"Isabella, stop crying. Mom has it all figured out."

Margaret Blake gently helped Isabella Knight up from the ground and whispered the plan into her ear.

After hearing it, Isabella finally wiped her tears and smiled again.

The plan was vicious, but clever-so sharp that even someone like Isabella, who was no saint herself, had to admit her mother had a real talent for this.

Earlier, at the engagement party, Old Mr. Barron had officially announced that starting today, Summer Knight would move to Alexander Barron's private island to spend time with him and deepen their relationship.

So, before Alexander's car arrived to pick Summer up that night, they had to move fast-knock her out and have her smuggled away on one of those shady boats headed for the Luna Pavilion in the capital.

That place was a known hellhole, a den of traded favors and power plays. Any woman who ended up there was finished. Within two months, they'd be molded into seductresses-if they survived at all.

And Summer? With the mind of a six-year-old? She'd be crying for help with no one to hear, completely at the mercy of those twisted, powerful clients. Her fate would be either broken or dead.

Meanwhile, Isabella would dress up as Summer, take some strong sedatives, and take her place on the ride to the island.

Once she met Alexander, she'd find a way to drug him. As long as she could sleep with him and capture it on video, she could blackmail him into marriage. There would be no way he could deny it.

Margaret and Isabella went over the plan again, growing more confident by the minute, even laughing proudly at their own cunning.

In their minds, Isabella was just steps away from becoming Mrs. Barron. Once married, they'd seize control of the Barron empire and live however they pleased.

Isabella would make everyone who'd humiliated her pay-ten times over.

The more they fantasized, the more excited they became, practically floating on their own wicked glee.

But what these two didn't know was that walls have ears.

Just after they climbed into their car, a silver-gray sedan parked ahead slowly pulled away.

Behind the wheel sat a woman with a delicate but pale face.

She glanced at the voice recording on her phone, then at the silver needle that had fallen from Summer's dress at the party-now resting on her passenger seat.

She knew what she had to do.

She had to find Summer.

Tell her everything.

-

After the party, Alexander didn't take Summer back to pack himself-he sent his assistant, Ethan Hart, instead.

Ethan wasn't just anyone. He was one of the best, handpicked by Alexander from a private training fortress in Europe.

With Ethan guarding her, Alexander knew Summer was safe.

Still, Summer couldn't hide her disappointment. She'd kind of hoped Alexander would come himself.

Even so, she could tell right away-Ethan was solid. Loyal and capable. Far better than that traitor Daniel Barron had planted beside Alexander in her past life.

Alexander had trusted that man too much, and it cost him-over and over. It took him years and countless setbacks to finally take control of the Barron empire.

Summer's eyes sparkled with thought before she flashed Ethan an innocent smile. She tilted her head and asked sweetly,"Ethan, how long have you worked with Big Brother Alex? Do you know what his favorite food is?"

If it weren't common knowledge that Summer had the mind of a child, someone as cautious as Ethan might have thought she was digging for intel.

His reply was cool and clipped:"Only two days."

After a pause, he added,"Before that, there was another assistant around Mr. Barron... but I heard he dealt with him quietly."

Even knowing Summer probably wouldn't grasp the meaning, he still couldn't bring himself to lie.

But that one sentence sent a shock through Summer's heart.

She had originally planned to deal with that traitor herself once she reached the island. Who would've thought Alexander had already cleaned house two days ago, realizing the assistant was Daniel Barron's spy.

Things were really starting to diverge from her previous life. Who knew what other surprises lay ahead?

Before long, the car pulled up at the Knight family estate.

Ethan turned to her, ever respectful."Miss, shall I help you pack?"

"Hehe, no need! Summer can do it! Just give me an hour-I'll have everything ready!"

Grinning proudly, Summer bounded toward the house, all sunshine and innocence.

She had a secret meeting with Grace to attend-obviously, she couldn't let Ethan catch wind of that. Not that she was worried; she was pretty sure Grace wouldn't let her down.

Sure enough, just as Summer stepped into the brightly lit mansion, a car parked quietly down the street.

Grace kept her eyes on the house but didn't glance toward the main gate. Instead, she clenched the silver needle in her fist and scaled the wall from the back.

She needed answers about what Summer had said. She had to know the truth.

Of course, Ethan spotted her the moment she moved.

He sent a message to Alexander, who replied with just seven words:

"Let my little fool have her fun."

-

Inside the Knight estate.

Margaret was locked in her room, whispering over the phone to a human trafficker. Meanwhile, Isabella had gone out, supposedly for something mundane-in truth, she was buying sedatives.

And Charles? The man was practically glowing. With Summer about to marry into the Barron family as its future lady, his own status was set to skyrocket.

So when she walked back in, he greeted her like she was made of gold.

He fussed over her endlessly, even sent a couple of maids to help her pack.

But Summer, wearing her signature dopey smile, waved them off."Daddy, Summer wants to pack by herself! That way, big brother will think I'm really good at this and like me even more!"

"Haha, of course, sweetheart. You're always right,"Charles chuckled, straining to sound sincere."Daddy's so proud to have such a clever girl."

It was the first time he'd ever praised her. but the fake sweetness in his voice almost made her gag.

The man had a real talent for being disgusting.

Summer gave him a clueless grin before hopping upstairs like an overexcited bunny. As soon as she turned the corner, her smile vanished. A cold glint flashed in her eyes.

She slipped into her room and began packing, but her full attention was on the silence around her.

Then-the faintest rustle by the window.

Summer's ears perked up. Right on time.

A slim figure slipped inside through the open window.

Grace.

"Miss Summer, what do you need me to do?"

Grace was sharp enough to guess that if Summer was arranging a secret meeting like this-being fully honest about who she was-there had to be a request behind it.

And only after it was done. would she get what she wanted.

Summer didn't waste words. Stepping close, she leaned in and whispered directly into Grace's ear.

As soon as she finished, Grace's delicate brows furrowed, and her face tightened.

Grace sat in silence for a moment, collecting herself, before she finally spoke.

"I'll help you. But first, there's something you need to hear."

She took out her phone and played a recording-the voices of Isabella and Margaret plotting filled the room.

Summer listened, a cold smirk tugging at her lips, her eyes sharp with disdain.

Those fools never learn.

"Guess I owe you one,"Summer said, her tone almost playful.

"Then pay me back now, Miss Knight. This silver needle-it's yours, isn't it?"

Grace held out the needle.

Summer took it without hesitation. It gleamed coldly between her fingers-sharp, precise, dangerous.

"My mother left it to me,"she said honestly.

Grace knew medicine well enough to recognize that Summer's skills weren't amateur-clearly inherited from Claire Ford, once known as City Q's top healer.

"You know why I brought it up?"Grace reached into her sleeve and pulled out an identical silver needle."Look. My master told me if I ever found one like this, I had to tell him immediately."

Summer's brows lifted slightly.

The same needle? That meant her mother must have known Grace's master.

"He's a famous healer in City A. People call him Mr. Jenkins,"Grace explained, then added,"That's all I can say. Now-it's your turn to keep your word."

Summer nodded."About that incident. try looking into the woman your husband can't forget. You might find something."

With that, Grace left-so quietly no one even noticed she'd been there.

In her past life, Summer hadn't known Grace well, but she knew enough. Grace's husband, William Frost, was one of City Q's elite and a close friend of Alexander Barron.

Just last month, at Isabella's birthday party, Grace had been drugged and ended up in bed with William. The scandal forced them to marry. But William's heart belonged to someone else, and he resented Grace for it.

Only Summer knew the truth-the one who spiked the drink wasn't Grace. It was Isabella, working behind the scenes.

In a way, that made Grace and Summer allies against a common enemy.

Not long after, Summer finished packing. Truth was, she didn't have much-just a few sets of clothes. That was all she owned after years under the Knights' roof.

She didn't go downstairs. Instead, she sat calmly in her room, waiting for Isabella to show up.

Soon enough, a knock came.

Isabella stepped inside holding a steaming bowl of soup, a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face.

"Hey, sis! I made you some chicken soup. It's cold out-warm yourself up before you go."

Summer didn't even blink.Isabella-Miss I-Don't-Do-Chores-cooking for her?Hilarious. That soup was definitely spiked.

"Wow! Summer loves chicken soup! It makes her pretty so big brother will like her more! Thanks, sis!"Summer giggled.

She was practically vibrating with exaggerated excitement, flapping her hands like some over-the-top cartoon character-ridiculous, really.

Isabella smirked inwardly.What an idiot. Let her enjoy it while she can. Soon, she'll regret ever being born.

Summer took the bowl, slipping a silver needle into the soup while Isabella wasn't looking. The moment the needle touched the liquid, the color began to fade-definitely drugged.

Without missing a beat, Summer pulled the needle back and started gulping the soup like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted.

That finally made Isabella crack a smug smile. She began counting silently. The moment Summer passed out, she'd drag her to the back gate. Margaret had already arranged for someone to take her straight to that hellhole pleasure house in the capital.

But twenty seconds passed, and Summer was still perfectly fine.

Just as Isabella began to wonder if she'd been sold fake drugs, Summer suddenly spat out the soup with a dramatic grimace.

"Eww! Sis, this tastes gross. I'm done,"she whined, scrunching up her face.

"You moron! Are you messing with me?"Isabella snapped, storming over in a rage. She raised her hand, ready to slap Summer across the face.

But before the hit could land, Summer caught her wrist in a vice-like grip.

"Yeah. I am messing with you,"Summer said, her voice icy and sharp as glass. Her stare was even colder.

Isabella's face froze, panic flashing in her eyes. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. That mocking calm. that wasn't the Summer she knew.

Before Isabella could react, a sharp pain exploded at the back of her head-and everything went black.

Once Summer was sure Isabella was completely unconscious, she nudged her limp body with her foot.Yep. Out cold.

She found a large sack, stuffed Isabella inside, and slipped toward the back gate without alerting a single servant.

Meanwhile, Margaret was pacing nervously near the rear entrance, wound tight with anxiety.

"Mrs. Blake, the boat leaves in thirty minutes,"the trafficker reminded her, impatience clear in his voice."If we don't move now, we're done."

"I know, I know! I'll go hurry them,"Margaret muttered, turning to head upstairs and check on the delay.

Suddenly-

A heavy thud sounded nearby.

Margaret nearly jumped out of her skin, convinced they'd been caught. But when she looked, she saw a sack lying a few meters away, a human shape faintly visible inside.

She grinned in relief and hurried over.Had to be Summer.

She assumed Isabella must've had a reason for stuffing her in a sack, but whatever-the job was done.

What Margaret didn't see was the slim figure standing silently around the corner, watching everything with cold, gleaming eyes. Summer observed, a smirk of cold mockery on her lips.

Earlier, she'd used the needle to knock Isabella out-but not deeply. She wanted her to wake up. She wanted her to see with her own eyes that it was her own mother handing her over to traffickers, sending her straight to hell.

Isabella wanted her tortured to death?

Let's see who ends up begging in the end.

Later, Summer planned to have Grace leak photos of her and Alexander looking intimate on the island-just to stir the pot even more.

By then, Isabella would already be missing. It wouldn't be long before Margaret realized the girl she'd just handed over. was her own daughter.

That kind of pain would shatter her.

After this?

Next targets: Charles Knight and James Carter.

She would make every single person who'd hurt her in her past life pay-without exception.

Margaret Blake approached the sack, a smug smile creeping across her face. She had no idea that it wasn't Summer Knight inside-it was her own daughter, Isabella.

Watching from a distance, Summer's eyes turned cold, a mocking smirk playing on her lips before she turned and left. She needed to catch Ethan Hart's car to the island immediately.

As she pulled her suitcase downstairs, Charles Knight greeted her with exaggerated warmth, rushing over.

"Summer, that looks heavy. Let me get that for you!"

Summer shook her head, setting the suitcase down. Fighting back nausea, she forced a tearful hug.

"Sniff. Daddy, I really don't want to leave you."

"I don't want you to go either!"Charles was just as skilled at pretending, his eyes instantly welling up with fake tears.

He desperately wanted to ask about Claire Ford's hidden fortune, but before he could speak, Summer cut in.

"Sniff. Daddy, I'm sorry I tricked you with that song last time. But I really do remember where Mom's treasure is. I'd tell you now, but Big Brother is waiting."

"You can come to the island tomorrow, Daddy, and I'll show you everything then, okay?"

"You're such a good girl, Summer!"Charles beamed as if he'd won the lottery.

That fortune would save the Knight family from ruin. Plus, with Summer marrying Alexander Barron, he'd be the father-in-law of the Barron empire's CEO-finally someone important in City Q.

The Knights would be the next big dynasty!

As he walked her to the door, Charles could barely contain his excitement, though he tried to hide his grin, his face flushing with strange delight.

But Summer saw right through him. That over-the-top enthusiasm was exactly what she needed.

The moment she saw his flattering expression downstairs, she decided not to have Grace Hill leak anything to Margaret.

No-she wanted Charles to see her on that island with his own eyes, then run back and break the news to Margaret himself. That would hurt so much more.

Because Summer hadn't forgotten-not for a second-that it was Charles and Margaret who drove Claire to her death.

She would have her revenge, and she would make it count.

-

Meanwhile, at the back of the property-

Margaret suspected nothing about who was inside the sack. Her face twisted with malice as she barked at the traffickers to bring the van around. Then, rolling up her sleeves, she prepared to lift the bag herself.

Just then, Isabella finally woke up.

Her head spun with confusion.

Where was she? Why was it so dark?

When someone touched the sack, Isabella flinched and began struggling in panic.

The sudden movement caught Margaret completely off guard, sending her tumbling to the ground, limbs flailing.

Her hand landed directly on the silver needle Summer had dropped earlier. A sharp, searing pain shot through her.

Margaret hissed, her face contorted with rage as she spat,"Summer, you little b*tch! Still fighting back when you're done for? Just wait-I'll teach you a lesson for what you did to my Isabella!"

Margaret grew angrier with every word, her eyes locking onto the silver needle on the ground. A dark glint flashed in her eyes.

Snatching the needle, she stomped toward the burlap sack.

Inside, Isabella had felt a flicker of hope when she heard her mother's voice-but it froze into ice when she realized Margaret had called her "Summer."

A jolt ran through her. In that split second, she remembered how her plan to trap Summer had backfired.

That b*tch Summer. Was she pretending to be dumb all along?

Before she could process what went wrong, a searing pain tore through her limbs-like her nerves were being shredded.

"Summer, you witch! Let's see if I can poke you dead!"

Margaret's face was twisted with hatred, her eyes bloodshot as she stabbed the sack over and over with the needle.

She thought she was torturing Summer's soul, but every jab was piercing her own daughter-the one she'd shielded all her life, the one she couldn't bear to see hurt.

Margaret's rage spiraled out of control, and she even began screaming curses at Claire Ford's ghost.

Inside the sack, Isabella was on the brink. Her face had gone ghost white, tears soaking her cheeks.

She wanted to scream, to tell the woman outside,"I'm Isabella! Not Summer!"

But her mouth was sealed with tape, her hands and feet tied until they were numb. She could only twist and writhe, dodging the next stab as best she could.

And the more she struggled, the angrier Margaret became.

All that hate Margaret poured into the needle went straight into Isabella's body.

Just then, one of the traffickers rushed over and yanked Margaret back.

"Whoa there, Mrs. Knight! Keep stabbing like that and she'll be dead. How are we supposed to sell her then?"

Only then did Margaret snap out of it. She threw the needle aside, breathing heavily.

But Isabella was already a wreck, covered from head to toe in bloody welts. Even the sack was soaked through with red-it looked like a scene from a nightmare.

Next, Margaret helped the traffickers heave the sack into the van.

Right before they left, she paused. Turning back with a sneer, she warned them to make sure they"treat"the person in the sack well on the boat. If the job went smoothly, she'd double their payment.

Isabella knew exactly what that"treat"meant.

Her body shook with terror.

No. She couldn't end up in that hellhole in the capital-not that brothel.

Once you're in there. you either die or never get out.

Tears flooded her face again, and she thrashed wildly in panic.

But the trafficker just slammed the trunk shut with a heavy thud.

Darkness swallowed her completely.

That's when she finally blacked out from despair.

-

Meanwhile, Margaret remained clueless.

She turned around, beaming with pride.

Time to head to the front gate and see Isabella off.

If that trip to the island worked? She'd be the mother-in-law to the head of the Barron Empire.

Unlimited money, gold everywhere, and those high-society wives in City Q would finally have to show her respect!

The more she thought about it, the more she floated on air.

She was practically skipping, drunk on her own dream.