The day my adoptive brother's lover falsely accused me of pushing her into the lake, I was kidnapped. It wasn't until the third day that I was finally rescued. Limping barefoot to the car, I saw Maxwell, the brother I had loved for eight years, roll down the window. He looked at me with a furrowed brow.

"Esperanza, you're too disheveled. Sit in the car behind us."

I caught a glimpse of his lover sitting beside him, and with a pale face, I got into the other car and was driven to the hospital for treatment.

During my stay, I received a recording. Amidst the noisy background, someone asked Maxwell, "Maxwell, Esperanza is so fragile, aren't you worried she'll turn against you when she finds out you took so long to rescue her?"

Maxwell laughed softly, his voice smooth and detached. "Those kidnappers were hired by me. They know their boundaries and won't harm her too much. Esperanza targeted Sariah last time, so this was just a little lesson for her."

Yet, brother, in those three days and nights of nightmares, the kidnappers didn't just break my leg; they left me covered in bruises and scars.

---

"Mr. Morales sure spoils Miss Schmidt, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, I heard he recently gave her a vineyard and set off fireworks all over the city for her birthday."

"They say that's why he delayed rescuing Miss Arnold—to celebrate Sariah's birthday..."

While I was leaving the hospital, passing by the nurses' station, their envious whispers reached my ears despite my effort to ignore them. I gripped the wheelchair handles tightly.

Camden, Maxwell's assistant, overheard their conversation and rushed to console me. "Miss Esperanza, don't pay attention to their gossip. Mr. Morales delayed only because he was coordinating with the authorities to ensure your safety from the kidnappers."

I forced a smile and replied, "Okay." Had I not heard the recording, I might have believed him. When I was eight, after my parents died in a plane crash, the Morales family took me in. Maxwell, five years my senior, held my hand, walked with me through the Morales estate, and gently said, "Esperanza, I'll be your brother from now on. I'll protect you."

He treated me well, like a prince in a fairy tale treats his princess. I loved stargazing, so he bought a star and named it after me. If I craved a midnight snack, he would personally make something, despite never cooking before. If someone bullied me, the usually composed Maxwell would retaliate without hesitation.

But by the time I turned eighteen, my feelings for him had changed. After boldly confessing my love for him, his typically gentle gaze turned sharp and disdainful. "Esperanza, that's inappropriate."

Even though, at the insistence of Uncle Teo and Aunt Miranda, we got engaged, he was never affectionate with me again. It wasn't until I heard the recording that I realized how much he despised me. It's just as well.

"Camden, I can get back by myself. You don't need to come with me anymore," I said to Maxwell's assistant, dismissing him before hailing a cab to the Morales home.

In the car, I made an international call. "Uncle Sylas, it's Esperanza. I've decided to come stay with you. Could you do me a favor?"

I hobbled through the front door, only to be greeted by an agonizing yowl from a cat. My heart skipped a beat, and I stumbled into the living room. There, I saw Whiskers trapped in the jaws of a small dog. His tiny body convulsed violently.

"Get away!" I shouted, my eyes wide with horror.

I lunged forward, trying to rescue Whiskers, but ended up with several bites instead. In desperation, I grabbed a glass and hurled it at the dog's head. Startled, it dropped Whiskers and scampered away.

Quickly, I cradled Whiskers' limp body in my arms. His fur was soaked in bright red blood. He had stopped breathing, his eyes frozen in terror.

"Who let a dog in here?" I demanded, staring numbly at Whiskers' lifeless form. My right hand bore several deep punctures, yet I didn't feel the pain. Whiskers had been with us for ten years. Maxwell and I had found him one day while walking in the park. It was Maxwell who named him "Whiskers," saying he'd be part of the family. That if he ever wasn't around, Whiskers would keep me company. But now, Whiskers was gone.

“Hey! Lucky!” A panicked female voice echoed.

I looked up as Sariah hurriedly came down the stairs. The dog whined pitifully at her feet. She was in cozy slippers, her satin pajamas barely concealing the marks of affection.

"Is that your dog? Who allowed you to bring it in here? Don't you know Whiskers is terrified of dogs?" I raised my voice, my eyes fixed on Sariah as I demanded answers. Her eyes filled with tears.

And then Maxwell appeared, descending slowly from upstairs. "I told Sariah to bring Lucky," he said. His gaze fell upon Whiskers’ unblinking eyes and my bleeding wounds. Maxwell's brows knitted slightly. "I told them to lock Whiskers in a room."

My face went pale. Did he not know that Whiskers could open doors?

“I'm so sorry, Esperanza...” Sariah's voice made my head throb, and I couldn't help but shout.

"Sorry doesn't cut it! Can you bring Whiskers back to life?"

Sariah started to sob, tears pouring down her face as she clutched Maxwell's sleeve. "Maxwell, I never thought Lucky would... Esperanza, please don't be angry..."

Her pitiful face seemed to soften Maxwell. With a sigh, he wiped her tears away. "It's just a cat," he said. "Sariah didn't do it on purpose, and Lucky is just a dog. Don't blow this out of proportion."

The words caught in my throat. Just a cat. To Maxwell, I wasn’t as important as Sariah. And so, Whiskers' life was worth less than her dog's.

After leaving Whiskers in the care of Aiden Cook at the pet memorial service, I went to get my wounds treated. As the needle for the tetanus shot broke my skin, tears fell uncontrollably. I had always been terrified of needles, and it reminded me of how Maxwell would cover my eyes to distract me during those moments.

"Esperanza, are you okay?" The elevator was packed, so I took the quieter stairwell, only to be confronted by Sariah. She had changed clothes and was now smirking at my injury, as if savoring the drama. "Lucky's teeth are sharp. Bet that hurts, huh?"

I pressed my lips together, holding back the anger boiling inside. "What are you doing here?"

Sariah stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with a smug grin. "I said I had a headache, so Maxwell brought me to the hospital." She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "It's a shame you lost so much blood, and Maxwell didn't even notice. But no surprise there. With all the guys you've been with, it's no wonder he finds you repulsive."

I stared at Sariah in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

Her lips curled into a smirk as she lightly tapped my cheek and whispered, "The men who kidnapped you." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I have videos, you know. Think Maxwell has seen them?"

A buzzing noise filled my head as I opened my eyes wide, biting my lip until it bled. As I reached to grab her collar, Sariah's foot slipped, and she tumbled down several steps.

"Esperanza!" Maxwell's voice echoed with cold fury. He rushed past me to help Sariah, who clung to him, tears in her eyes. "Esperanza, I'll get you another kitten, okay? Please, don't be angry..."

Sariah apologized through her sobs, hiding behind Maxwell. His expression turned harsh as he slapped me across the face. "Esperanza, you've already caused Heidi's death, and now you want to hurt Sariah too? It's just a cat. How could you be so heartless?"

The slap left me stunned, unable to move. Maxwell had struck me three times in my life. The first was when I confessed my feelings for him. The second was after I took care of him while he was drunk, inadvertently leading to a tragedy with his then-girlfriend, Heidi. And now, this was the third.

"Maxwell, don’t hit Esperanza!" Sariah played the savior, quickly grabbing Maxwell's hand, tears streaming down her face. "It's my fault Whiskers died. She has every right to be upset."

I fought back the urge to cry, trying to explain myself. But then I noticed the silver locket hanging around Sariah's neck—the very piece Maxwell had sworn he'd always wear for luck after surviving an accident at twenty, an amulet I had painstakingly acquired through prayer and reflection.

"Maxwell..." I began, but he cut me off, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Apologize to Sariah if you want the wedding to go smoothly."

In seven days, we were supposed to marry—a day I had long dreamed of. I looked at Maxwell's stern face, and under Sariah's triumphant gaze, I bowed my head and apologized. "I'm sorry."