was a pause. Then the sound of a bottle opening and laughter.

“After this, we celebrate with a bottle of champagne,” Elvis said.

They both laughed again. Loud. Carefree.

My heart dropped.

My chest rose and fell so fast I thought I might faint.

This wasn’t just betrayal.

This was a setup. A trap.

The pictures. The hotel. The man I didn’t recognize.

It had all been planned.

And now… now they were planning to get rid of me.

Like I was a problem.

Like I was trash.

Like I meant nothing.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

My breathing became erratic. My vision blurred again, not from tears this time, but from panic.

“Elvis…” I whispered. “Fiona… Why?”

The photos on the floor stared back at me, cruel reminders of the lies they’d wrapped me in.

I pushed myself to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me.

I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t listen anymore.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the door handle.

But then something inside me said—don’t leave yet. Not without knowing it all.

I stayed one more moment.

“I just hope she doesn’t suspect anything now,” Elvis said.

“She won’t,” Fiona replied confidently. “She’s too broken. That’s why it was easy. Her head isn’t working.”

They both laughed again.

“After this next task,” Fiona added, “everything will fall into place. She’ll be gone, and no one will even ask questions.”

“Perfect,” Elvis replied. “I can’t wait to be free.”

The door handle slipped from my grasp.

My soul shattered all over again.

Free?

He wanted to be free from me?

I stumbled away from the door, my hand over my mouth, my breath coming in short gasps.

I ran down the hallway, the pictures still clutched in my hand, some fluttering behind me like broken pieces of my heart.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as my heels clicked wildly on the floor.

I burst out of the building, gasping for air.

The sky was bright, but to me, everything felt dark.

I bent over, choking on my cries, my whole body trembling.

I had just overheard the two people I loved the most in this world plotting to destroy me.

My sister.

My husband.

They wanted me gone.

They had set me up, drugged me, taken photos, lied to my face—and now… now they were planning the final step.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, still unable to stop shaking.

“What did I ever do

to deserve this?” I sobbed.

But no one answered.

Only the wind did—soft, cold, and silent.