Isabella "Bella" Douglas POV:

"On your knees," Kane ordered, his voice echoing in the hollow silence of the living room.

I stood my ground. "I didn't do it."

Jameson's bodyguards seized my arms, forcing me to the cold marble floor. My protest was a useless whisper against the storm of their rage.

Blake returned from our father's study holding an old dog whip, a thick, braided leather tool of brutal discipline. The first lash tore through the skin on my back. A sharp, searing agony ripped a gasp from my throat. My white dress began to bloom crimson.

"Confess," Derrick demanded, his face a mask of cold fury.

"I didn't do it," I choked out, the words tasting like blood.

The whipping continued. Each strike was a fresh wave of fire, tearing through my skin, stealing my breath.

"You're a disgrace," Kane hissed, his face close to mine. "Poisoned by jealousy."

Maria ran into the room, her hands outstretched, pleading for them to stop. "Please, masters, she's your blood!"

Derrick didn't even look at her. He simply ordered her hauled from the room, her cries fading down the hall.

As the world began to fray at the edges, their words became a nightmarish chorus. "Cheap imitation." "Useless substitute."

They locked me in my room for three days. No food. No water. No medical care. The pain was a living entity-a constant, gnawing beast that fed on my flesh.

Through the walls, I could hear them. Doting on Haleigh. Laughing with her. Promising her the world. Every sound was a new lash to my soul, a fresh reminder that I was nothing.

On the third day, delirious with pain and thirst, I finally stumbled from my room. They were in the living room, planning a yacht trip for Haleigh. "To see the dolphins," she was saying, her voice bright and cheerful.

She saw me, her face instantly transforming into a mask of saccharine concern. She rushed to my side, grabbing my arm. "You have to come! It'll be a family day."

I tried to pull away, but Haleigh's eyes filled with tears. "Please," she whimpered to the men. "I forgive her for what she did. I just want my sister."

"Don't be ungrateful," Jameson snapped at me. "She's your sister. She's my wife. Show some respect."

They forced me onto the yacht. The salt in the air was agony on the open wounds covering my back.

Haleigh demanded a barbecue on deck. A sudden squall descended, the wind tipping the grill over, sending hot coals and skewers scattering across the teak.

Jameson and my brothers instantly formed a human shield around Haleigh, protecting her from the chaos. They didn't even look at me.

A burning coal landed on the hem of my dress. Flames erupted, engulfing my legs. I let out a raw, animal scream of pure agony.

They didn't hear me. They were too busy fussing over a single red mark on Haleigh's hand.

A young crewman threw himself over me, smothering the flames with his jacket and his own body, his actions a stark contrast to my family's complete indifference.

They never even looked back.

Isabella "Bella" Douglas POV:

Through a morphine haze, courtesy of the ship's medic, I watched them lead Haleigh below deck.

They were still cooing over the tiny burn on her hand, their backs turned to me-and to the smoldering ruin of my dress.

My hidden phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Mr. Abernathy.

Transaction complete. Godspeed, Ms. Hale.

A wave of relief, so powerful it almost drowned out the pain, washed over me. I was so close.

Jameson came below deck a few minutes later, his face tight with annoyance.

"What are you hiding?" he demanded, his eyes finally landing on the severe, blistering burns that had devoured the skin on my legs.

For a split second, I saw horror flash in his eyes. A flicker of something human.

"I didn't hear you," he said, his voice strained. "On deck, with the wind... I didn't hear you scream."

He promised to stay, said he would get the medic to re-dress the wounds.

But then Haleigh's voice drifted down from the deck, light and carefree.

"Jameson, darling! The dolphins are here! Come make a wish!"

He hesitated. His gaze was torn between my mangled legs and the sound of her voice.

He chose her.

He always chose her.

He left.

Later, they moved me, setting me up in a deck chair like a forgotten piece of furniture, as the four of them stood at the railing, watching the sunset.

They laughed and pointed as a pod of dolphins leaped through the waves, their silver bodies catching the last rays of light.

"Make a wish!" Haleigh chirped, leaning against Jameson's shoulder.

I closed my eyes. The fire in my legs was a dull, throbbing echo of the inferno that had consumed my life.

I made a wish of my own.

A vow.

I turned my head, my eyes finding Haleigh's across the deck.

"I wish," I said, my voice clear and steady, cutting through the sound of the waves, "that I never have to see any of you again."

Just as the words left my lips, the sky cracked open.

A clap of thunder, so loud it shook the yacht, drowned out the finality of my words.

The storm had returned with a vengeance.

Isabella "Bella" Douglas POV:

As the words left my mouth, a crack of thunder tore through the sky, drowning out everything else. It was as if the universe itself had heard my wish and sealed it with a roar.

Jameson and my brothers didn't hear me.

Their only focus was Haleigh, who shrieked at the sound and buried her face in Jameson's chest. They rushed her inside, shielding her from the sudden downpour, leaving me alone on the storm-lashed deck.

A strange sense of peace settled over me. It was done.

A week later, Haleigh insisted I accompany her to the annual Black and White Ball, a major event for the Five Families. I refused.

"You will go," Derrick said, his voice leaving no room for argument. He and Kane dragged me from my room. "You will smile. And you will not embarrass this Family."

At the ball, Haleigh was a magnet for attention, playing the part of the tragic, beautiful wife. She kept pressing champagne flutes into my hand.

"My doctor says I can't," she'd say with a sad little smile. "You drink for me, sister."

Drunk and disoriented, my head swimming, I felt Haleigh's hand on my arm. "You don't look well," she said, her voice laced with a venomous sweetness. She led me down a quiet corridor to a private room. "Rest in here."

The door clicked shut behind me, the lock engaging with a heavy, final thud.

A man emerged from the shadows. He was an Associate of a rival family, a man known for his brutish appetites.

"Haleigh said you were looking for a good time."

The alcohol haze vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp dread. I backed away as he advanced, his intentions a predatory gleam in his leering smile.

I heard voices in the hall. It was Haleigh, and with her, Jameson. He'd left a meeting early, worried about me, he was saying.

Hope-stupid, desperate, and blinding-flared in my chest.

"Jameson!" I screamed, pounding on the heavy oak door. "Help me!"

Haleigh immediately clutched her chest, letting out a pained gasp. "My heart... my pills... they're at home!" she cried, her voice a perfect symphony of panic.

I heard Jameson hesitate. His footsteps paused right outside the door.

For a single, silent beat, the world stopped.

He knew I was in here. He knew I was in trouble.

He chose Haleigh.

I heard him scoop her into his arms, his voice a soothing murmur as he carried her away, leaving me to my fate.

The man lunged. I grabbed the first heavy thing I could find-a glass ashtray-and smashed it over his head. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

I fled the hotel, my dress torn, my feet bare on the cold, rain-slicked pavement.

Headlights blinded me. Jameson's Bentley.

It slammed into me, the impact a white-hot explosion of pain.

The car paused for a single, agonizing heartbeat.

Then, it accelerated, its tires screeching as it sped away, leaving me broken in the street.