Chapter 3

The next moment, my door swung open.

Trailing behind Joshua and Daxon, Ciara entered and headed straight for the music box—the only keepsake Mom had left me before she died early.

"Madie, let's give the music box to Ciara so she can play with it."

That wasn't a request seeking my approval. It was a command.

I wanted to open my mouth and refuse. But my throat felt clogged, and I was so weak that I could barely say a word.

As Ciara cradled the music box in her arms, a flicker of malice flashed in her eyes.

Instinctively, I gripped Daxon's arms and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "No, that was Mom's…"

Before I could finish, she "accidentally" let it slip under my horrified gaze.

The music box plummeted toward the floor, and inside was the last photograph I had with Mom—the last item that reminded me of her gentleness in this world.

"Mom!" I threw myself off the bed, desperate to catch the music box. At that moment, nothing else mattered.

With a crack, the music box shattered into pieces, just as the wound on my back split open. Amongst the glittering fragments of the music box lying on the floor, Mom's smile splintered.

I hit the ground hard as warm blood gushed from my wound and dyed my white nightgown red. Joshua and Daxon rushed toward me with panic written all over their faces.

The malice on Ciara's face slipped away and was replaced by a pair of eyes brimming with tears. "I didn't mean to, Daxon… I swear! Why would she do this just for a music box? Did she just try to hurt herself just to frame me? I'm so scared…"

Just like that, the men's expressions shifted. Gone was their panic and concern, and in its place was cold disgust like they'd been deceived.

"Madie, you didn't waste your time in the black market and learned every dirty trick there, huh? Ciara just dropped it by accident, so how could you have gone so far to hurt yourself and smear her name just to gain sympathy?"

I was so overwhelmed with pain that I could barely speak. All I could do was watch as they gathered around the "shocked" Ciara, soothing her. Then, they led her away without sparing me a single glance.

Just before the door shut, I heard Daxon's hesitant voice. "Is it too cruel to lock Madie alone in her room?"

Joshua answered in a calm, detached voice, "They're both at fault, and it's only fair that they're both punished.

"Since she hurt herself, she should lie in the basement and stew in that nasty temper. That's going to be her punishment.

"As for Ciara…"

Both men's voices rang out with playful mockery. "She deserves strict punishment, too. She'll have to come shopping with us and plan her birthday party."

"Since she's weak, shopping will tire her out, and that'll be the best punishment."

Their laughter and footsteps faded down the hall.

Lying in my warm pool of blood, I could feel my body cool as my consciousness frayed. Just when I thought I'd die just like that, my phone screen glowed to life.

A scenic photograph of a Navaronese fjord lit up the screen, showing the still blue waters and snow-capped peaks. Below it was a single line that read, "It's a quiet world out here. Do you want me to come for you?"

It was him. He knew I'd made it out of there.

…

In the middle of the night, the door creaked open again. I thought it was a maid, only to find that it was Ciara. Fear and innocence had vanished from her face, replaced by feverish delight.

She crouched beside me and softly whispered in my ear, "Madie, does having your spine shattered hurt more than all the humiliation you've had to bear?

"I picked the spot for the nail myself. Daxon said I should choose a spot that could hurt the most but not kill you, so you'd never forget the fear. Oh, and have you heard?"

She pulled out her phone to show an affectionate photograph of her, Daxon, and Joshua dining in some glittering restaurant.

"Look. The night you were dragged into the black market, they were hosting a grand welcome-back party for me."

Her hand slowly slid down my spine and paused over the mark of humiliation etched into my skin.

"Do you remember the night at the black market, where you were blindfolded and crawling on the floor like an animal? Didn't you find the hostess' voice… a little familiar?"

My body stiffened instantly as my eyes widened sharply in shock.

When she saw my reaction, a satisfied grin spread across her face. And when she spoke, her honeyed voice was sharp like glass shards. "That's right. That hostess was me, and the host who made you drink from his hand was your fiance, Josh.

"You heard us that night, didn't you? He's incredible, but he'll never touch filth like you. You disgust him."

The truth struck me—Joshua had known all along, and he'd been part of my humiliation.

Ciara seemed to enjoy witnessing my despair as she continued, "Oh, and there's more. Daxon wants you to remember who rules this house, so we branded you with my name.

"Josh held my hand and guided me as we wrote that word, a mark of humiliation you despise to the core.

"Just accept your fate, Madie. You'll never win against me."

She patted my face before getting up and kicking my back. A wave of pain crashed over me and left me voiceless.

"Useless cripple," she spat before walking out in satisfaction, while the wreckage of my body and soul seemed to pull me deeper into a second hell.

With trembling fingers, I mustered all my strength to tap on the photograph showing the landscapes of freedom.

"You said if I wanted to leave, you'd come for me anytime. Does that promise still stand?"