A bitter laugh echoed in my mind. I truly didn't understand him.

Maybe this was just another one of his tricks...

"Money's boring. Let's play a game, Mr. Delgado."

The man's mocking voice cut through my thoughts. He waved at the surveillance camera overhead.

"Bring her in!"

Two minutes later, a familiar shriek pierced the air.

I slowly turned my head. Yvette Henson. They'd taken her too.

My heart sank. This wasn't a trick after all.

"Howard, save me!"

Yvette burst through the door screaming like a woman possessed.

The man aimed his phone at both of us.

"Mr. Delgado, all of Kingston City says you're a devoted man. Well, now both your women are here. Pick one."

"Let them both go! I have money—"

Before he finished, the man backhanded Yvette across the face.

Then he grabbed my hospital gown and ripped it open.

"Stop stalling, Mr. Delgado! If you won't choose, you lose them both. Two minutes. Give me your answer!"

"Howard! Save me!"

Yvette's sobs filled the room.

I knew—I knew—Howard wouldn't choose me.

But something possessed me to speak anyway.

"Howard, I've saved you so many times. Just this once... save me back?"

On the screen, Howard's gaze flickered between us. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"Time's up, Mr. Delgado..."

The man's hand reached toward Yvette's clothes.

"Stop!"

Howard's eyes blazed red as he roared.

"I choose her!"

His eyes squeezed shut as he pointed at Yvette.

Bitterness flooded through me. I should have known.

"Very good, Mr. Delgado. Come collect her yourself."

The call ended. They dragged Yvette away.

Then the man tore the rest of my hospital gown to shreds.

While Howard retrieved Yvette from the next room, the man took what he wanted from me.

Through the thin walls, I heard her voice—coy, simpering.

"Howard, I was so scared. Thank god you chose me. I love you so much..."

"It's alright. You're not hurt, that's what matters. This is my fault—I made enemies, and they came after you."

They cooed at each other like newlyweds.

Not a single word about me.

I don't know where I found the strength, but I screamed toward the door.

"Howard... save me..."

My voice tangled with the sounds of what was being done to me.

The flirting outside went silent.

But no one answered.

The engine roared to life. The sound faded into the distance.

My heart plummeted into an abyss.

Blood filled my mouth. I bit down harder, repeating the words like a mantra:

Howard Delgado, what you've done to me today—I will repay you a thousandfold.

I lost track of time.

When the sky began to lighten, the man finally tired. He dressed himself, glancing back at me with something like pity.

"You know, you used to be somebody's princess. Why'd you have to pick a heartless bastard like him?"

He left, satisfied.

I swallowed my nausea, gathered the shredded remains of my gown, and stumbled out of that hell.

But when I pushed open the door, I realized—

The real hell was waiting outside.

A sea of reporters had surrounded the abandoned factory.

The moment I stepped out, hundreds of cameras and microphones thrust into my face.

I snapped back to reality and looked down at myself.

Filth and dried blood caked every inch of my body. My exposed neck and collarbones were covered in bite marks—dark, ugly bruises where teeth had broken skin.

I yanked the warehouse door open, desperate to retreat inside, but a hand shot out from nowhere and dragged me into the center of the crowd.

"Mrs. Delgado! Care to explain why you're here in such a... disheveled state? Were you having an affair?"

"Mrs. Delgado! How do you think your devoted husband will feel about this?"

"Mrs. Delgado—if you don't mind us asking—who's the man you've been sleeping with? From the looks of it, you two had quite the wild night..."

Raucous laughter erupted from the crowd.

Then came the insults, crashing over me like waves.

"Shameless!"

"Slut!"

"Whore!"

A heavyset female reporter hurled her camera aside and charged at me. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head against the wall.

Once. Twice. Again.

I slid down the rough brick, my vision swimming. Then the kicks came—too many to count, from every direction.

This is how I die, I thought. Right here. Today.

But then a familiar roar cut through the chaos.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Get out of here—NOW!"

Howard appeared like clockwork, parting the crowd like some avenging hero swooping in to save me.

What a devoted husband.

He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the car, murmuring apologies against my hair the entire way. After what that man had put me through all night, I couldn't fight the exhaustion. My eyes drifted shut.

Somewhere between sleep and waking, voices filtered through.

"Howard, I thought last time was supposed to be the last time. Why'd you have me call those reporters again? Those photos are gonna be all over the internet within the hour. How's she supposed to live after this...?"

"Enough."

Howard pulled my coat higher over my shoulders, his voice rough.

"I don't want to do this either. But Yvette's upset about being tied up during the kidnapping. I couldn't marry her eight years ago—the least I can do is consider her feelings now."

"But what does her being upset have to do with Mia...?"

"Evan. Do this one last thing for me, and I swear I'll never hurt Mia again."

"What is it?"

"Go to the hospital. Pull Wilfred's plug."

"Are you insane?! Wilfred is the only family she has left! He's in that coma because he saved your life—why would you—"

"Yvette promised. This is the last time."

A pause. Then Howard's voice again, soft as poison:

"Wilfred's been lying there for years. He's no different from a corpse. Let his death buy Mia peace for the rest of her life."

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted copper.

Howard Delgado wasn't human. He was a monster wearing skin.

Minutes later, a phone shattered the silence.

Evan answered through the car's speaker system. A man's panicked voice crackled through:

"Howard! One of my guys just reported in—Old Mr. Gilbert's private jet is moving!"

"What?!"

Howard's composure cracked. His voice dropped to a snarl.

"That's impossible!"

His violent jolt startled me "awake."

Instantly, he shot Evan a look. The call went dead.

"You're up?"

Howard's hand was gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. But his eyes were searching. Calculating.

"Mia... I remember your father had a private jet registered under his name before he passed." His tone was casual. Almost tender. "I'd like to use it."

"I sold it ages ago."

My answer made Howard visibly relax. Even the driver's shoulders dropped with relief.

"Mia, let me take you to the hospital for a checkup. Don't worry—I've already made all the arrangements..."

Howard dropped me at the hospital entrance, then left under the barrage of Yvette's incessant calls.

I dragged my exhausted body to my brother's ward. Only when I found the note tucked beneath his mattress did the tension finally drain from my chest.

The handwriting was unmistakably my father's—bold, decisive strokes:

"Mia, I've taken Wilfred somewhere safe. After tomorrow, you'll begin a new life too."

I had just slipped the note into my pocket when my phone rang.

I hesitated for a few seconds before answering.

Yvette's voice floated through, dripping with smug amusement.

"Dear sister," she cooed, "Howard's proposing to me tomorrow on the island he bought me. I heard your wedding was rather... modest. Why not come see how it's really done?"

A pause. "Unless you're too afraid to show up—"

"I'll be there."

Silence on the other end. Then a sharp laugh crackled through.

"Perfect. I'll be waiting."

The next morning, I followed the coordinates Yvette had sent and stepped onto the island.

My phone buzzed almost immediately. Howard.

His voice was honey-smooth, tender as always. "Mia, I'll be stuck at the office all day—probably won't be home until tomorrow morning. I'll bring you something nice when I get back."

I watched him in the distance, kneeling to adjust the train of Yvette's gown.

A smile tugged at my lips.

"That's sweet," I said softly. "But we might see each other sooner than you think. I have a gift for you too."

I saw his body stiffen—just for a heartbeat.

Then his voice returned, perfectly composed. "I can't wait, sweetheart."

The line went dead.

I took my time surveying the spectacle before me.

Half of Kingston City's elite had been summoned to witness this moment. Every detail had been orchestrated with painstaking care—the flowers, the lighting, the sweeping ocean backdrop.

This proposal wasn't just real. It was everything.

The old bitterness stirred.

When we got married, Howard said he despised "empty ceremonies." He said as a public figure, he couldn't afford extravagance. So our wedding had been a quiet dinner with a handful of friends.

Nothing more.

But for Yvette? He'd moved heaven and earth.

"Yvette... will you marry me?"

Howard's low, elated voice cut through my thoughts.

He was already on one knee, sliding the ring onto her finger. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

Yvette's cheeks flushed pink. She opened her mouth to answer—

And then Howard's personal assistant came barreling through the crowd, dropping to his knees with a heavy thud.

Before Howard could demand an explanation, the man stammered out:

"Mr. Delgado—it's Old Mr. Gilbert—he's alive!"