CHAPTER 1: THE BETRAYAL

ELENA'S POV

Twenty minutes. That was all the time I had left before the Vance family's convoy arrived to take me away, and Ken was still not here. Inside my head, his parting whisper played over and over on an agonizing loop.

“Wait for me inside your mother's old cupboard in the courtyard. I'll knock before the first cock crows in the morning, and we'll be gone before anyone notices.”

I trusted him. I had to.So, even though it was nearly six in the morning and the second cock had already crowed, I stayed put.

He will come. He has to.

I sat hunched on the damp, splintered floor of my late mother's old wardrobe, clutching the only things I owned in this world: three faded outfits, the glass necklace she had left me before she died, and every single coin I'd managed to save from working under the blistering sun on local farms. I had packed everything into a small canvas bag, tucking it tightly between my feet as my back pressed against the musty wood. The ivory dress I'd been forced to wear...the dress meant for my inspection...was already crumpled around my knees.

Still, I held on to hope.

Ken had done this before. When my father almost sold me off to a local gangster to settle a gambling debt, Ken came late, but still, he was the one who stood up for me. He had shown up when I needed him most. He wouldn't abandon me now.

Fifteen minutes passed. The courtyard outside remained deathly silent. A cold sweat gathered along my neck.

No. Something must have delayed him. Maybe he's careful. He's just being careful.

“Just five minutes more,” I whispered into the dark.

But those five minutes slipped away, too.

The hope I'd been clinging to finally shattered, giving way to a cold, sharp resolve. I couldn't wait any longer. If I stayed in this box, I was simply making it easy for them to find me.

I grabbed my bag, eased the creaking cupboard door open, and slipped into the chilly dawn mist. Keeping my footsteps completely weightless, I moved toward the back entrance of the mansion.

Slipping inside, I found the hallway dark and, thankfully, empty. My father, stepmother, and stepsister, Cleo, were likely gathered in the right wing, drinking champagne and celebrating the successful trade of my life.

I was three feet from the heavy exit door when a cold voice cut through the silence.

“Where do you think you're going?”

I froze.

Turning slowly, I found Cain, my father's most trusted enforcer, stepping out from the shadows. His face was a mask of cold indifference, his massive frame completely blocking my only exit.

“It's not what you think,” I started, my voice shaking. “I—”

“You're running away,” he sneered, reaching out with his heavy, calloused hand to grab my arm.

He underestimated me. Everyone in this house did.

They saw only the frail, broken girl they had spent years tormenting. They didn't know about the years I'd spent secretly training at the old martial arts dojo downtown, or how I'd hidden my strength behind loose, oversized dresses, hunched shoulders, and a soft, submissive voice.

Ken likes his women delicate. Although he was from a normal family beneath mine, I used to tell myself, I need to make him feel strong.

I had made myself smaller just to please him.

But as Cain's hand closed around my wrist, that carefully maintained weakness vanished. Before he could tighten his grip, I twisted my arm, breaking his hold. Moving with practiced, blinding speed, I stepped into his guard and drove my palm upward into his chin. He reeled back, disoriented, and before he could recover, I struck the side of his neck.

Cain's eyes rolled back. He collapsed to the floor like a felled tree before he could even cry out.

I released the breath I'd been holding. A bitter smile touched my lips as I stepped over Cain's motionless body. I turned down the corridor, heading for the side gate. I was halfway there when a low, rumbling laugh echoed from a nearby room.

I knew that laugh. It was unmistakable.

Ken?

My steps slowed as I found myself moving toward my stepsister Cleo's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, spilling a sliver of warm, golden light into the dark hallway.

I should have kept walking. My freedom was only seconds away. But a sickening, leaden knot in my stomach refused to let me leave without knowing the truth. I stopped and leaned toward the gap.

Ken was lying shirtless on Cleo's bed, his head resting lazily against the headboard. Cleo was curled against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles along his collarbone while his hand rested casually on her thigh. She wore a smug, victorious smile— like the look of someone who had just gotten exactly what she wanted.

For several seconds, I couldn't move. The world seemed to tilt. My fingers tightened around the wooden molding beside me as I fought to keep my balance.

No. Not Ken. Not the man I've loved for three years. Ken wouldn't hurt me this way... something must definitely be wrong!

Just before I could blink, the illusion shattered completely the moment they spoke.

“Elena is probably still rotting in that old cupboard right now,” Cleo giggled, her voice dripping with malice. “Waiting for her Prince Charming to rescue her.”

Ken chuckled. The casual, amused sound made everything inside me go painfully still.

“Who cares? Let her wait,” he said smoothly. “When the Vance convoy arrives, your father will know exactly where to pluck her from.”

“Do you know what the most ironic part is?” Cleo sneered, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “She probably thinks you're late because something bad happened to you. She's probably praying for you.”

“Yeah. She's incredibly dumb,” Ken mocked, running a hand through Cleo's hair. “And so submissive it's sickening. She has absolutely no idea that your father gave me a very generous cut of the trade money just so I handed her details over to the Vance recruiters.”

Their laughter continued, but it felt distant, like physical blows crashing directly into my chest, deafening me.

“You're so mean,” Cleo purred, though her eyes danced with delight.

“I fell out of love with her months ago,” he replied with a smug grin. “So what's so mean about disposing of something that's no longer beneficial to me?”

“Ken...” Cleo murmured. Her playful expression suddenly shifted, a serious frown crossing her face as if a troubling thought had just occurred to her. “But... what if she isn't chosen? What if she actually survives the trial and comes back here? What would become of us?”

Ken's expression darkened. He caught her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“The beast protecting the Vance billionaire has already driven away daughters of governors and mayors who failed the trial. They left in body bags, Cleo. What makes you think a nobody like Elena will survive?” He pulled her closer, his voice dropping lower. “Even if by some miracle she makes it through, she'll be completely broken. She's no longer useful to anyone. In the end, you'll always be my choice.”

I pressed a trembling hand against my mouth, forcing back the ragged, suffocating sob rising in my throat.

Tears blurred my vision, hot and furious. The man I had trusted with my life, the man I had changed myself for, had never intended to save me.

He wasn’t my savior. He was the monster who had led me straight to the slaughterhouse.