“Please…” she whimpered, her voice trembling and weak. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away. Please… Mom… Dad…”

The car hit her again.

A sickening crack echoed through the empty road as her body slammed hard against the ground.

Pain exploded through her bones, stealing the air from her lungs.

Her legs twisted at an unnatural angle beneath her, and for a moment she couldn’t even scream.

Then the pain found her voice.

A broken, animalistic cry tore out of her throat.

Blood was coming out from her mouth, from her nose and from the open wounds scattered across her skin.

She tried to move.

She couldn’t.

Her body refused to obey.

Her vision blurred, swimming in and out of focus as dizziness threatened to swallow her whole.

The engine of the car roared again.

Her heart seized in terror.

“Thought you wanted to run?” a mocking voice called out from inside the vehicle. “Go on Emily. Run.”

The words were followed by laughter.

Her hands trembled as she tried to crawl forward, dragging her broken body across the rough road.

Each movement sent fresh waves of agony through her limbs, but she kept trying, desperate to survive.

The cars finally stopped.

The doors opened.

One by one, they stepped out.

The Collins family.

Collins Peters…His wife, Mary.

And their children….Joy, Henry, Victor, and Elena.

The family she had lived with for ten years.

The family she had loved with all her heart.

The family she had sacrificed everything for.

They stood around her now, forming a circle, staring down at her like spectators watching a dying animal.

“The one time you were supposed to be useful to us,” Elena said, her lips curling in disgust, “you decided to run away.”

Emily’s chest shook with silent sobs as she hugged herself, trying to protect her shattered body from the cold air.

Her family wanted her to marry a man called Ghost to clear up his father’s gambling debt

A Crime leader.

A notorious killer.

A man people feared so deeply that they whispered his name like a curse.

He is rumored to kill people for breathing too loudly around him.

A man that has hundreds of women in his mansion. Women exchange for debts by their families

Rumours said he kills certain amount of women in his mansion every month to appease whatever cult he belongs

A twisted monster.

A devil in human form.

And they wanted her to become his bride.

She won't survive an hour there

“Please…” she begged again, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face.

“What a waste,” Her adopted father said flatly.

His voice carried no anger.

No disappointment.

Just cold indifference.

Mary Collins stepped forward slowly, her heels clicking against the tiled floor.

Emily’s heart leaped at the sight of her.

“Mom…” she whispered weakly, reaching out with trembling fingers, desperate for comfort.

For mercy.

For love.

Mary’s face twisted in disgust.

She lifted her foot….

And kicked Emily’s hand away with brutal force.

A sharp scream tore from Emily’s throat as fresh pain exploded through her already broken body.

“Don’t touch me, you rat”

Her hand dropped limply to the ground as she stared up at the woman she had called mother for years.

All she saw in Mary’s eyes was hatred.

Unfiltered Hatred.

She didn’t understand.

She never did..

She had done everything they asked.

Cooked their meals.

Wash their clothes with her hands.

She had worked until her hands bled just to make them happy.

She had taken the blame whenever one of them got into trouble.

She had accepted every punishment without complaint.

She had lived like a servant.

No.

Worse.

She had lived like a dog.

When they threw something, she ran to catch it.

When they told her to jump, she jumped.

When they told her to lie down, she lay down.

When they told her to sit, she sat.

She had spent ten years begging for love from people who never intended to give it.

Ten years.

And the one time she disobeyed them….

“I have a story to tell you, Emily,” Mary said suddenly.

Her lips stretched into a slow, cruel smile.

Emily’s heart pounds weakly in her chest as fear crept into her bones.

Mary clasped her hands together, her voice turning theatrical, almost playful.

“There was once a girl named Mary,” she began.

“She had a best friend she hated so much. That friend always had everything….beauty, wealth….happiness?”

Her smile widened.

“As if that wasn’t enough, she met a handsome rich man and married him.”

“Everything I break my back for to get, she gets it with ease”

Mary clapped her hands sharply, the sound echoing in the empty street.

Emily’s vision blurred as blood dripped down her face, mixing with her tears.

“So the girl Mary decided to do something about it,” she continued lightly. “She conspired with her best friend’s husband’s driver. His name was Collins”

She laughed.

A high, chilling sound that made Emily’s stomach twist in horror.

“Long story short… They killed her best friend and her husband and made it look like an accident.”

Emily blinked slowly, her breathing growing shallow as realization began to dawn on her.

Her gaze lifted weakly, locking onto Mary’s face.

The woman who had beaten her.

Burned her with hot water.

Whipped her until she couldn’t walk.

“Oh,” Mary added casually, tilting her head. “Did I mention they had a daughter?”

Her smile turned vicious.

“Her name was Emily.”

The world stopped.

Emily’s eyes widened in shock.

Her heart slammed violently against her ribs as the truth crashed down on her like a falling building.

No.

No.

No.

Her lips trembled uncontrollably.

“You… kil–killed my parents?” she whispered.

Mary examined her fingernails, completely unfazed.

“Yup,” she replied with a shrug. “With no regrets at all. I poisoned her for months though. Esther helped…your sweet nana Esther helped. She was your mom's cook” Mary laughs

Emily’s body went cold. Her chest drew in together, she couldn't breath.

Her eyes blurred again.

She's lying….

Esther was the best person in this world to her, a mother she never had.

She hugged her when she cried, she hides and brings her food when the Collins locks her up in that dark room. She was the only light she has in the world

The only person she thought cared about her in this world.

“No” she let out, her voice breaking, a sob breaks out from her lips.

The people she loved…

The people she had trusted…

Were her parent’s murderers.

“We wanted to send you to them though,” Mary continued casually. “But we learned your father left everything to you in his will.”

She crouched down slowly, bringing her face close to Emily’s.

“With no family members around, little Emily needed a guardian to take control of her inheritance until she turned twenty.”

Emily lay frozen on the ground, her body trembling violently as sobs shook her chest.

Ten years.

Ten years of suffering.

Ten years of loving monsters.

“Mom, aren’t you sharing too much?” Henry asked,walking close to his mother.

Mary laughed.

Emily’s hand twitched weakly as Mary suddenly stepped on it.

Hard.

The bones beneath her palm screamed in protest.

Emily shrieked in agony.

“What is she going to do?” Mary sneered. “Call the police? With what hand?”

Emily thrashed helplessly on the ground, crying and screaming for help as Mary continues to crush her hand

For anyone.

For someone.

But deep down, she already knew.

No one is coming.

No one cared.

She was alone.

Completely alone.

Her strength fades.

Her body gives up.

The kicks kept coming.

Her head slammed against the tiled ground again and again.

Soon, she couldn’t feel anything anymore.

The pain disappeared.

The fear disappeared.

Everything went numb.

Her vision darkened slowly as she stared at the people surrounding her.

Collins.

Mary.

Joy.

Henry.

Victor.

Elena.

They all knew.

They had killed her parents.

They had stolen her life.

And they had tortured her for ten long years.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

Her breathing slowed.

“Mom…. Dad…. I’m sorry,” she whispered faintly.

She wished she could see their faces one last time.

But she couldn’t even remember what they looked like.

Mary had burned every photograph.

Every memory.

Every trace of them.

Emily’s chest tightened painfully.

She had failed them.

She had spent ten years loving their killers.

Serving their killers.

Begging their killers for affection.

Emily was pathetic.

She had lived like a dog.

Now she was dying like one on the street.

A weak, broken laugh escaped her lips.

What would they do with her body?

Burn it?

Bury it?

Throw it away like trash?

They would probably get away with everything.

No one would notice she was gone.

No one would search for her.

No one would demand justice.

Maybe this was how her story was meant to end.

She was tired.

So tired.

She just wanted the pain to stop.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered one last time.

And then—

Everything went dark.

___

“Open your eyes child”

She felt weightless.

As if she were floating in endless darkness.

She tried to move.

She couldn’t feel her body.

“Open your eyes, Emily”

The voice sounded gentle.

Familiar.

She tried to open her mouth.

No sound came out.

She tried to move her hands.

Nothing happened.

Panic crept into her chest.

Was this death?

Was this what dying felt like?

“It’s not your time child,” the voice said softly. “Open your eyes.”

Emily struggled.

She screamed inside her mind.

Fought with everything she had left.

And suddenly–

Her eyes snapped open.

A terrified scream burst from her throat.

“We haven’t even touched you, and you’re already screaming.”

Her eyes snap up immediately

She froze.

Her heart pounds violently as her gaze lock on the figures standing in front of her.

The Collins.

All of them.

Why were they here?

Are they dead too?

“Why is she looking at us like that?” Joy asked, frowning.

“Get me a whip,” Mary ordered coldly.

Emily couldn't move.

Shock paralyzed her entire body.

“Look, Emily,” Elena said with a mocking chuckle. “Marrying Ghost might even change your life.”

Marry Ghost.

Her mind went blank.

She stared at them with wide, disbelieving eyes.

This has happened before… but how? How–

She looked at what she was wearing.

Oh God…. It's the same…

Then she turned slowly.

Her gaze landed on the wall clock.

2:25 PM. It was the exact same time they had flogged her. An hour from now she will run from home.

Her heart stopped.

This was the day she died.

The day she ran away after they told her she must marry Ghost.

The day everything ended for her

She had died.

So how–

“Wether you like it or not, you must marry him”

Emily was hearing their words but her brain still couldn't comprehend what was going on.

She died….

How is she here..

How is–

A whip suddenly land across her back.

Pain exploded through her body.

Her eyes flew wide.

She gasped sharply.

She could feel it.

Oh God!

She's alive?

Another whip landed on her again, she started crying, it was not from pain it was the fact she could feel pain

She's really alive.

But how, how?

Another whip landed on her back. She bite her lips

How is she here, how is she here.

“You must marry him”

How is she here?

Was it all a dream?

Did she come back to life?

Another lash lands on her arm

“I’ll marry him,” she blurted out immediately.

The room fell silent.

Everyone stared at her in shock.

She has no idea what happened. The fact the event happening right happened before.

She either went back in time or she is reborn five hours before her death

Maybe her life ended so pathetically, heavens felt moved to give her a chance at life?

That doesn't make sense. Life is not a movie or a story book….

But Emily is here, she can feel pain. She's alive.

And she's not about to make the same mistake again.

Last time she endured their beating, then she found a way and ran away only to be caught and tortured to death

Emily stares at each and every one of them.

Murderers, her mind screams.

If this life she has right now is real, Emily will cherish and use it well. She will make the Collins wish they were never born.

She will destroy each and every one of them.

“You will marry Ghost?” Collins asked sounding surprised himself.

Emily nods.

She will rather trust her life in the hands of a monster she doesn't know, than the monsters in front of her.

“I will marry him.”

Ghost

He threw another punch.

Then another.

Bone cracked beneath his knuckles, the sharp sound echoing through the underground ring like music.

Sweet, violent music that settled something dark inside his chest.

The man staggered, barely able to stand, blood already pouring from his split lip. His swollen eyes struggled to stay open, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

Ghost didn’t stop.

He drove his fist forward again, the impact snapping the man’s head to the side. A spray of blood scatters across the concrete floor.

The crowd surrounding the ring roared.

Men shouted.

Money exchanged hands.

Excitement filled the air.

But Ghost heard none of it.

All he heard was the rhythm of violence.

All he felt was the pressure building in his chest

Anger, betrayal and rage finally breaking loose.

He stepped forward and delivered a brutal kick straight into the man’s ribs.

A sickening crack followed.

The man collapsed instantly, coughing up blood.

Ghost stood over him, chest rising and falling slowly, his breathing controlled despite the violence he had just unleashed.

This was the underground world.

There were no rules here.

No mercy.

No justice.

Only power.

And tonight, power belonged to him.

He turned away from the ring without another glance, wiping the blood from his knuckles with the white cloth wrapped around his hand.

The fabric was already soaked red, but he cleaned himself carefully, as if the act itself brought him calm.

It had been a long time since he fought with his own hands.

Too long.

He had needed this.

Needed to feel bones breaking beneath his fists.

Needed to release the anger clawing at his insides.

Today, he had been betrayed.

Not by an enemy.

Not by a stranger.

But by one of his own men.

A man he had trusted.

A man he had called a friend.

For three years, that man had stolen from him.

Lied to him.

Used his trust like a weapon.

And he hadn’t known.

Because he trusted him.

He had been a fool.

“Sir, everything has been arranged.”

Sam’s voice floats through the noise behind him.

Ghost didn’t turn immediately. He continued unwrapping the cloth from his hand.

“Did they catch him?” he asked calmly.

“Yes, sir.”

Ghost nodded once.

“Good.”

Without another word, he walked toward the private corridor leading to the showers.

The sound of running water soon filled the tiled room. Steam rose into the air as he stepped beneath the water, letting it wash the blood from his skin.

The water turned lighter red as it flowed down the drain.

He stood there longer than necessary, staring at the wall in silence.

His expression never changed.

***

A minute later, he stepped out fully dressed, his suit perfectly tailored, his dark hair slicked back neatly.

There was no sign of the violence he had just committed.

He entered the elevator and pressed the button for the main floor.

The doors slid open.

Noise flooded his ears instantly.

Music was blasting….Coins clinking.

Machines rang…..Voices overlapped.

His casino was alive.

As always, people filled the massive floor, gamblers hunched over tables, dealers shuffling cards, women laughing, men shouting in excitement or frustration.

Morning….Afternoon….Midnight.

It didn’t matter.

They were always here.

Always ready to throw money into his pockets.

Always ready to lose everything.

Ghost walked through the crowd, his presence instantly changing the atmosphere.

Conversations lowered.

Laughter faded.

People stepped aside without being told.

“Oh, sir – I forgot to report something.”

Ghost didn’t slow his steps.

“What is it?”

Sam followed closely beside him as they moved toward another restricted area of the casino… a hidden corridor leading to the underground operations where the real business happened.

“Mr. Collins is offering his daughter for marriage to you,” Sam said carefully. “He is hoping his debt will be cleared.”

Ghost stopped walking.

Slowly, he turned his head.

“ Another marriage?” he repeated.

A faint smirk touched his lips.

“Why not just sell her?”

He already knew the answer.

To him, it was the same thing.

Marriage simply made it legal.

Marrying them meant ownership…. a clean record, no accusations of trafficking, no legal complications. Just contracts, signatures, and silence.

Most of the women working in his establishments had arrived that way.

Not bought.

Married.

Given to him in exchange for debts their families couldn’t pay.

It worked perfectly.

It was legal.

And the law allowed him to have as many wives as he wanted.

“Is she pretty?” he asked.

That was the only detail that mattered.

Sam pulled a photograph from his pocket and handed it to him.

“Her name is Emily,” he said. “She’s twenty-one.”

Ghost took the photo.

His eyes scanned the image.

A young woman stared back at him.

Soft features and wide eyes.

She looked too innocent.

Too fragile.

“She looks like someone who won't survive a day here ,” he said quietly.

He handed the picture back.

“Cancel it.”

His tone was final.

“Take men to Collins’s house tomorrow and collect my money. If he doesn’t pay– kill him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sam remained silent for a moment, still staring at the photograph.

“You know, sir… looks can be deceiving,” he said slowly. “She is pretty. Very pretty.”

Ghost glanced sideways at him.

“What?” he asked.

A pause.

“You like her?”

Sam’s head snapped up immediately.

“I wouldn’t dare, Ghost.”

Ghost held his gaze for a second longer.

Then he looked back at the photograph still in Sam’s hand.

A long silence passed.

“Fine,” he said at last.

“Agree to the marriage.”

*****

They stepped into another elevator, descending to a different level of the building…… one designed to look legitimate.

Offices lined the hallway, paperwork stacked neatly on desks, employees typing quietly behind computers.

Everything appeared clean.

Professional.

Legal.

The moment Ghost stepped out, every worker stood up instantly.

Heads bowed.

Eyes lowered.

No one dared meet his gaze.

Fear filled the air like a scent.

Ghost walked past them without acknowledgment and headed straight for his office.

He stopped at the doorway.

John was kneeling in the center of the room.

Two men held him firmly in place.

His face was swollen beyond recognition. Blood covered his mouth, his nose and his clothes. One eye was completely shut.

Ghost walked forward slowly and sat down in his chair.

For a moment, he simply stared.

This used to be a man he trusted.

A man who laughed with him.

A man who shared drinks with him.

A man he called brother.

“How long?” Ghost asked.

John understood immediately.

“Three years,” he said hoarsely.

Ghost already knew.

He just wanted to hear him say it.

To confess it with his own mouth.

He studied John in silence.

A question lingered in his mind.

Why?

He paid him well.

Protected him.

Trusted him.

Why betray him?

“If you’re waiting for me to beg for my life, Ghost,” John said, breathing heavily, “I won’t.”

Ghost said nothing.

“I know nothing I say will save me,” John continued. “So why bother?”

A slow smirk formed on Ghost’s lips.

“Try me,” he said.

“Who knows.”

John laughed weakly.

“It’s impossible for you to feel pity,” he said. “You have no empathy…. No human emotion….. No conscience.”

Ghost hummed softly.

“They call you a devil,” John continued. “But you’re worse than the devil.”

Ghost tilted his head slightly.

“You sound like you hate me,” he said calmly.

John laughed again.

“Hate is an understatement,” he said. “You have no idea how much I detest you.”

“Can I ask why?” Ghost asked.

John sneered.

“I doubt you even care. You enjoy being hated. You twisted bastard.”

Ghost stared at him without blinking.

Then John’s voice broke.

“You knew I loved her,” he whispered.

“You knew I loved her, Ghost.”

His breathing turned uneven.

“And you sent her on that mission to die.”

Ghost frowned slightly.

“Can you be specific?” he asked.

John struggled violently against the men holding him.

“I’m talking about Aria, you monster!” he screamed.

A pause.

“Oh,” Ghost said.

Understanding flickered in his eyes.

“You loved her?”

John growled.

Ghost stood up slowly.

“Oh, Aria,” he said, stepping closer.

“I remember her.”

He bent down until their faces were level.

“I remember her sneaking into my room one night,” he continued calmly. “ I remember her begging to touch me to suck my dick. I remember her mouth on me. She begged me with tears in her eyes to fuck her”

His voice remained steady.

“I didn’t touch her though,” he added. “I couldn't put my dick into her knowing that's the hole you fuck every night”

“Liar!” John shouted.

“I did you a favor,” Ghost said quietly.

“She didn’t love you. She used you to get close to me.”

John’s body shook with rage.

“You sent her to die!”

“Her death was her own doing,” Ghost replied coldly.

Silence filled the room.

Tears rolled down John’s face.

“I hope you die a horrible death,” he whispered.

“I hope you love someone one day… and watch them die in front of you.”

Ghost chuckled.

“Well,” he said lightly, spreading his arms,

“I hope you stand up right now and fly.”

A few men forced nervous laughter.

Ghost leaned closer, smirking.

“See?” he said softly.

“It doesn’t work.”

His expression hardened.

“You said it yourself,” he continued.

“I have no human emotion.”

A flicker passed through his eyes.

A memory.

Blood on the floor.

A woman lying still.

His own reflection in the red pool of blood beneath her.

He was twelve years old.

And he was smiling.

Ghost blinked once.

The memory vanished.

“I couldn’t even love my own mother,” he said quietly.

John stared at him with disgust.

Ghost straightened his posture.

“You betrayed me because of a woman” he said

“A woman who used you…she didn't care about you at all”

He chuckled softly.

“How does that feel?”

John lowered his head.

Tears continued falling down his swollen face.

Regret filled his eyes.

But it was too late.

Everything was too late.

“Say hello to your bitch when you meet her,” Ghost said.

John suddenly lifted his head.

“You will die a horrible death, Damien Cross!”

The room went silent.

Completely still.

Every man froze.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

That name was forbidden.

Damien.

A name no one was allowed to speak.

A name buried in the past.

“That’s right,” John continued.

“That’s your name.”

The men around them looked down immediately, terrified.

Ghost leaned back in his chair.

“Congratulations,” he said calmly.

“You get to say my name to my face before you die.”

He waved his hand.

“Take him away.”

“You will die a horrible death, Damien!” John repeated.

“Wait,” Ghost said suddenly.

The men stopped.

Ghost tilted his head slightly.

“How many times did he steal and divert my containers?” he asked.

“Thirty-two times in three years,” Sam answered.

Ghost hummed softly, pretending to think.

Then he spoke.

“Shoot him thirty-two times,” he said calmly.

A pause.

“Make sure you count every shot out loud.”

Sam nodded.

Ghost accepted the cigarette Sam handed him, placing it between his lips. He lit it slowly, inhaled once, then bent down toward John.

Smoke drifted from his mouth.

He blew it directly into John’s face.

“I want to hear your voices,” he said smirking “Counting the gun shots “

“You’re a monster,” John screamed, blood and spit flying from his mouth.

Ghost reached into his pocket and pulled out his white handkerchief….the same ones he always carried.

Calmly, he wiped the blood from his face.

Then he dropped the cloth on the floor and stepped on it.

“Goodbye, John,” he said.

A slow smile spread across his lips.

“Say hello to my horrible father for me, will you?”

He smiled.

“Monster!”

Emily sat in the dark, cold room, her back pressed against the rough wall.

She felt nothing.

No anger.

No fear.

No tears.

Just a hollow silence inside her chest, as if her heart had given up beating long ago.

She had spent days in this room, days that blurred into one endless stretch of darkness.

This room was just like her bedroom. The only difference between her room and this punishment room is thin mattress on the floor and the window in her room

This was her punishment room.

A place meant to break her.

She had said yes to marrying Ghost.

She had given them exactly what they wanted.

And still, they locked her here.

Because they did not trust her, they did not believe her.

Her lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.

Was she walking to her death by marrying Ghost?

Maybe.

But Emily would rather die in the hands of a stranger than spend another day living under the cruelty of the monsters who killed her parents.

Her fingers curled slowly into fists.

She will live.

She will try.

She had been given a second chance…. a miracle she did not deserve, a life returned to her when death had already claimed her once.

Millions of people die every year without another chance to fix their mistakes.

She would not waste hers.

The sudden creak of the door shattered the silence.

Emily did not move.

The door swung open, and light spilled into the room, blinding her for a brief second. A familiar figure stepped inside.

Esther.

A woman she once saw as a second mother.

“I brought you food,” Esther said softly, holding a tray in both hands. A gentle smile rested on her lips, the same smile that used to comfort her on sleepless nights.

Emily stared at her.

That smile used to feel warm and safe.

Now it looks like poison.

“I’m not hungry,” she said flatly.

Esther frowned slightly, confusion flickering across her face.

“Honey, you have to eat something.”

Emily almost laughed.

The sound bubbled in her throat, dry and bitter.

There was a time when she would run into Esther’s arms after every punishment. When she would bury her face into her shoulder and cry until her chest ached.

Esther would hum softly, stroking her hair, whispering gentle prayers over her wounds.

She used to clean her cuts.

Dress her bruises.

Stay awake beside her when fever burned through her body.

Emily used to pray for her.

She used to thank God everyday for having her in her life.

She used to pray for protection for the woman who poisoned her parents for months.

A sad chuckle slipped past her lips before she could stop it. A single tear rolled down her cheek

She wiped it away immediately.

Esther lowered herself into a squat in front of her, just like she always did.

She looked like she cared.

She looked like she was hurting too.

Emily’s gaze dropped to Esther’s hands.

Those hands.

The same hands that once wiped her tears…

had mixed poison into her parents’ food.

For months.

Without mercy.

Emily inhaled sharply, her chest trembling.

She had been a fool all her life.

“Esther,” she called softly.

Esther looked up at her immediately.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Emily’s voice came out quiet, almost gentle.

“Do you take care of me out of guilt?”

Esther froze.

Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. She shot to her feet so suddenly that her leg hit the tray. The metal clattered loudly as it crashed to the floor, food spilling everywhere.

She did not even notice.

“W-why would you say that?” she stammered, her voice shaking.

Emily watched her carefully.

That reaction was her answer.

A faint chuckle escaped her lips.

“Nothing,” she said calmly, wiping the last trace of tears from her face.

Before Esther could speak again, a harsh voice cut through the air.

“Okay, time to come out.”

Henry stood at the doorway, his tall frame blocking the light. His eyes flicked toward the mess on the floor, then back to Esther with open disgust.

“You useless woman,” he spat, pointing a finger at her. “Still sneaking food to her when we told you not to.”

Esther lowered her head immediately, shrinking under his glare.

Emily stared at both of them, her face blank.

Once, she would have felt sorry for Esther. She would have begged Henry not to punish her.

Not anymore.

She pushed herself to her feet slowly, ignoring the stiffness in her legs.

Without waiting to be dragged, she walked toward the door on her own.

___

They were already waiting for her in the living room.

Everyone was here.

Elena stood in the center of the room, holding a long white gown in her hands.

That must be her wedding gown.

Emily stopped a few feet away from them.

“You are really agreeing to marry Ghost?” Collins asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

Emily lifted her gaze to meet his.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I want to.”

Joy snorted.

“Yeah, right,” she said, crossing her arms. “She must be planning something. Why would she agree so easily?”

Emily closed her eyes briefly, forcing her expression to soften.

“I’m not planning anything,” she said in a small, pitiful voice. “Mom… Dad… I just want to make you happy.”

The words tasted like poison in her mouth.

She wanted to scrub her tongue clean.

Wash her mouth with bleach.

Slowly, she watched their suspicion melt away, replaced by disgust

They saw her as a weak desperate pathetic weak fool that will do anything for their acceptance.

Exactly what she wanted.

Collins let out a satisfied laugh.

“This is good,” he said. “Very good. Marrying Ghost is not a death sentence. You could survive… if you manage to please him. If you win his favor, I will finally be proud of you.”

Emily lowered her head obediently.

“I’ll do everything I can, Dad.”

The lie came easily.

They all believed she had no chance of surviving in that dark world.

But Emily will survive.

No matter what it took.

She will endure.

She will learn and she will rise.

And one day, she would collect every drop of blood the Collins family owed her.

___

They dragged her into another room and forced the wedding gown over her body.

The fabric scratched against her skin as they pulled it down roughly.

The dress was ugly.

It was too big and too heavy.

It swallowed her whole, making her look smaller than she already was.

“Beautiful,” they said in unison.

Emily stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked like a ghost.

Not a bride.

The dress was wearing her instead of the other way around.

Her hands trembled slightly at her sides, but she kept her face blank.

Then they dragged her into yet another room.

Elena stepped forward, holding a banana in her hand.

Emily’s stomach twisted immediately.

“Pay attention,” Elena said sharply. “You might get the opportunity to see ghost. Make sure you cease it and make it memorable that he will remember you after that”

The room felt smaller.

Emily swallowed hard, forcing her expression to remain empty.

She obeyed every instruction on how to suck a dick.

Every command.

Her jaw ached.

Her throat burned.

Her dignity shattered piece by piece.

Joy entered shortly after, her eyes scanning her like she was nothing more than an object.

“Stand up,” Joy ordered.

Emily rose slowly.

“Walk.”

She walked.

“Slower.”

She slowed down.

“Move your hips.”

A sharp slap landed against her thigh.

Pain shot through her body, but she did not react.

“Smile.”

Another slap.

“Look seductive.”

Another.

The humiliation was endless.

They taught her how to sit.

How to stand.

How to breathe.

How to please a man.

Every mistake earned a slap.

Every hesitation earned an insult.

Emily gritted her teeth, swallowing the pain as it crawled under her skin.

They believed they were breaking her.

They had no idea they were forging something stronger.

They kept talking about sex.

Emily almost laughed.

They really believed she was a virgin.

Her mind drifted back to that fateful day.

The injured stranger.

The blood.

The desperation in his voice as he begged her to help him reach his car.

She had only wanted to save him.

Nothing more.

But one moment of weakness had stolen her innocence forever.

She remembered the confusion.

The fear.

The shock.

The way her body had betrayed her.

She wondered what these women would say if they knew.

If they discovered that the quiet, obedient girl standing before them had already lost her innocence in the backseat of a stranger’s car.

“It’s going to hurt at first,” Joy said casually. “But once your body adjusts, you’ll enjoy it.”

Emily stared at her silently.

“Sometimes it depends on the size,” Elena added with a smirk.

Emily looked at their shameless faces, disgust swell inside her chest.

“Did you even understand anything we just said?” Joy demanded.

Emily nodded slowly.

“Yes.”

Joy rolled her eyes.

“You know what? Live or die, I don’t care.”

She turned and walked out of the room.

Elena followed behind her without another word.

The door slammed shut.

Silence filled the space once more.

Emily stood there alone, her chest rising and falling slowly.

Then a very slow small cold smile appeared on her lips.

She would make them bleed.

She would take everything from them.

Everything they love.

Everything they cherished.

Everything they believed belonged to them.

She turned toward the window. All she can see is…

Freedom…..Power

All waiting on the other side.

All she has to do is survive

Tomorrow is her wedding.

To everyone else, she is walking to her death.

But to Emily…

She is walking to a new chapter of her life.