Chapter 2

Rosalie's patience was running thin.

She made a quick call, and in less than ten minutes, two men carrying black suitcases walked in. It was a professional hacking team.

"Crack this account for me," Rosalie ordered.

She sat down on the only chair that was somewhat clean and lit a cigarette.

I watched as they connected data cables to my phone.

As rows of incomprehensible code began flashing across the screen, panic washed over me. That phone was my life. Those were my memories.

I lunged forward to grab the phone, but one of Sebastian's bodyguards kicked me square in the stomach.

"Ugh…"

I curled into a ball on the floor, breaking out into a cold sweat from the pain as the bits of filth I'd just swallowed threatened to come back up.

Yet, I kept muttering, "Don't touch my journal… Don't touch it…"

The hacker worked for a moment, then frowned.

"Ms. Vaughn, the phone's operating system is ancient. Plus, it has multiple layers of encryption. If we try to brute-force it, we'll have to wipe the local storage to bypass the security restrictions."

Rosalie blew out a ring of smoke, her eyes as cold and emotionless.

"Wipe it," she ordered.

Those words struck me like a bolt of lightning. I threw myself forward like a feral animal and bit down hard on her shin.

"No! You can't wipe it! Please, I'm begging you! There are pictures in there! You can't delete them!" I screamed through clenched teeth, sinking them deep into her skin.

Rosalie winced in pain and kicked me away.

My back slammed hard against the corner of the wall, and the metallic taste of blood rushed into my throat.

The screen flickered as a progress bar started moving at lightning speed.

"Formatting local data…"

Watching that progress bar was like watching a countdown to my own execution.

"Don't… Please don't…"

A raspy, broken wheeze came out of my throat as I clawed my way across the floor toward the phone.

Sebastian stood to the side, stoking the flames. "Rosie, look at how anxious he is. There's definitely proof in there of him running off with the money back then, or maybe some love letters from his sugar mommy. You have to wipe it and get to the bottom of this."

"Formatting complete."

The screen went black for a split second, then lit up again.

I stared at the empty photo album, feeling as though my chest had been hollowed out.

Everything was gone now.

My lips parted, but no sound came out. It felt as though a massive chunk of my soul had been ripped away in that instant.

After that, they forcibly logged into my Facebook account.

The hacker handed the phone over to Rosalie, and the very first status update popped up on the screen.

It was an entry from seven years ago, which I had set to private so only I could see it.

"Today, I went to the black market to sell my blood, hoping to scrape together enough cash for Rosalie's surgery. It hurt, but when I think about her surviving, the pain just disappears."

Standing right behind Rosalie, Sebastian was quick on his feet. He snatched the phone right out of her hand.

"Ugh, it's just spam advertisement." He tapped the screen in rapid succession, and several prompts popped up.

"Confirm delete?"

"Yes."

Rosalie was looking down, inspecting the wound on her leg, and missed the text on the screen entirely.

"What did you delete?" she asked.

Sebastian handed the phone back to her with a perfectly natural smile. "Nothing. Just some junk ad and corrupted text. This phone is such a piece of crap. It must be riddled with viruses."

I looked at the deletion prompt, and the final glint of light in my eyes vanished.

That was my proof that I had loved her. It was the final shred of dignity I desperately wanted to protect, even after losing my mind.

Now, that was gone, too.

I slumped onto the floor, staring blankly at the dark patches of mold on the ceiling. I had absolutely nothing left in this world.

Rosalie scrolled through the phone for a while, her brow furrowing tighter and tighter.

Aside from a blank slate, there was absolutely nothing in there.

"Theodore, where did you hide everything?"

She walked over, standing over me to demand answers.

I didn't react. I lay there motionlessly, yet my indifference enraged her.

"Fine. You want to play dumb? Let's see how long you can keep up the act."

She turned around and barked at her assistant outside, "Bring in the livestreaming equipment."