My fiancé's childhood friend's cat shredded the journal my mother left me before she passed away. In a burst of anger, I gave the cat a gentle swat on its backside. The next day, I was horrified to find that someone had carved deeply humiliating words into my skin. When the ambulance arrived, I lay exposed on the snowy ground.

Ryland Palmer, my fiancé, held me close, tending to my wounds with care. While I was recovering in the hospital, a mysterious package arrived for me, containing a recording device.

"Ryland, you're quite something. Just to amuse your childhood friend, you let your fiancée become a target for thugs. We've known each other for over a decade; wouldn’t it make more sense to involve me?"

"Get lost. You think she wouldn’t recognize your voice?"

"But I have a video of her being branded. Imagine showing that to everyone—wouldn't it be a spectacle?"

"A ruined journal, and now her cat can't move. If we don't teach her a proper lesson, she'll keep getting her way."

Feeling utterly desolate, I contacted a secret organization. "I want to come back. Can you send someone to get me?"

The recording played, my painful struggles evident, while the voices of those encouraging them became louder. My body trembled uncontrollably. "Get this video out there as widely as possible," someone said. Hearing the hospital room door open, I quickly turned off the recording and hid it under my pillow.

"Are you still in pain?" Ryland asked as he entered the room. "Lilly went abroad just to find a special cream for your scars—it’s supposed to be very effective. Let me apply it for you."

As he reached to pull down my blanket, I stopped his hand. With great effort, I whispered, "No, I don't want to be touched right now."

"Come on, it'll be over soon," he insisted, prying the blanket away and smirking as if he were proud of a trophy.

I bit my lip hard, tears of humiliation welling up in my eyes. I clenched my fists, forcing the tears back.

Just two mornings ago, Ryland had come in holding a little cat, with Lilly trailing behind him. I was puzzled to see them together when Lilly spoke softly, "My allergies are really acting up. Could you keep the cat for me, Penelope?"

Before I could reply, Ryland placed the cat in my arms, saying, "Haven't you always wanted a cat? Here she is!"

I was upset, but I didn’t want adult issues to affect an innocent cat, so I went to the pet store for supplies. When I returned, I found the cat tearing up the journal my mother had left me. Seeing the tattered pages felt like my heart was being ripped apart. In a moment of weakness, I tapped the cat's backside.

When Lilly saw me do it, she immediately scooped the cat up, tears streaming down her face, "I know you don’t like me or my cat. I’ll leave now."

My journal had been locked in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. No mere cat could have gotten to it. Inspecting the cabinet, I saw signs of forced entry on three locks. I demanded an explanation from Lilly.

Sniffling, Lilly turned to Ryland, "Didn't you say that everything here was mine too?"

Ryland sharply reprimanded Lilly, demanding she apologize, but then assured me he’d find an expert to restore the journal.

I thought that was the end of it. Little did I know that because of this incident, he handed me over to those thugs and let the video of their assault spread repeatedly.

"All done. Just leave it uncovered for a bit," Ryland instructed.

I threw the blanket over myself anyway, but within minutes, an unbearable itch spread over my wounds. As I scratched helplessly, Ryland claimed it was the medicine working and told me to endure it.

"I'm off to get some food; stay here and rest," he said, turning to leave.

Watching him go, I dialed Lucas, my brother, and broke down in tears. Lucas was an undercover cop, and due to the nature of his work, we rarely had contact. But surprisingly, he answered on the first ring.

He had already heard about my ordeal and was about to call to check on me. "Penelope, you shouldn’t stay there. Leave Ryland behind and come find me. If you’re willing to return to the organization, the government will arrange for your extraction."

I once worked undercover like my brother, but Ryland didn't want the danger and distance between us, so I gave it all up to be by his side. But all my sacrifices were repaid with betrayal.

It seems I really should leave.

"Lucas, I agree."

Less than two hours after Lucas informed the organization of my decision to return, I received confirmation. In three days, a helicopter would come to extract me. I wanted nothing more to do with Ryland Palmer. Gritting my teeth, I managed to pull on my jeans and stumbled out of the hospital, searching for a place to hide out for the next few days.

But it felt like every passerby was dissecting me with their eyes. I kept my head down until a man blocked my path.

"Hey there, beautiful. Remember me? You were quite the party the other night. Ready for round two?"

He slung an arm around my shoulder and started making sleazy comments, his eyes shamelessly roving over me. Memories of two nights ago flooded my mind. I shoved him away as hard as I could, but he only became more aggressive. The people around us started whispering, alternating between watching me and glancing at their phones.

"Is she really pulling a stunt right here on the street? Quite the show," someone remarked.

Another person even joked with the thug, "When you’re done, maybe I could get a chance?"

Panicking, I pleaded for help from those around me, but no one stepped in. The thug kicked me to the ground. Lying there in despair, I grabbed at the hem of the only other woman’s skirt, hoping for her help. She pushed me away with disdain, as if I were diseased.

Curled up on the sidewalk, I closed my eyes. Clutching a stone, I was ready to defend myself if necessary. Then I heard Lilly’s voice.

"Ryland, you're devious. With this ‘damsel in distress’ stunt, she'll be forced to go along with your plan."

"Don’t overdo it," Ryland’s voice replied, "She’s going to be your sister-in-law eventually."

The voices faded as the thug attacked again. At the last moment, Ryland kicked him away, scooping me up from the ground.

"Your injuries aren’t even healed. Why are you out here?" Ryland scolded, holding me close.

"The photos are already online. I’m doing my best to contain them. No matter what happens, I’ll have your back, okay?"

Ryland sighed as he looked at me. Seeing my reluctance to return to the hospital, he brought me home.

The shrill ring of a phone shattered the silence between us. Ryland stepped away to answer in the living room. When he returned, he handed me a Victorian-style dress from the closet.

"Lilly means well. She found a top therapist from abroad for you. Let’s go see him."

A chill ran down my spine. Calmly, I pushed Ryland back. "I’m fine. I don’t need therapy."

He frowned, clearly displeased. "Penelope, be reasonable! We’re all trying to help."

Despite my protests, Ryland insisted on taking me to the car. His driving was reckless, and even lying flat in the passenger seat, every bump pulled painfully at my wounds, bringing back memories from two nights ago.

With a sudden stop, the car came to a halt, and Ryland opened my door, pulling me out. Onlookers glared maliciously, whispering vile comments. I could only cover my ears in shame, feeling like I belonged in the shadows.

Head down, I let Ryland lead me. As soon as we entered the consultation room, Lilly rushed to greet us.

"Penelope, I’ve found a psychologist from overseas. He’ll help heal the damage caused by that thug."

The therapist’s gaze unsettled me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Ryland positioned me at the center of the room, the bright lights making me uncomfortable.

"Relax," the therapist said soothingly. "I know sitting's uncomfortable right now, so I’ve arranged a bed for you. Lie down however you’re most comfortable."

I fixed my eyes on the clock, counting the seconds. One... two... three...

I was in a fog, guided by the therapist to relive the events of the previous night over and over. Throughout this, I screamed, shouted, and tumbled repeatedly from the bed, only for Ryland Palmer to place me back. Until one time, while I was on the ground, terrified and unable to bear it any longer, I clutched at Ryland’s pant leg, "Please, help me. I’m scared. Save me."

I repeatedly banged my head against the floor, desperate not to relive the moment when the thug had tormented me. Ryland pulled his leg away, and the therapist kept applying psychological pressure. I was drawn into intensifying the ordeal, reliving the branding iron's burning pain, the knife slicing into my skin, leaving abusive words etched all over my body. I writhed on the floor in agony, constantly pleading for them to stop.

“Everything's set. Shall we proceed to the next stage?” someone said, but my mind was already foggy. “Boss, the hypnosis is complete. No matter what happens today, she won’t remember a thing.”

“But don’t push it too far. People have a strong survival instinct.”

Lilly chimed in playfully, “Ryland, I want Milo to have his revenge, so I’ve brought in a bunch of alley cats.”

“Can they stay with Penelope for a few hours? We'll observe from the control room to ensure no lasting harm comes to her. She won’t remember anything by tomorrow anyway.”

“I’ll get to avenge Milo, so why not? What do you say, Ryland?”

After a long pause, Ryland agreed. Those words terrified me. I wanted to struggle to my feet but felt like a ton of bricks was pressing me down. Tears streamed down my face, the humiliation of being utterly at their mercy left me gasping for air.

Soon, I felt cats jumping all over me. My scalp ached as if alley cats were clawing at it, and they started tearing at my clothes. “Ryland, I've come at just the right time, huh? Little sister-in-law’s clothes are all in tatters from these cats.”

“The thug’s had his fun. Ryland, she’s hypnotized anyway. Let us have a go.” I wanted to escape, but I couldn’t. Tears fell relentlessly onto the carpet. I heard Ryland’s detached voice utter these chilling words, “Go ahead, but be careful.”

My last glimmer of hope was thoroughly extinguished.