Three days later, at Grandion Night Club.

I called Lucille and asked her to come get me. She yelled over the phone, "I'm busy! I'll send someone. Just wait there."

Barely two minutes later, a good-looking guy in a half-buttoned shirt that barely covered his chest came down the stairs and tugged at my sleeve. "Miss Reynolds, Miss Green's in a private room on the third floor. I'll take you up."

He led me to a room tucked in the corner of the third floor, decorated like some over-the-top pink princess fantasy. The moment Lucille saw me, she shot the guy a look. He stepped up like he was about to wrap me in his arms.

I dodged him easily and marched straight over to pinch Lucille's ear. "You little witch-how dare you call a male escort?"

Lucille may be from one of those influential political families, but she took a hard left early on. The more rebellious, the more she liked it.

She was about to crack another silly grin when I smacked her bare thigh under that tiny skirt of hers. "Didn't you say you had something big to tell me? Spit it out!"

She pouted and pulled out her phone, flipping open her gallery. "Look."

There were a few blurry shots in low light, but even with the poor quality, it was clear-a woman getting up close and personal with some guy in ways that were definitely scandalous.

I zoomed in on the faces. No matter the angle, that woman was unmistakably my dear "little sister" who's about to get engaged-Isabella.

I yanked Lucille into a hug and planted two big wet kisses on her cheeks. I'd been scratching my head trying to find a crack in Vivian' armor-and now I had a whole photo album of dirt. Just one pic would be enough to tear Isabella's reputation to shreds in Southveil. No way the Sterlings would go through with the engagement after this.

Game over for their little dream scenario.

Lucille shoved me away and yanked off the guy's shirt to wipe her face. "Seriously, you're that happy already? Come on, spill-what's the plan?"

I glanced at the champagne Lucille just used to "serve" the male escort, took a sip, and raised the glass toward the guy. "You've got the looks-and that body's not bad either."

Lucille pulled him onto the couch and pinched his cheek, smirking. "Of course. Kevin's the hottest thing here at Grandion. He told me Isabella tried to book him a few times... only turned her down 'cause he didn't want to step on my toes."

"What, she comes here often?"

Kevin nodded beside us. "Yeah, lately it's been pretty regular. She brings friends too."

"For real?" I scoffed. "Didn't think that little tramp was such a thirsty one. If Theodore ends up marrying her, that guy's really pulling the short straw."

I grinned wider. "Let's make sure that never happens."

Lucille's eyes lit up like she just caught a whiff of something spicy. "What are you thinking?"

I gave her a look full of meaning. "She's been drooling over Kevin for a while now, hasn't she? So as her loving big sis... I'll help make her dream come true."

Lucille burst out laughing, tossed a black card from her purse onto the table, and waved at Kevin. "Name your price. Just make sure Isabella enjoys herself thoroughly. There's more than enough in it for you if it works."

Kevin took the card, flashing his pearly whites. "Leave it to me, Miss Green."

Lucille and I were riding the high, cracked open two bottles of fancy champagne and red wine, and went all in. It took everything I had to haul her drunk self to the door, flag a ride and send her home.

Just when I thought I could finally leave, I realized I forgot my bag. Thank god Lucille had handed me Kevin's card earlier. I called him and asked him to drop it off at the front desk. I patted his shoulder and quietly reminded him of our little plan, he just nodded with a grin, giving me the go-ahead to bounce.

I turned around, ready to head out myself, and barely took two steps before smacking straight into what felt like a human wall.

Rubbing my forehead, I looked up-one glance at that annoyingly handsome face and whatever curse words I had lined up instantly died in my throat.

Theodore.

This was only the second time I'd seen him since that day, and yep, that ice block of a face still had that blatant look of disgust painted all over it. His eyes drifted past me, locking on the glowing Grandion Night sign behind me, and his lips curled up with a mocking smirk. "Daddy's little princess, huh? Really living up to the name."

I bit my lip, giving him a glare that could burn holes. "Well if I'm a joke, you must be the punchline. What brings Mr. Sterling to such fine establishments this late, huh? Don't pretend it's just a coincidence."

Seriously? Trying to throw shade at me? As if I couldn't smell the booze and the overwhelming stench of cheap perfume wafting off him.

He twitched his lip but said nothing. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flickered with something strange-might've been the lighting or something else, but there was definitely something off.

I let out a snort and brushed past him, just wanting to be done with the night.

But before I could get far, a sudden grip wrapped around me, and the next second, I was being tossed over his shoulder like a damn sack. He powered toward a sleek black Spyker, jammed the door open, and shoved me inside without a shred of care.

My head hit the seat and I saw stars, and before I could react, his massive frame was already on top of me, pinning down my flailing arms and legs.

His face closed in, hot breath sweeping across mine. In the dim lighting, I caught sight of the flushed color on his cheeks, his half-unbuttoned shirt exposing toned abs, sweat glistening along that caramel skin-dangerously tempting.

It hit me then-his reaction looked way too familiar. Just like the night I was drugged.

I cautiously called out, "Theodore? You okay?"

Not a word from him. Instead, he suddenly crashed his lips against mine, full of aggression and desperation. Hell if I knew how long he'd been bottling that up, but he bit right through his tongue and our mouths filled with the taste of blood.

The kiss was rough, unhinged. A breeze drifted in from the half-open window. I shoved at him with all I had and slapped him across the face.

He jerked his head, then grabbed my jaw in a vice grip, squeezing hard. My vision blurred as tears started falling uncontrollably.

He reached over and rolled the window up tight, then looked down at me, cold and full of scorn. "Natalie, you've got the guts to hook up with a damn call boy, but suddenly worried about people seeing this? Cut the act, it's pathetic."

"If you're that disgusted, then just let go! Go in and find yourself some working girl at the front desk to deal with whatever this is. Not enough? Hell, I'll even book you a room if you want, take your sweet time..."

Before I could finish, he tightened his grip even more. My heart pounded as I stared at him wide-eyed. "What are you trying to do?! Let me go!"

I fought with everything in me, clashing with his brute force. More than once I slammed into the car window, the sound drawing some glances from the street.

While stealing kisses from me, he whispered threateningly in my ear with that raspy, alluring voice, "You move again and I'll toss you out. I mean it."

By then, my clothes were barely hanging on, ripped beyond recognition. I was practically naked, and the street outside-full of people...

I pressed my lips together, my voice barely there. "Why?"

He gave a cruel, twisted smile. "Why? I saved you once. This is payback. Just blowing off steam."

And just like that, his hand moved to undo his belt...

He pried my legs apart and slammed forward hard. The movement was rough-fast and forceful-and it wasn't long before a raspy groan escaped him.

It felt like pure torture. He drove me to the edge for hours, and I could only grit my teeth and hold on. Theodore, I swear one day I'll make sure you feel every ounce of this humiliation I suffered tonight.

It wasn't until the street was deathly quiet and the night completely drowned the city that he finally let me go. Zipping up his pants, he looked refreshed, almost smug, while I lay there in a mess-drained and crumpled like I'd fallen apart.

He tossed his suit jacket over me like it was a courtesy, then drove me straight to the gates of the Reynolds residence. When the security guard saw us, he paused-staring without a word.

Theodore pulled three hundred bucks from his wallet and shoved it into my hand, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"For the clothes," he said, "If it's not enough, call the Sterlings. My mother would be thrilled to host you. Feel free to name your price."

His car sped off down the road with a roar and vanished into the night.

I shot a sharp glare at the security guard who was gawking at my exposed legs, forcing myself to stand tall and act like I was above it all, even though every step was a struggle on my way back to the house.

By that time, it was past 2 a.m. Everyone at home was already asleep. I went straight to my room, wrapped my arms around a photo of my foster mom, cried into the silence, and eventually fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, the sound of someone pounding on my door startled me awake. The banging was wild, like they meant to knock the whole door down. I dragged myself up and opened it, only to be met with Isabella's tear-streaked face glaring at me.

She scanned me from top to bottom before screaming, "Natalie! You vile bitch!"

Before I could react, she shoved me to the floor. The jacket slipped open, revealing my torn clothes underneath-my skin now a map of bruises and glaring red marks.

Isabella dashed at me, yanking at my hair with everything she had. I finally snapped out of it and fought back, and that's when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway-Vivian and Hubert appeared at the same time.

Without even asking what the hell was happening, Hubert charged up and slapped me across the face-hard. My cheek instantly swelled, the pain a burning sting that made my eyes water.

"Natalie, even if you hate me, Isabella is your sister! How could you do something so disgusting?!" Vivian clutched Isabella with trembling arms, sobbing like I was some monster, while Hubert pointed at me, red with fury.

"You've got no shame at all! He's your sister's fiancé! Are you really so bitter that you can't stand to see her happy?"

I took a shaky breath, spat out the blood pooling in my mouth, and glaring at Vivian's fake-innocent, pitiful act, I let out a cold laugh.

"Can't stand to see her happy? She should be thanking me. If it weren't for me, Theodore wouldn't have called. You'd never have gotten the chance to meddle and set her up with him. If Madame Sterling and Mr. Sterling hadn't pressured him, do you really think he'd give her a second look? Keep dreaming."

Back then I was dumb enough to try to get back at him by scrawling Vivian's number on the back of that three-hundred-dollar 'thank you' note. That backfired perfectly, giving her the perfect opening to work behind my back.

Her schemes made Madame Sterling think Isabella was the one involved with Theodore. And considering how powerful the Sterlings are in Southveil, Hubert jumped at the chance to push the engagement.

With both Vivian's plotting and public opinion adding fuel to the fire, the Sterlings finally confirmed the engagement.

Mr. Sterling Sr. had always favored his most capable grandson, promising that as long as he produced a great-grandchild soon, he'd consider naming him the heir to the Sterling Group.

With such a massive fortune dangling in front of him, Theodore didn't care who he married. The person didn't matter-only the result did.

And he never denied nor clarified anything, for a very simple reason-it was all just part of his revenge on me.

That day he brought his mother to the Reynolds household, it became crystal clear that I was no longer welcome there. I wasn't about to let Vivian and Isabella pull off their scheme so easily. Theodore probably figured he could even use me to teach them a lesson.

In a way, I kind of handed Isabella the engagement on a silver platter.

Vivian's face froze. "What nonsense are you spouting?"

"Swear on your conscience if you dare."

"That's enough!" Hubert was livid, his face darkening as he pointed at me and roared, "Get out! I don't have a disgrace like you for a daughter!"

I let out a low chuckle, grabbed the photo of my late adoptive mother from the nightstand and turned to leave. Hubert called after me, his voice cold and sharp, "Don't show your face at the Reynolds–Sterling engagement. If you mess this up, I guarantee you'll regret it."

Seriously, with a tone like that, it didn't sound like a father talking to his daughter. I didn't bother responding and just walked away.

I moved into a rental apartment and never stepped foot in the Reynolds house again. I didn't tell Grandpa anything, and Hubert wasn't dumb-he must've kept the news of me leaving completely under wraps.

After work today, I was planning to meet Lucille. But my manager, Oliver Hatcher, suddenly stopped me and insisted I go with him to meet a client and finalize a deal. He promised me a generous commission if it went through.

I texted Lucille to wait for me at the restaurant we were heading to. I figured I'd join her as soon as the contract was signed.

We went to a fancy lounge that had a private room with a Japanese-style setup. Oliver ordered food and drinks, then sat on the tatami with me while we waited.

I couldn't help but think this client sure knew how to make an entrance. If Oliver weren't with me, I'd be pretty nervous, no lie.

He gave me a casual smile and poured me a drink. "Here, have a sip. Patience is part of being in sales, y'know. Clients like this one-nothing new."

I took the glass and glanced at him, a bit hesitant. Oliver might look young for his mid-thirties, but in our department, he was known for being all smiles on the outside and ruthless behind the scenes. I've caught heat from him plenty over the past two years. But today, his attitude felt weirdly chill-too nice, honestly.

He threw me a sideways look. "What? Think I slipped something in your drink?"

I mentally rolled my eyes, but to save face, I took a couple sips and set the glass down. He didn't say anything more and just drank by himself.

That put me at ease, at least for the moment.

A while later, he stepped out to take a call. When he came back, he was with a man in a suit. I didn't recognize the figure at first, but as soon as he sat down, my stomach dropped.

Round face, greasy combover, chunky arms and a belly like a barrel. He sat down and gave me a slow once-over, then patted Oliver on the shoulder. "Nicely done."

It was Graham Sullivan-the same guy Vivian tricked me into meeting last time. Rumors painted him as some high-flying thirty-something CEO with a billion-dollar company.

In reality? Total scam. Seeing him in person exposed all the lies. Vivian was ruthless-handing me over to a sleaze like him? She really wanted to ruin me.

Sensing something was off, I shot Oliver a serious look. "Mr. Hatcher, what's going on here?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he poured me another drink, lips curled in a cold sneer. "Last time our dinner had to be cut short because you weren't feeling well, Miss Reynolds. Now that we're working on this joint project, I don't feel comfortable letting someone else handle it. I came here tonight to talk business with you-surely you won't leave me hanging, right?"

Oliver chuckled obsequiously on the side, wringing his hands. "Oh no, Mr. Sullivan, we're the lucky ones. It's a privilege to work with someone like you."

Graham clearly enjoyed the flattery.

I stayed silent, he cut me a glance. Oliver immediately grabbed a bottle of alcohol and handed it to me. "Natalie, come on. Toast Mr. Sullivan, make it up to him."

I shot him a glare-what a disgusting jerk. Oliver leaned close and hissed in my ear, "If you make Mr. Sullivan happy tonight, there'll be rewards in it for you. But if you pull any stunts... Southveil's not that big-you sure you wanna risk your career over this?"

Gritting my teeth, I took the bottle and got up to pour Sullivan a drink. But just as I turned back, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. I struggled hard, spilling wine all over the table, but he just wouldn't let go.

Then a sound came from the door-someone pushed it open. Oliver flashed a quick grin at Sullivan. "Gotta take a call, I'll be right back," and exited.

I was livid. Sullivan abruptly let go, and I stumbled back, red wine drenching my white blouse. The fabric clung to me, clearly showing my undergarments. Sullivan let out a perverse laugh and gulped down another glass.

I watched him down his drink like water and quickly formed a plan. Settling back into my seat, I covered my chest with one hand and poured him more wine with the other. "Mr. Sullivan, last time was my bad. Please don't take it personally. Let's not let this mess up our companies' partnership."

But Graham wasn't fooled. His bloated hands knocked the glass aside, and he leaned in, grabbing my face. The stench of alcohol on his breath made me gag, but I forced myself to stay still. If he really did anything to me tonight, I'd rather be dead than live with it.

"Let me go..."

He bellowed out a laugh, and then I heard him unbuckling his pants. Terrified, I spun to run, but he yanked me back by the ankle and pinned me under his weight. "You little bitch, I've forked over thirty grand to your adopted mom. Think I'll let you off easy again?"

He grabbed my blouse and started tearing. Most of my chest was exposed, the cold air stinging against my skin. In the chaos, my hand found the wine bottle that had fallen. Without a second thought, I raised it and smashed it hard against the back of his head.

"Ahhh!"

He screamed and clutched his skull, staggering off me. I scrambled backward across the floor, made a dash for the door, threw it open, and ran out. Behind me, Graham cursed as he stumbled after me.

Just then, someone appeared in the hallway. Desperate, I flung off Graham's hand and ran like my life depended on it, latching onto the man with wild eyes. "Please... please help me!"

Graham came charging over and tried to drag me back. "You slut! Think you can run? I'm not letting you get away this time!"

I shut my eyes in despair, thinking it was all over-when a gust of wind brushed past my ear out of nowhere, followed by Graham's painful grunt. The next second, I was yanked into an uncomfortably cold embrace.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Graham sprawled on the ground, unable to get up. Then I looked up and met a pair of icy, sharp eyes.

Theodore. Again.

His voice came out low and threatening, and his gaze briefly swept across my exposed skin before narrowing even more. His stare was like ice needles pricking my scalp.

Graham pushed himself up with a hand, wiping the blood off his lip with the other. "Who the heck are you, kid? Got a death wish messing with my business?"

Theodore stepped forward and placed himself between us. His eyes stayed locked on Graham. "Mr. Sullivan."

Graham's face froze the moment he finally got a good look at him. He was stunned. Then his eyes flicked back to me, and he scowled like he'd swallowed a lemon whole. "Natalie, not bad. You really know how to pick 'em. Fine, I'll let it go this once. But don't think this is the end of it."

He shot me a death glare and stormed off, one hand over his head.

I clenched my fists. Vivian, you better be ready. I'm coming for you after tonight.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to pull myself together, turned, and was about to leave when someone grabbed my wrist from behind. Theodore had stepped closer, crowding into my space until my back hit the sliding door behind me. There was nowhere to run.

"Use me and just walk away like nothing happened?"

"Must be nice, huh? Even dare to play me. Done using me, now tossing me aside?"

I kept my eyes lowered, voice shaky. "That's not it."

"Not it?" His laugh was cold and sharp. He didn't look away for even a second. When I ducked my head lower, he suddenly grabbed my chin with his icy fingers and forced me to look at him.

"Girls like you? I don't give a damn about. So don't push your luck. You won't like where that leads."

His words cut way deeper than whatever Graham had planned. It was like someone stuck a needle right into my heart-sharp, sudden, and brutal.

I bit down hard just to keep from crying, but my voice caught in my throat.

Then his gaze flicked, and he noticed my hands-pressed against the door under his grip. His eyes hesitated when he saw the blood.

I'd scraped myself on some shards of glass trying to get away earlier. Cuts stung across my palms and wrists. Blood had started to trickle again, dark against my skin.

We stared at each other-me, biting back tears; him, stunned speechless. The room held its breath with us. But I knew I couldn't hold out much longer.

A quiet sob escaped me.

Theodore froze, eyes locked on mine. Then, after a long pause, he let go of my wrists, peeled off his suit jacket, and tossed it at me without a word. He glared at me one last time before turning on his heel and stalking off down the hallway.

Only when his back vanished around the corner did my knees finally give. I slumped to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

After a while, when the crying dulled into numbness, I stared at the jacket he'd thrown. I had nothing else, so I reluctantly slipped it on and dragged myself out of the restaurant, eyes swollen, clothes messed up, head full of chaos.

I opted for the bus. In this state, I didn't want to risk it with a cab. My reflection in the window-red eyes, crumpled clothes-turned heads even at the back of the bus. A few older ladies kept glancing my way, whispering with judgment written all over their faces.

But I'd take gossip over possibly ending up in some creepy driver's trunk any day.