"I thought I told you to get lost," Killian growled, his voice rough and dangerous. The door creaked open again. Someone was in his space. Again.

But then he heard that voice—familiar, cocky, way too calm.

"Whoa, chill K.D, it's me."

Holland.

Killian's jaw tightened but his body relaxed just enough to keep him from breaking something. Holland walked in like he owned the place, totally unbothered, his red eyes glowing—at least he wasn't another fake like Elara.

Killian dragged his hand down his face, fingers pressing into his jaw. The anger under his skin was old, wild. It clawed at his chest. Just thinking about Elara made him want to puke.

She didn't give a damn. Never fucking did. That stupid smirk. That goddamn smirk.

She had Jimin wrapped around her finger while he watched everything go to hell.

Holland put a coke in front of him like some kind of peace offering. "You're pissed off. Here, drink this."

K.D didn't think. He just grabbed it, unscrewed the cap and chugged it like it might put out the fire inside. But it didn't. Never did. The cold stuff went down his throat but the fire in his chest got worse.

His voice came out rough. "I don't get what Jimin sees in that bitch." Every word tasted like shit. "I really don't get it."

He threw the can before he knew what he was doing, the sound of it hitting the wall like a scream finally getting out.

Holland just laughed. "I'm guessing Elara's what set you off today."

Killian shot him a look that could kill. "You think this is funny?"

Holland shrugged like nothing mattered. "It's just your face, man. It's cracking me up."

Killian got even madder. "She needs someone to put her in her place. She'd never try that shit with you."

His hands curled into fists. "Jimin should've seen what she really is a long time ago. She doesn't deserve him. Never did."

Holland's voice changed a little. "They say love makes you blind, but Jimin? He's walking into fire with his eyes wide open."

K.D ground his teeth. Idiot. Stupid, loyal idiot.

"That's why I don't do that love crap," Holland said, his eyes looking far away. "Makes you feel like nothing."

Then it got quiet again. Heavy quiet.

But it didn't last.

A phone rang—loud and sharp. Holland looked at his screen.

"Jimin."

Killian's heart skipped. Of course.

Holland answered, putting it on speaker. Jimin's face showed up on the screen, all happy and clueless.

"Where are you?" Holland asked, sounding suspicious.

"Going to Elara's place," Jimin said, sounding excited.

Killian made a noise like he was choking.

"You're back already?" Holland asked. "Weren't you supposed to come tomorrow?"

Jimin smiled. "I couldn't miss her birthday. And... I'm gonna propose to her today."

Those words hit like a truck.

Killian didn't realize he'd moved until he grabbed the phone from Holland, breathing hard.

"Tell me you're kidding. Tell me you're not this stupid."

"K.D, why are you acting like this?"

"Jimin, are you deaf? Blind? Or just stupid?" Killian's voice was shaking now. "That girl is poisonous. She's manipulative, dangerous—and she doesn't deserve any part of you."

Jimin blinked, looking confused. "Killian, you look like hell. What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong?" His voice cracked. "You are! You're the problem! You're about to give your heart to a girl who ripped it apart once—and you're thanking her for it!"

"People change, K.D," Jimin said quietly. "Elara's changed."

No. She hasn't.

You just want to believe she has so you don't have to face reality.

"That was all a mistake, everything that happened before—she's sorry. You should give her a chance."

Silence.

Because Killian had already thrown the phone across the room.

Again.

"You broke my phone," Holland said flatly.

Killian turned on him, furious. "Your phone doesn't matter when he's about to marry that snake."

Holland sighed, looking tired. "What do you want me to do, K.D? You know Jimin doesn't listen. He's in love, and love blinds people. Makes them see angels in demons."

Killian ran both hands through his hair, pulling hard. "This is making me crazy."

---

Vala's Mansion

Queenie walked into the room, her heart pounding. The cold air of the mansion wrapped around her, choking but familiar. She'd finished her chores—barely—with Allison's help, but she was still late.

Goerigna sat in her usual spot, barely looking up from her phone. Her voice cut through the quiet, harsh and cold.

"You're late again," Goerigna said as she poured water over the leftover food, making it look even more gross. "Go ahead and starve. Maybe that'll teach you."

Queenie bit her lip, tasting shame.

"Auntie, you called for me," she whispered.

Goerigna didn't look up, scrolling on her phone. "Where's your monthly pay?" she asked, her voice flat but sharp.

Queenie swallowed, looking at the floor. She couldn't look at her aunt—not now, not ever.

"I... I don't have any money," she said, her words feeling empty.

Goerigna's eyes finally looked up, disbelief flickering. She narrowed her eyes, lips curling. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you trying to scam me?"

"Auntie, I really mean it," Queenie begged, her voice barely there. "After you stopped me from working, I haven't made any money."

Goerigna snapped. She stood up fast, her chair scraping loud against the floor. She stepped closer to Queenie, towering over her like a storm about to hit.

"Enough." Her voice was cold, final. "You've got till tomorrow. Bring me the money, or I'll kick you out. Got it?"

Queenie's breath caught. She dropped to her knees, hands shaking as she clutched the floor, crying.

"Auntie, please, I swear, I don't have it. Just... just give me more time," she sobbed.

Goerigna slapped her across the face hard. The sting went through her whole body, but it wasn't the pain that broke her. It was cold , nothing in Goerigna's eyes.

"Do you understand me, Queenie? I want that money tomorrow."

Queenie nodded fast, heart racing. She didn't dare look up, but Goerigna's cold fingers on her chin made her feel trapped.

Goerigna let go with a sharp push, turning away like the conversation never mattered.

"Here." She picked up some crumpled bills from the bed, throwing them at Queenie. "Go buy groceries and clean the house. I don't want to come back to an empty house. Got it?"

"Alright," Queenie whispered.

"Get lost," Goerigna snapped.

Queenie scrambled up, her aunt's words cutting deeper. She rushed out, tears falling as she went downstairs, the unfairness crushing her chest.

"Hey, you."

Queenie froze at Catalina's voice. She wiped her face fast, trying to hide the tears, but it was pointless. Catalina's cold eyes met hers.

"I want you to wash my clothes," Catalina ordered, voice icy. "I left them in my room. It needs to be done today."

"Okay, I'll use the washing machine," Queenie replied, voice still shaking.

But Catalina wasn't having it. She grabbed Queenie by the hair and yanked her back, making her wince.

"I want you to wash them by hand, and it better be done today. No excuses."

Queenie's heart sank. "But Auntie—"

"I don't care about your excuses, you useless thing." Catalina's grip tightened as she shoved Queenie back, making her stumble and fall. "Get to work."

The words stung, and Queenie lay there for a moment, too broken to get up. More tears came as she stared at the floor, emptiness spreading through her chest.

Why is my life so pathetic? she thought, her heart breaking. Why does it always have to be me?

---

Outside

Queenie walked without really seeing, her thoughts drowning out everything. The world seemed far away, like she was walking through fog. Her body moved on its own, her mind lost in despair.

Without realizing it, she stepped onto the road, her mind consumed with hopelessness.

A car screeched to a stop just inches from her. The world blurred as her heart jumped into her throat, the fear of death overwhelming her. She barely registered the near hit before she fell to the ground, her bags scattered on the pavement.

A man got out of the car, rushing toward her looking worried.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," he said, voice full of panic.

"It's fine," Queenie said shakily, pushing herself up. "I wasn't paying attention. It's my fault."

"No, it's mine," the man insisted, reaching down to get her bags. "I should have been more careful."

Queenie looked up at him, surprised by how handsome he was. His eyes were kind, filled with something real that made her heart skip.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked, voice soft and concerned.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks for checking," she replied, voice distant but grateful.

"Come on," he said gently. "Let me drop you off. It's the least I can do."

Queenie hesitated, everything in her screaming to refuse. But something in his eyes softened her walls, and she gave in.

"Alright," she said, following him to the car.

---

Jimin stood frozen in the doorway, the scene in front of him suffocating him. Elara, with a guy—another betrayal.

They were making out in the bedroom.

His heart broke as he saw her scrambling to cover herself with a duvet. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

"Babe," Elara's voice broke the silence, fragile and frantic. She rushed toward him, desperate. "Babe, this isn't what you think. Please, I can explain…"

Jimin stepped back, his whole body shaking with anger and heartbreak. He wanted to scream at her, accuse her of everything, but the words wouldn't come. He just stood there, staring at her, every lie she'd told pressing against his chest.

"What do you want to explain, Elara? The fact that I caught you cheating on me again?" His voice cracked, bitter and raw. "What am I to you, huh? A fool? A toy?"

Elara's eyes widened, panic flickering. She reached for him, her hand shaking like it might fix everything. But Jimin pulled back, his hands balling into fists.

"It's not like that," she whispered, voice cracking. "I didn't—"

"No!" Jimin snapped, voice sharp. "Don't feed me that crap. I've been blind, thinking you might change. But I gave you chance after chance. And every time, you've done this. Cheating. Lying. And you still expect me to believe in you?"

He was done. He felt like an idiot, standing there, hoping for something that would never come. The pain was choking him, and the bitterness was a taste he couldn't spit out.

"It's over," Jimin said, voice low but final. "And this time, I'm not going back on my word. You've lost your chance, Elara."

Her face twisted in disbelief, eyes widening as she scrambled toward him. "Jimin, please! I'm sorry! One last chance—"

Jimin's eyes hardened. "Try it, Elara. If that hand touches me, I swear, I'll break it. Don't ever touch me again." His words were ice-cold, cruel. "You disgust me."

Elara stood there, shaking, like his words had hit her. Then, in an explosion of fury, she pushed the center table down with a violent crash.

"Jimin! You belong to me! You can't leave me!" she screamed, voice shrill, full of rage and desperation. "I know you'll come back! You'll beg for me, just like always!"

Jimin didn't look back. He turned and walked away, his steps echoing in the empty room. But even as he left, his mind was clouded. He had to leave. He had to get away from her.

---

Elara's phone buzzed.

She froze, her rage turning to confusion. Her shaking fingers reached for it, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.

A message.

"You don't know the truth… but you will soon."

Her breath caught. The words sent a chill down her spine. What did that mean? Who was this? Her thoughts scrambled, heart pounding.

JIMIN'S MANSION – NIGHT

The house was dead quiet.

Too fucking perfect.

Every marble surface gleamed like it was mocking him. Every piece of furniture sat exactly where it should, screaming that nobody actually lived here. You'd never know a relationship just exploded in this place—no broken glass, no tissues, nothing.

But the air felt wrong. Heavy. Like when you know someone's watching you but can't see them. It wasn't peaceful and quiet. It was the kind that makes your skin itch.

Holland kicked the front door open—BANG. His boots echoed through the hallway like gunshots. K.D was right behind him, breathing hard, but not from running. From dreading whatever mess they were about to walk into.

They expected destruction. Crying. Something that made sense.

Instead they found Jimin.

He was sprawled on his velvet couch like he didn't have a care in the world. Just scrolling through his phone, calm as you please. Like the woman he supposedly loved hadn't just walked out forever.

That damn smirk was still there. The one that made Holland want to deck him.

"You good?" Holland's voice came out rougher than he meant.

Jimin didn't even look up. "Peachy."

"Peachy?" K.D couldn't believe it. "You're not even gonna pretend to be upset?"

Jimin finally lifted his eyes. They were cold—the kind of cold that hits you in the gut.

"Why waste time crying over something I chose?"

Holland stepped closer, heart pounding. "You broke up with her?"

"I was going to. She just got there first."

The words hit like ice water. K.D felt sick.

"You planned it?" K.D was still trying to wrap his head around it. "So everything—the past months—that was all fake?"

Jimin's face didn't change. "Distraction. Strategy. I was bored."

Holland wanted to grab him and shake him. "That's fucked up."

"Better than being stupid," Jimin shot back.

K.D studied him for a long moment. Something wasn't right. There was something underneath all that cold—maybe pain, maybe something worse. "But you loved her once, didn't you?"

The question hung there. For the first time, Jimin hesitated. Just for a second—a tiny crack in the armor.

"Loving her was the stupidest thing I ever did," Jimin said quietly.

There it was. The mask slipped just enough. Holland saw it—the hurt, the raw edges of something that got shattered.

"She made me feel small," Jimin continued, voice getting softer. "Like nothing I did was ever enough. Like I had to beg for scraps. I swore I'd never be that guy again."

K.D felt that punch to the gut. For a split second, he saw Jimin differently—not as the ice-cold bastard, but as someone who got crushed and went numb afterward.

Jimin's hands clenched into fists, knuckles white.

"I looked in the mirror and didn't know who I was anymore. That's when I knew it was over."

Nobody said anything. What could they say?

Jimin breathed out slowly, that cold mask sliding back into place.

"And now?" K.D asked.

Jimin's smile turned cruel. "Now I have become the villain. The one she always worried I'd turn into."

Holland blinked, trying to process that.

"I'm entering the Saga beauty awards. Not just entering—I'm gonna destroy the competition. Make sure she sees what she threw away every damn day."

Something about the way he said it made K.D's stomach twist.

"You're dangerous when you get like this," K.D muttered.

Jimin's eyes went ice-cold. "No. I'm dangerous when I care. Now? I feel nothing. And that makes me unstoppable."

---

EARLIER THAT MORNING — VALE MANSION, TEA ROOM

Sunlight came through the stained glass like it was mocking everything wrong with this place. The Vale mansion was too quiet. Wrong kind of quiet.

Catalina sat at the fancy table, sipping tea like she was some kind of queen. Silk robe, smug smile—the whole act. In her head she was thinking, I'll make sure Queenie leaves. I'll make her life hell.

Goerigna sat next to her, half-reading the society pages. The maids moved around like ghosts.

Catalina took another sip—

Then froze.

Her eyes went wide. Her hand started shaking.

"Catalina?" Goerigna looked up.

The cup fell. Porcelain exploded across the floor. Catalina grabbed her throat, gasping.

"Something's—wrong..."

Then she started puking blood. Dark, ugly red splattered everywhere. The sound was awful—like an animal dying.

Everyone started screaming. A maid dropped her tray. Goerigna caught Catalina as she collapsed, convulsing.

"Someone call 911. Georgina shouted

TWO HOURS LATER — HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM

The antiseptic smell couldn't hide the fear. The lights are too bright, everything is too cold. Goerigna paced like a caged animal, her robe stained with panic and her daughter's blood. Allison stood there looking lost.

A doctor finally came out. "We stabilized her. She ingested something toxic—definitely poison. If you'd brought her in a minute later, she might not have made it."

Goerigna's breath caught. Her face twisted into something ugly.

"Who would do this to my daughter?"

Then, quietly:

"I saw something."

It was Sage, the youngest maid. Pale and shaking, wringing her hands.

"Last night... I saw Queenie in the pantry. She had this little bottle and said she was making a 'special brew.' I thought it was just some herbal thing..."

Goerigna turned toward her, eyes blazing.

"Bring her to me."

LATER — QUEENIE'S ROOM

Queenie sat cross-legged on her bed, barefoot, putting her hair up in a messy bun. Had no idea hell was about to break loose.

She didn't hear the storm until it was already in the room.

The door exploded open.

"You tried to murder my daughter."

Goerigna's voice wasn't loud—it was a weapon.

Queenie froze.

Blinked. Once. Twice. "What?"

Her brain felt like molasses. She couldn't breathe.

Murder? What the hell? She looked up at Georgina, trying to piece it together like a broken puzzle.

"What did you put in the tea?"

"I swear—I have no idea what you're talking about, Auntie."

"We have a witness. And we have a victim. Where is it? The poison?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

She couldn't breathe. Heart pounding. Ears ringing.

This isn't real. This can't be happening.

"You wanted her gone."

"That's a lie!" Queenie's voice cracked.

"Search everything," Goerigna ordered.

The maids moved in like vultures. Drawers yanked open. Clothes thrown around. Pages ripped from books.

Then—

"Here it is!"

A maid pulled a small amber bottle from under Queenie's pillow.

"No... no, that's not mine!" Queenie's voice broke completely. "Someone put that there! This is crazy!"

But their faces had already changed. Judging. Disgusted. Scared.

SLAP.

Queenie's face snapped sideways, stinging from Goerigna's hand.

"You'll be lucky if I don't have you arrested right now. You filthy little snake."

"I didn't do it! I swear! I barely even talk to Catalina—"

"You hated her. Admit it."

"I'm being set up!"

Everything was falling apart. Her vision blurred. Hands shaking.

Then—

"All of you, STOP!"

Allison shoved between them like a shield. "You're acting like a damn mob!"

"She tried to kill your sister!"

"You don't know that! You just want someone to blame!"

Goerigna pointed. "That's proof enough."

"No, it's a setup."

"She's leaving. She walks out and never comes back."

"Auntie, please..." Queenie dropped to her knees, sobbing. "Please don't do this. I have nowhere to go."

"Don't touch me. Your apology means nothing."

"Mother, maybe we should look into this more?" Allison tried.

"The evidence is right there! This witch tried to kill your sister!"

"Auntie... Catalina is my sister too. Why would I hurt her?"

"Why should I believe you? I always knew you were trouble—but I never thought you'd be this heartless."

"I'm calling the cops."

"No!" Queenie's voice tore through the room. "Please, Auntie, please—"

"Mother, don't call the police. Please," Allison begged.

"Fine. Then she brings me the hospital bill by tomorrow. Or I will have her arrested."

"Auntie... I don't have any money."

"I don't care. Get out. And you leave without taking a single thing from here. Not a shirt. Not a pin."

"And Allison—you help her, and I'll have you arrested for helping a criminal."

She stormed off.

Queenie collapsed. Her lungs burned. Her mind screamed.

She looked at Allison. Her only thread left.

"I believe you," Allison whispered. Her voice shook with everything she couldn't do. "I'm sorry. I just... I can't help you right now."

"It's fine," Queenie whispered, even though it wasn't. Even though it never would be.

She stood up. One foot in front of the other. Broken.

"I'll see you later."

Allison wiped away a tear. "Take care of yourself."

Queenie nodded.

She stepped into the cold morning light.

The door slammed behind her.

She didn't look back.

Because looking back meant breaking.

And she had no pieces left to lose.

But something new flickered in her chest.

Not fear.

Not sadness.

Revenge.

The front door slammed so hard it shook the whole house. Celeste threw her bag across the couch and glared at everyone in the room.

"God, it was all your fault!" she yelled, pointing at Ronnie.

Ronnie jumped up from his chair. "My fault? You wouldn't stop talking! That's why I got distracted!"

"Can you two shut up already?" K.D said from the corner, rubbing his head. "I'm getting a headache."

Celeste rolled her eyes. "It's Ronnie's fault."

"My fault? You're always—"

The room went quiet. Someone was coming down the stairs.

Jimin.

He looked different. Black shirt, jeans, but there was something else about him. Everyone stared.

"What's going on?" he asked. His voice was calm, but not the good kind of calm.

Celeste forgot she was mad and ran to hug him. "I missed you so much," she said, holding him tight.

Jimin almost smiled. "It was just a month."

"Doesn't matter," she said, looking up at him.

"I missed you too," he said, and meant it.

Ronnie stepped forward. "I heard what happened. You okay?"

Jimin's smile got weird. "What do you think?"

"I thought you'd be locked in your room crying," Ronnie said. "But you look... fine."

Jimin straightened up. "I've got everything any woman could want. Why would I cry over her? She's in the past now."

Nobody said anything.

Holland cleared his throat. "We should go. I have a shoot."

---

**Starlight Modeling**

The backstage was buzzing with energy. Jimin stood looking at himself in the mirror, checking his white polo shirt.

Holland came over. "Are you nervous?"

"Why would I be nervous? This isn't my first shoot," Jimin said, but his voice sounded different than usual.

"I know, but this one's different. Everyone's talking about you."

Jimin smiled. "Good. Let them talk. The old me is dead. This new me can do anything."

Holland nodded. "You're amazing."

"I can't wait to see their faces," Jimin said.

______

The Runway

The other models were lined up, whispering to each other:

"Is that really Jimin?" "He never did a 'Hottest Male Idol' competition before." "Too pretty. Not tough enough."

Then Jimin walked in. White baggy jeans, fitted polo, matching jacket. He looked incredible.

Everyone went quiet. The male models tried to get his attention. The female models stared.

Elara couldn't breathe. She'd never seen him look like this before.

Aldrin clenched his fists. How dare his half-brother look better than him?

Holland stood watching with a grin.

The director leaned forward. "Oh my god, Jimin... your transformation is incredible."

Jimin nodded once. "Thank you. Let's work."

He looked at Elara for a second, then turned away like she wasn't worth his time.

____

An Hour Later

The backstage felt empty after all the cameras and flashing lights. Jimin looked cool and untouchable.

Celeste ran over. "Jimin, you were amazing! Please marry me," she said, half-joking.

Jimin leaned against a wardrobe, arms crossed. "When would our wedding be?" he asked, playing along.

"Tomorrow if you weren't my brother! God, you look so handsome," she said.

"You're crazy, Celeste," Jimin said, almost smiling.

"Give me a few minutes to get my stuff and we'll go," she said.

Jimin nodded and walked away. He pulled out his phone. The internet was going crazy - his photos were everywhere. Likes, shares, comments. All going up.

"Babe," Elara called from behind him.

He didn't turn around.

She stepped in front of him. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Jimin, I know what I did was wrong but please listen to me. I still love you, I—"

"Why?" he cut her off.

"Why do you still love me?" he asked again, getting closer.

"Because I—"

"Enough, Lara. I don't love you. I regret ever being with you. Stay away from me."

"You can't do this. I know you still love me," she said, tears in her eyes.

Jimin grabbed her wrist. "Yes, I loved you. But that was then," he said.

"Jimin, you're hurting me."

He laughed, but it wasn't funny. "Hurting you? You don't get to use that word." He let go of her arm.

"Stay away from me," he said.

She grabbed his hand. Jimin froze.

"Remove that hand before I break it," he said quietly.

She let go fast. "Prove it to me, Jimin. I know you're just hurt, but I promise I'll be good now."

Jimin raised his voice so everyone could hear.

"Everyone listen up," he called out. All conversation stopped.

"I'm officially announcing my breakup with Elara. I'm single now, free as a bird. There's nothing between us anymore. You can publish that."

Elara stared at him, shocked.

"I warned you. I feel nothing for you," he said, then walked away.

**The Club**

The club lights flashed like a heartbeat. Queenie sat while the stylist did her hair and makeup. She stared at herself in the mirror, eyes wide and scared.

Every brush stroke reminded her she was selling herself. She wondered if she still had the right to hope.

"You're ready," the stylist said.

Queenie nodded and stood up, smoothing her dress.

______

Bidding Room

She walked into the auction hall. Men in expensive suits looked at her like she was a prize.

"Ten thousand dollars!" one man shouted.

"Fifteen thousand!" another called.

Each number felt like a nail in her coffin. Queenie put her hands on her chest, trying to hold herself together. She prayed silently: Please let this end soon.

Mom, why did you leave me in this cruel life? she thought.

"Thirty thousand dollars, final!" an old man's voice boomed.

Her heart pounded. The thought of spending a night with that creepy stranger made her sick. She wanted to run but had nowhere to go.

Then a new voice cut through the noise.

"Fifty thousand," a man said calmly.

Queenie looked up. The room went quiet as a tall figure stepped forward.

The auction manager stammered, "The bidding is closed, sir—maybe you could wait for the next—"

But the man ignored him.

"One hundred thousand dollars," he said clearly. "I want her."

The first bidder got angry. "That's not possible! I bought her first!" he yelled.

Queenie's legs felt weak. Without thinking, she ran behind the stranger—Jimin—and grabbed his shirt.

"Please don't let them take me," she whispered, shaking.

Jimin smiled slightly. "I don't plan on letting you go, angel," he said softly.

The manager swallowed hard. "Sir, the previous bid stands—"

"The highest bidder gets the girl," Jimin said calmly. He took her hand and led her from the stage.

People started whispering. The first bidder yelled in anger.

He led her away.

Queenie didn't know if she'd escaped hell or walked into something worse.