The winding mountain road stretched before us, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through the dense forests of the Cascade Mountains. I gripped the door handle as Tommy navigated another sharp curve, my prosthetic leg shifting uncomfortably against the car's floorboard.
"You're being awfully quiet," Tommy said, glancing at me with those perfect blue eyes that once made my heart skip. Now they barely registered any emotion when they looked at me.
"Just taking in the view," I replied softly, touching the scar that ran from my temple to my jawline—a nervous habit I'd developed over the years.
The luxury cabin came into view, all glass and timber nestled among towering pines. It looked like something from a magazine—the kind of place people with two working legs and unmarked faces belonged.
"We're here!" Tommy announced, pulling into the circular driveway. He was out of the car before I'd even unbuckled my seatbelt.
I took my time, carefully positioning my prosthetic before attempting to stand. The mountain terrain was uneven, with loose gravel that made each step a potential stumble. I'd learned to navigate most surfaces with grace, but this would be a challenge.
"Need help?" Juliana appeared beside me, her athletic body moving with effortless grace. She wore hiking boots, cargo shorts, and a flannel shirt—the quintessential tomboy look that somehow made her more attractive to Tommy than my careful attempts at femininity.
"I've got it," I said, forcing a smile.
"Tommy's already heading inside," she said, linking arms with him as he walked ahead. "We should catch up."
I watched as she effortlessly matched Tommy's stride, her hand casually resting on his arm. They looked like they belonged together—two able-bodied, beautiful people moving in perfect synchronicity.
"Sienna's still adjusting," Juliana called back to me, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe we should have picked somewhere more... accessible?"
Tommy didn't even look back. "She'll manage. She always does."
The words stung more than they should have. Ten years ago, I'd thrown myself between him and our kidnappers, taking the beating that should have been his. The scars I carried—both visible and invisible—were supposed to be badges of honor, not burdens to be tolerated.
---
Inside the cabin, I found a moment of peace by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the mountains. My phone vibrated in my pocket—my father.
"Sienna," his voice sounded strained. "I'm glad I caught you."
"Dad? Is everything okay?" My stomach tightened. Calls from my father usually meant one thing: money troubles.
"The Greene Corporation..." He paused, and I could hear him taking a deep breath. "We're on the verge of bankruptcy, sweetheart."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "What happened?"
"It's complicated. But there's hope." His voice brightened artificially. "The Wagners have agreed to sign the bailout documents next week. This will save everything—our employees, our family's legacy."
I closed my eyes, understanding immediately what he was asking. "And Tommy?"
"He's the key, Sienna. His parents listen to him. Just... make sure he's on board with this."
The weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders like a lead blanket. My engagement to Tommy wasn't just about love—it was about survival.
"I understand," I whispered.
---
Sleep eluded me that night. Around two a.m., I gave up and limped to the kitchen for water. The cabin was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the windows.
As I reached for a glass, I heard voices from the adjacent room—Tommy's voice, low and intimate.
"I can't do this anymore," he was saying.
My hand froze mid-air.
"What's wrong?" Juliana's voice replied.
"It's Sienna." Tommy's voice dropped even lower. "The way she looks... those scars. They're repulsive."
The glass slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the counter. I caught it before it could fall completely, my heart hammering in my chest.
"You're too good for her," Juliana murmured. "You always have been."
"I know," Tommy agreed. "But my parents insist on this engagement. They say it's the right thing to do after what happened when we were kids."
"So you're just going through with it out of obligation?" Juliana's voice was soft, probing.
"What else can I do?" Tommy sighed heavily.
I pressed myself against the wall, my body trembling. Then I saw them—Tommy and Juliana standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Moonlight illuminated their silhouettes as Juliana reached up and stroked Tommy's face.
"You deserve better," she whispered, standing on tiptoe.
Tommy didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned down as Juliana pressed herself against him. Their lips met in a kiss that was anything but platonic.
"I know," he murmured against her mouth. "But Sienna... she saved me. I owe her."
"You don't owe her your life," Juliana said fiercely, her hands sliding up his chest to frame his face. "And you certainly don't owe her your happiness."
I stood frozen in the shadows, watching as Tommy—my Tommy—nodded slowly. His hands slid around Juliana's waist, pulling her closer as they kissed again.
"I'll figure something out," he promised her. "I can't keep pretending forever."
I barely slept that night, Tommy's words echoing in my mind like a cruel mantra. *Repulsive. They're repulsive.* By morning, my shock had hardened into something sharper—a jagged edge of fury that cut through my usual carefully maintained composure.
I found him in our bedroom, lazily stretching as sunlight streamed through the windows. He looked so normal, so unaffected, as if he hadn't shattered my world just hours before.
"I heard you last night," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "With Juliana."
Tommy's expression flickered—surprise, then wariness, then something harder. "You were eavesdropping?"
"Eavesdropping?" The word hit me like a slap. "I'm your fiancée, Tommy. I wasn't hiding in the shadows hoping to catch you."
He sat up, running a hand through his perfect hair. "Sienna, don't make a scene."
"I heard what you said about my scars." My fingers unconsciously traced the ridged tissue along my jawline. "About how repulsive you find them."
Something shifted in his eyes—not remorse, but annoyance. He stood up, towering over me as I leaned against the dresser for support.
"Fine," he snapped. "You want honesty? Yes, Sienna, I find your scars repulsive. And that limp—" he gestured dismissively at my prosthetic leg, "—watching you struggle up a simple staircase makes me feel sick with pity."
The words struck like physical blows. I flinched backward, my hand flying to my mouth.
"And those," he continued, pointing at the network of scars visible at the neckline of my shirt, "they're a constant reminder of what you did. What you made me owe you."
"I didn't make you owe me anything," I whispered, tears burning behind my eyes. "I saved you."
"You trapped me!" Tommy's voice rose sharply. "Do you think I wanted this? Do you think any man would choose a woman who looks like—" He gestured at me with disgust. "Be grateful I'm even here, Sienna. Be grateful I put up with this."
A movement at the doorway caught my eye. Juliana leaned against the frame, her usual tomboy persona gone. She wore a tight tank top that accentuated her athletic build, her lips curved in a smirk that held no trace of sympathy.
"Morning, lovers," she drawled, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she took in my devastation.
---
"I'm done," I announced, pulling my suitcase from the closet. "We're finished, Tommy."
Panic flashed across his face—not heartbreak, but fear. "Sienna, don't be dramatic."
I yanked open drawers, grabbing clothes and stuffing them haphazardly into my bag. "I'm not being dramatic. I'm leaving."
"You can't leave." Tommy blocked the doorway, his expression hardening into something cold and calculating. "At least, not if you want your family to survive the week."
I froze, my hands still clutching a sweater. "What?"
"My parents," he said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "They've been supporting your father's failing business for years. One call from me, and all those loans get called in by Monday."
The blood drained from my face. "You wouldn't."
"Try me." His voice was ice. "Walk out that door, and your family will be on the streets by the end of the week."
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly unable to support me. The weight of my father's desperate voice from last night's call echoed in my memory.
"Tommy, please," I whispered.
"Please what?" He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Please don't make you choose between your pride and your family's survival?"
---
The campfire crackled in the gathering dusk, casting long shadows through the forest clearing. I sat apart from the others, my arms wrapped around my knees as Juliana passed around a bottle of whiskey.
"Time for games!" she announced, her eyes finding mine across the fire. "Truth or Dare?"
The group—mostly Tommy's friends from college—cheered enthusiastically. I started to excuse myself, but Tommy's warning glance stopped me cold.
"We're all playing," Juliana declared, her gaze never leaving my face as she took a long swallow of whiskey. "No exceptions."
The first few rounds were innocuous enough—harmless truths, silly dares. Then the bottle reached Juliana again.
"Sienna," she said, her voice carrying over the crackling fire. "Truth or dare?"
I hesitated, feeling the weight of eyes upon me. "Truth."
Juliana's smile widened. "What's the grossest part of your body?"
The circle fell silent. Someone coughed uncomfortably.
"My scars," I answered quietly.
"No," Juliana corrected, leaning forward with predatory intensity. "The grossest part is your attitude. Acting all victim-y when Tommy's only with you out of pity."
The words hung in the air like smoke. No one spoke. No one defended me.
"Your turn," Juliana continued, passing me the bottle. "Truth or dare?"
I clutched the bottle, feeling its weight like a weapon or a shield. "Dare."
Juliana's eyes gleamed in the firelight. "I dare you to show us all exactly how you'd survive if Tommy ever left you."
The forest seemed to hold its breath around us, waiting for what would come next.
The city lights of Seattle twinkled below like fallen stars as Callahan Reed bolted upright in his penthouse bed, a scream caught in his throat. Sweat soaked through his silk sheets, his heart hammering against his ribs as the nightmare retreated.
"Sienna," he whispered, the name falling from his lips like a prayer or a curse.
It was always the same dream—darkness, the smell of blood and fear, and Sienna's small hand reaching for his in that abandoned warehouse. Only this time, her fingers had slipped through his, and he'd watched helplessly as she disappeared into shadow.
The door to his bedroom opened silently, and Marcus Chen entered with the quiet efficiency that had earned him his position as Callahan's head of security.
"You're awake," Marcus observed, placing a folder on the bedside table. "The surveillance reports are in."
Callahan ran a hand through his damp hair, his eyes fixed on the Seattle skyline. "Anything unusual?"
"The Wagner heir is hosting a party in the Cascades," Marcus said, his tone carefully neutral. "Nothing suspicious about it. Just rich kids with too much time and money."
Something cold slithered down Callahan's spine. He turned to Marcus, his expression suddenly sharp. "Where in the Cascades?"
"The north ridge, about two hours from here." Marcus frowned slightly. "Is there a problem?"
Callahan was already reaching for his phone. "Prepare the helicopter. Now."
"Sir?" Marcus's eyebrow raised slightly. "May I ask—"
"Sienna Greene is there," Callahan interrupted, his fingers flying across his phone screen. "And she's in danger."
Marcus didn't question him further. Years of working for Callahan had taught him that his employer's instincts were rarely wrong—especially when it came to Sienna Greene.
---
The campfire had burned down to embers, casting eerie shadows across the clearing. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to make myself smaller as Juliana's eyes gleamed with malicious intent.
"Your turn, Sienna," she said, her voice carrying across the hushed gathering. "Truth or dare?"
I could feel Tommy watching me, his gaze heavy with something that wasn't quite concern. The others waited, their faces indistinct in the flickering light.
"Truth," I said quietly.
Juliana's smile widened. "What's the grossest part of your body?"
The question hit like a physical blow. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as whispers rippled through the group.
"My scars," I admitted, my fingers unconsciously tracing the ridged tissue along my jawline.
"No," Juliana corrected, leaning forward with predatory intensity. "The grossest part is your attitude. Acting all victim-y when Tommy's only with you out of pity."
The words hung in the air like poison. No one spoke. No one defended me.
"Your turn," Juliana continued, passing me the bottle. "Truth or dare?"
I clutched the bottle, feeling its weight like a weapon or a shield. Around us, the forest seemed to press closer, darkness beyond the firelight thick and impenetrable.
"Dare," I said finally, lifting my chin.
Juliana's eyes gleamed with triumph. "I dare you to show us all exactly how you'd survive if Tommy ever left you."
My stomach twisted. "What do you mean?"
"Simple." Juliana stood up, her movements fluid and predatory. "Unbuckle your prosthetic leg and hop back to the cabin. Alone."
Panic surged through me. "Juliana, you know I can't—"
"That's the dare," she cut me off. "Unless you're too scared?"
The word 'scared' hung in the air between us. I looked to Tommy, silently pleading for intervention.
"Tommy," I whispered, "you know I can't be alone in the dark. Not since—"
"Not since the kidnapping," he finished for me, his voice flat. "You'll have to learn to get over it sometime, Sienna."
I stared at him in disbelief. "You're not seriously going along with this?"
"Maybe it's time you faced your fears," he said, but his eyes weren't on me—they were on Juliana, watching for her reaction.
"Tommy, please," I begged, my voice breaking. "You know what happens when I'm alone in the dark."
He stood up then, moving toward me with deliberate steps. "This ends now, Sienna."
Before I could react, he was beside me, his hands reaching for my prosthetic leg. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger than me.
"Tommy, don't!" I cried out as he unbuckled the straps holding my prosthetic in place.
"You need to learn," he muttered, his face set in hard lines I'd never seen before.
With a swift motion, he pulled the prosthetic free and stood up. I scrambled to my feet, balancing precariously on one leg, reaching for him.
"Give it back!" I screamed, panic rising in my throat as I hopped toward him.
Tommy turned away from me, his arm drawing back like a pitcher's windup. With all his strength, he hurled my prosthetic leg into the darkness beyond the firelight.
It disappeared into the shadows with a distant clatter, bouncing down the rocky slope of the mountain trail.
"Now hop back to the cabin," he said coldly. "If you can."