Calista POV

The force of the slap sent me stumbling. I hit the polished marble floor of the hotel lobby, the cold shock momentarily clearing my head. My cheek burned, a fiery imprint of a hand.

"You bitch!" Collin's face was contorted with rage, his phone shoved inches from my eyes. On the screen, a blurry video played-too dark to make out details, but the sounds were unmistakable. A couple, intimately entwined. Jaime' s unmistakable giggle, Collin' s low growl. My humiliation, broadcast for the world to see.

"How dare you leak this?!" he roared, his foot connecting with my side. A searing pain shot through me. I gasped, struggling to catch my breath.

"I didn't..." I rasped, pushing myself up on my elbows, my cheek throbbing, the taste of blood in my mouth. "I wouldn't."

Before I could finish, another sharp crack echoed in the lobby. Jaime. She stood over me, her face a mask of fury, her hand still raised from striking me. My head snapped back, hitting the floor with a dull thud. My lip split, a thin line of crimson tracing down my chin.

"You jealous hag!" Jaime shrieked, her foot lashing out. It connected with my stomach, a brutal, sickening impact. A gasp escaped my lips, but it was cut short by another kick, and another. "You tried to ruin me! You tried to expose us!"

A sharp, stabbing pain erupted deep within my abdomen. It was different from the superficial pain of the kicks, a deep, twisting agony that made me double over. I could feel something warm and wet spreading beneath me.

"Madam Calista is bleeding!" Maria, our maid, screamed from somewhere nearby, her voice laced with terror.

Collin, who had watched Jaime's assault with a detached, almost pleased expression, flinched. His eyes widened slightly. He took a hesitant step towards me, a flicker of something that looked like guilt, or perhaps just panic, crossing his face.

"It's just her period, Collin!" Jaime shrieked, clinging to his arm, her voice deliberately loud. "She's always so dramatic about it! She probably just got her period, and now she's trying to make you feel bad. Remember what you promised me? That you'd always protect me?"

Collin stopped, his gaze falling from my blood-soaked dress to Jaime's tear-streaked face. He looked at me again, then away. The flicker of guilt vanished, replaced by a cold indifference. He was a puppet, and Jaime held the strings.

"I'll... I'll take care of the online rumors," he muttered, his voice strained. "But you shouldn't have done that, Jaime."

"I have nothing left, Collin!" Jaime wailed, suddenly pulling a small, silver penknife from her pocket. She held it to her wrist, her hand trembling theatrically. "She ruined everything! My reputation! My future! My honor! I gave you everything, Collin! My youth, my innocence! And now, because of her, I'm nothing!" She sobbed, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "I can't live like this! If I die, I hope I find you in the next life, Collin! Then we can finally be together!"

My eyes, already swimming with pain, watched as Collin's face softened. Fool. She was playing him like a fiddle.

A sudden, sharp scream tore from Jaime's throat. Not a wail of despair, but a shriek of pain. A thin line of blood appeared on her wrist. She hadn't cut herself deeply, but it was enough to make Collin's eyes go wide with horror.

"Jaime!" he cried, rushing forward, cradling her in his arms. He glared at me, his eyes blazing with a renewed fury. "Look what you've done to her!"

He stumbled over my prostrate form in the dim light of the lobby, not even noticing he'd kicked me again. He didn't look back. Just scooped Jaime into his arms and started barking orders at his security detail.

"Find whoever leaked that video! Erase every last trace of it!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the silent lobby. "And as for her..." His eyes, cold and venomous, landed on me. "She'll pay for this. She'll pay for everything."

He stormed out, Jaime sobbing dramatically in his arms, leaving me bleeding and broken on the cold marble floor.

"Maria," I choked, reaching out a trembling hand. The pain was unbearable now, a fire consuming me from the inside out. "Help me, please."

Maria, rooted to the spot, shook her head, her face pale with fear. "I... I can't, Madam Calista. Mr. Fields said... he said I'm not to touch you."

I tried to call Collin. My phone, still clutched in my hand, showed his number. Ring. Ring. Busy. I tried again. Ring. Ring. Voicemail. Again. Again.

Desperate, I tried one last time. It rang once, twice, then clicked. Disconnected. He hung up.

The world began to spin faster, the edges of my vision blurring. The pain in my stomach intensified, a suffocating grip. My head lolled to the side. I could hear Maria's frantic whispers, but her words were like distant echoes. The floor felt cold against my bleeding cheek.

Then, darkness. Just before it consumed me entirely, I felt a strong pair of arms scoop me up. A familiar scent, not Collin's cologne, but something earthy, safe. A whisper in my ear, too faint to understand. Then, nothing.

Collin, speeding away from the hotel, gripped the steering wheel, his jaw tight. He was seething, but not at Jaime. No, he was furious at whoever had dared to expose his carefully constructed facade. His phone buzzed, a quick message from his head of security. "Sir, the online video has been contained, but we've found a trail. It seems to originate from an email address linked to Calista's old work accounts."

A cold dread settled in his gut. Calista. He had to be sure. He called his assistant. "Did you manage to get those funds for Calista's mother's treatment reversed?"

"Yes, Mr. Fields," his assistant replied, her voice crisp. "The hospital confirmed the transfer was successfully recalled."

Collin felt a surge of righteous indignation. So, she was trying to blackmail him. This was her revenge. He would make her regret it.

His phone rang again. It was his secretary, her voice frantic. "Mr. Fields! The stock! Your company shares are plummeting! It's a massive sell-off!"

Collin slammed on the brakes, the sudden stop jarring Jaime, who was still sniffling dramatically in the passenger seat. His world, so meticulously built, was suddenly crumbling.

Calista POV

I woke to the sterile scent of antiseptic, the dull hum of hospital equipment. My eyelids felt heavy, glued shut. When I finally forced them open, the first thing I saw was Collin. He sat by my bedside, his hair disheveled, a haunted look in his eyes. He looked… almost human.

A flicker of something I hadn't seen in a long time-regret, perhaps-crossed his face. He reached out, taking my hand. His touch was cold.

"Calista," he whispered, his voice hoarse, raw. "You're awake."

I tried to pull my hand away, but my body felt heavy, weak.

"The baby," he said, his voice barely audible. "It's… it's gone. The doctors, they couldn't save it."

The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. Baby? My baby? I hadn't even known. A wave of nausea, cold and consuming, washed over me. No wonder the pain had been so intense. No wonder.

My eyes burned, but no tears came. My body felt numb.

"Jaime… she's pregnant too," Collin continued, his gaze fixed on the hospital linoleum. "We're going to raise our child together. I thought… maybe you could understand."

A sudden surge of strength, fueled by a primal fury, coursed through me. I yanked my hand away from his, the movement sharp and violent. "What did you say?" My voice was a broken whisper, laced with disbelief.

He flinched, refusing to meet my gaze. "I said… Jaime is pregnant. We're going to have a baby." He still wouldn't look at me.

Then, the second blow. "The doctors also said… your uterus. It's… severely damaged. You can't have children anymore, Calista. Not ever."

The world went silent. My own breathing sounded impossibly loud in my ears. No more children. The words ricocheted around my skull, a brutal, undeniable truth. My body started to tremble uncontrollably, a tremor that originated deep within my bones and shook me to my core. Tears, hot and uncontrollable, finally streamed down my face, blurring Collin's pathetic, averted form.

He stood there, helpless, watching me shatter.

Just then, his phone rang, a jarring, insistent trill in the silence.

"It's... it's the office," he stammered, pulling it out. "I really should take this."

I cut him off, my voice raw. "Leave."

He hesitated, placing a wilting bouquet of roses on my bedside table. "I'll be back, Calista. As soon as I can. We'll talk."

Then he was gone, his hurried footsteps echoing down the hall.

No sooner had the door closed than it opened again. Jaime. She sashayed in, a triumphant smirk on her face, a plastic container of sushi in her hand.

"Oh, look who's awake," she purred, her eyes glittering with malicious glee. "Collin just bought me these. He said I should eat well for our baby." She took a bite, chewing slowly, deliberately. "He even threw away those awful flowers you had. Said they were trash."

My gaze fell on the bouquet, now dumped unceremoniously in the wastebin.

"You know," she continued, her voice syrupy sweet, "the doctors showed Collin the ultrasound. Our baby looked so perfect. So tiny. Not like... well, not like whatever you were carrying. Collin said it was for the best, you know. A blessing in disguise. Apparently, it was... deformed."

My blood ran cold. The words were a venomous snake, coiling around my heart.

"And guess what else?" she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, but her eyes held a chilling triumph. "That useless organ of yours? The doctor said it was completely ruined. So ruined, they had to remove it. But good news for me! Collin said they could transplant it. For my baby. So I can carry our child, with your womb."

A guttural cry tore from my throat. My hand shot out, fueled by a rage so fierce, so primal, it shocked even me. The sound of my palm connecting with her cheek was sickeningly loud.

Calista POV

Jaime stumbled backward, her hand flying to her reddened cheek. But instead of crying out, a chilling smile spread across her face. It wasn't a smile of pain, but of pure, unadulterated malice. She reached into the large designer bag slung over her shoulder, pulling out a small, ornate urn.

My heart slammed against my ribs. The world narrowed to that single, porcelain jar. My mother's ashes.

"My mother!" I gasped, a cold dread seizing me. "Give it back, Jaime! Please!" My voice was raw, pleading, a sound I hadn't made in what felt like forever.

"Oh, this?" she cooed, twirling the urn playfully in her hand. "Collin said you wouldn't need it anymore. He said you were leaving, remember? London? And who needs old dust when you're starting a new life?"

I lunged, a desperate, animalistic cry escaping my lips. But my body was weak, ravaged by the recent trauma. Jaime easily sidestepped me, extending her foot. I tripped, falling hard onto the floor, the impact sending a fresh wave of pain through my still-healing body.

She laughed, a harsh, grating sound. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed the urn into the air.

Time seemed to slow. The porcelain gleamed under the harsh hospital lights. It arced, turning slowly, then plummeted towards the ground.

A sickening CRACK.

The urn shattered into a thousand pieces, a cloud of fine, grey dust rising into the air. My mother. Scattered. Desecrated.

"NO!" My scream tore through the sterile air, a guttural sound of pure agony. I scrabbled on the floor, trying to gather the dust, the fragments, but it was useless. It sifted through my trembling fingers, mixing with the dust and grime of the hospital floor.

Jaime stood over me, her laughter echoing in the small room. "Look at you, pathetic! Just like your mother, begging for scraps!"

Something snapped inside me. The last thread of my sanity, frayed and thin, finally broke. A roaring fire ignited in my veins, consuming the pain, the grief, everything but a blinding, all-encompassing rage.

I lunged at her again, this time with a strength I didn't know I possessed. My hands found her throat, my fingers digging in, desperate to silence her, to choke the life out of her.

"I'll kill you!" I shrieked, my voice distorted, unrecognizable even to myself. "You destroyed everything! My mother! My baby! I'll kill you!"

Jaime clawed at my hands, her eyes wide with sudden fear. But then, with a surprising surge of force, she pushed me backward. My weak body gave way, and I fell again, my head hitting the floor with a jarring impact.

The door burst open. Collin. He stood there, his eyes still wide with concern for Jaime, but then they landed on me, on the shattered urn, on the grey dust littering the floor.

Jaime, quick as a viper, burst into tears. "Collin! She attacked me! She tried to make me eat... eat that powdery stuff!" She pointed a trembling finger at the scattered ashes. "She said it was good for my baby! She's crazy!"

Collin rushed to her, pulling her into his arms. His gaze, cold and hard, met mine.

"You tried to force her to eat that?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing.

"It's just dust," Jaime sobbed, clinging to him. "But what if it's poisoned? What if she wanted to harm our baby?" She looked up at Collin, her eyes wide and innocent. "Maybe we should test it... on a dog. Just to be safe, Collin."

A tremor went through Collin. His eyes, for a brief moment, flickered with doubt. He looked from Jaime's terrified face to my own, grim and tear-streaked.

Jaime let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her stomach. "Oh! My stomach! The baby! It hurts!"

That was all it took. Collin's face hardened. All doubt vanished. "Get a dog in here!" he roared, his voice echoing down the hall. "Now!"

A moment later, two burly security guards entered, one of them pulling a snarling, black Doberman on a leash. They held me down, my struggles futile against their combined strength. I watched, helpless, as Collin pointed to the scattered ashes. The Doberman, sniffing aggressively, began to lap at the grey powder.

"NO!" I screamed, a raw, primal howl of anguish. "STOP IT! My mother! Don't let him do this! Collin, please!"

He ignored me. His eyes were fixed on the dog, then on Jaime, who was now smiling through her fake tears.

Just then, Jaime's phone, clutched in her hand, suddenly lit up. A notification. Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh my god! Collin! The video! It's everywhere again! And they're saying... they're saying it's you! That you're a monster!" She screamed, throwing her phone at him. "This is her fault! She leaked it! She's trying to ruin you!"

Collin snatched the phone, his face paling as he saw the trending headlines, the viral videos. His own intimate moments, now broadcast to the world.

"Who did this?!" he bellowed, his gaze sweeping over the guards, then landing on me.

"Sir," one of the guards stammered, pulling out his own phone. "I just got a report. The IP address... it's coming from Calista's personal network. Her old cell phone."

Collin's eyes, already burning with rage, fixed on me. He strode over, grabbing my chin, his fingers digging in painfully. "You thought you could destroy me, didn't you? You thought you could get away with this?"

I stared at him, then let out a choked, hysterical laugh. It started low, a broken sound, then escalated into full-blown madness. The pain, the grief, the betrayal-it all converged into this single, terrifying release. "Yes!" I screamed, my voice raw. "Yes, I did! And I hope it destroys you! I hope you lose everything! I hope you rot in hell, you and that bitch!"

His grip tightened, his nails digging into my flesh. "You'll regret this, Calista. You'll regret every single word." He shoved me away, my head hitting the wall. "Take her! Take her to the underground facility! Put her in the cage! And then... get her online. Let the dark web have her. Let them teach her what real pain is. Broadcast it. Live."

My world went black. The last thing I heard was his cold, chilling command, "Make sure she suffers."

I was thrown into a cold, metal cage. Cameras were everywhere, their red eyes blinking. A man in a grotesque mask entered, his movements slow, deliberate. He started to laugh, a chilling, guttural sound. Then he lunged. The pain was beyond anything I had ever known. A brutal symphony of fists and kicks, leaving me gasping for air, raw and broken. I was a puppet on strings, my body no longer my own. Every nerve ending screamed. I was barely conscious, clinging to the last sliver of life.

Just as the darkness threatened to consume me entirely, a sudden, deafening BANG echoed through the room. A section of the wall exploded inwards, showering us with dust and debris. A sliver of blinding light cut through the gloom. A tall, powerful figure stood silhouetted in the opening.

He moved with impossible speed, his form a blur. The masked man, who had been on top of me, was thrown back with a sickening crunch. The figure knelt, scooping my broken body into his arms. His touch was firm, yet gentle, a stark contrast to the brutality I had just endured. I tried to focus, to see his face, but my eyes refused to obey. The world spun once more, and this time, the darkness was complete.

Meanwhile, Collin sat in his office, idly scrolling through business news, a frown on his face. He called his security chief. "Any news on Calista? Is she... calm yet?"

"Sir," the chief stammered, his voice tight with panic. "It's... it's too late."

Collin frowned, annoyed. "Too late for what? Just keep her locked up. She'll learn her lesson."

Just then, his direct line rang. It was the hospital. "Mr. Fields," the administrator's voice was frigid. "We've received a payment for Mrs. Henson's mother's outstanding medical bills. The full amount. And a very generous donation in her name. Your previous recall has been... overridden."

Collin froze. Overridden? By whom?

Before he could process the information, his secretary burst into the office, her face ashen. "Mr. Fields! The stock market! Your company is in freefall! It's crashing!" His world, which had been teetering on the edge, suddenly plunged into an abyss.