Chapter 4

Rosalie wasn't done venting her rage.

She picked up the cracked phone again, the screen still illuminated with that same security question, "Who is my one true love?"

She shoved the device right in front of my soaking wet face, her eyes dark and menacing. "Spill it! What is the answer?"

As I looked at her contorted expression, my body shook violently with fear.

All of a sudden, I remembered a girl. She was wearing a faded school uniform, carrying me on her back through three grueling miles of hilly paths while I was burning up with a high fever.

She had said, "Theodore, from now on, my life belongs to you."

That was Rosalie before she changed—my Rosie.

My clouded, unfocused eyes suddenly sharpened for a split second.

"Not a sugar mommy… It's Rosie… I didn't run. I didn't leave with anyone else. I was a good boy… Please don't lock me back up in the psychiatric hospital."

Rosalie froze.

Even the chat fell quiet for a brief moment.

Sebastian's face instantly drained of color, and he immediately started shrieking, "He's lying! The psycho is just putting on an act to score some sympathy points!

"Rosie, don't believe a word he says. He probably scripted this whole performance ages ago. I'm a firsthand witness. I saw him run off with his sugar mommy with my own two eyes.

"He's the reason the Langleys lost everything, and he's the reason you suffered so much. Have you forgotten?"

Rosalie snapped back to herself. The tiny flicker of emotion that had just sparked in her eyes instantly hardened into burning hatred.

"You're right. I believe Sebastian. A man who spills nothing but lies could never actually love me. Even your own sister abandoned you, so who are you trying to play victim for? In fact, I'll type it in right now and prove it to you!"

She jabbed her finger aggressively against the screen, typing out her name, then tapped "Enter".

The loading icon spun in a circle. Then, a prompt popped up on the screen.

"Incorrect answer."

Rosalie let out a cruel and mocking laugh.

"See that, Theodore? So much for your Rosie. You claim you love me, but your password security isn't even my name. Even now, you're still protecting that bitch!"

She raised her hand high and smashed the phone onto the floor with everything she had.

The phone shattered, the chassis splitting apart as the battery popped right out.

"Ah!"

A blood-curdling shriek ripped from my throat.

Throwing all caution to the wind, I lunged forward and dropped onto my knees, right into the sea of shattered glass.

I scrambled wildly, trying to gather the pieces. The razor-sharp glass instantly sliced into my palms, leaving them dripping with bright red blood.

"My phone! Don't break… Please don't break. Rosie is in there…"

My mangled, bloody fingers trembled as I tried to force the broken shards back together, staining the floor crimson.

Sebastian took a step back in disgust, covering his mouth as he smirked at the camera.

"See that, guys? What goes around comes around. His phone is toast. Talk about payback."

The chat erupted into cheers.

"Serves him right! Trash like him should just be incinerated!"

"Look at him acting like a total lunatic. He's bleeding all over and doesn't even feel it. So gross."

"Ms. Vaughn is a queen! Don't let him off easy!"

Rosalie looked down at the miserable state of my bloodied hands without a trace of pity in her eyes. She stepped on the back of the hand I was using to piece the phone together.

"Does it hurt, Theodore? When I was lying on the hospital bed and dying, it hurt a lot worse than this."

"Take him away."

She turned her back to me with indifference. "Send him to that psychiatric hospital on the west side of town. Tell the director to give him the finest 'treatment' they've got. Just like five years ago.

"Shock therapy, solitary confinement—use whatever works. I want that whore completely wiped from his brain. Even if it turns him into a vegetable, I don't care."

Two burly men immediately stepped forward, grabbing me by the arms and dragging me toward the exit.

My bare feet scraped across the rough concrete. My shoes had fallen off, and my soles were scraped raw and bleeding.

The hallway was lined with nosy neighbors, but not a single soul moved to help me.

Dozens of smartphone cameras were shoved into my face, recording every single moment of my humiliation.

"Help… I don't want to go… I don't want to go back to the psychiatric hospital…" I wailed and screamed, my voice completely shot.

If I went back inside, I would never make it out alive again.

I looked back in despair, staring at the shattered phone on the floor, and at the woman who had her back turned to me, casually lighting another cigarette.

The world felt so bleak.

Wasn't anyone going to save me? Where was my sister? Had she abandoned me, too?

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the worst.

But just as I was about to be dragged through those battered iron doors, a sleek, gleaming Maybach screeched to a halt right at the entrance.

In the next instant, a tall figure stepped out of the car. Her gaze was sharp and ice-cold.

"Who dares lay a finger on the heir of the Langley family?"