The heavy oak door slammed shut. The loud sound echoed off the high ceiling of the silent, cavernous bedroom.

Cordelia looked down at her left arm. The perfectly wrapped white bandage rested starkly against the dark silk sheets.

She traced the edge of the gauze with her right index finger. A bitter, self-deprecating smile formed on her dry lips.

She recalled the exact moment in her past life when Julian had handed her those forged documents. He had manipulated her into hating Damien with surgical precision.

She remembered Scarlett's fake, sugary sisterly love. That same love had ultimately led to her being locked inside the burning warehouse, gasping for air as the flames licked her skin.

Her hands curled into tight fists. Her fingernails dug painfully into her palms.

An unsettling calm replaced the vulnerable exhaustion in her eyes. The tears dried up instantly.

The sleek, modern intercom on the bedside table suddenly buzzed. The sharp electronic sound broke the heavy silence of the room.

Cordelia startled. She stared at the blinking red light on the black console.

She leaned over the edge of the mattress. She pressed the answer button with her uninjured right hand.

Nash's gruff, professional voice came through the small speaker: "Mr. Sterling, Scarlett Montgomery is in the lobby. She is demanding immediate entry."

Cordelia's breathing hitched. Just hearing that name sparked a pure, unadulterated hatred deep in the center of her chest.

Out in the hallway, Damien stood rigid. He glared at the wall-mounted security monitor displaying the live feed of Scarlett pacing in the marble lobby.

He pressed his earpiece and ordered: "Nash, throw her out. Physically. Onto the avenue."

On the security feed, Nash nodded visibly. The large man stepped forward, preparing to execute the physical removal.

Inside the bedroom, Cordelia pressed the intercom button again. Her voice cut through the secure line, clear and steady: "Nash, let her come up."

In the hallway, Damien stared at the intercom speaker on the wall. His jaw clenched in absolute, staggering disbelief.

His mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. He assumed Cordelia wanted to see her sister to receive secret messages or escape plans from Julian.

He punched the reinforced wall beside the monitor. His knuckles turned stark white from the impact.

Damien pressed the master talk button. His voice was laced with pure venom: "Nash, escort Scarlett directly to the master bedroom."

He turned his head and ordered Pierce, who was standing nearby: "Activate the hidden audio surveillance in the master suite."

He walked into the adjoining study. He left the connecting door open just a fraction of an inch.

Damien stood in the pitch-black study. He positioned himself perfectly to observe the bedroom bed without being detected.

Cordelia heard the sharp click of the intercom disconnecting. She knew Damien's paranoid nature. She knew he was likely watching her right now.

When the soft, melodic ding of the private elevator opening in the foyer echoed through the penthouse, her shoulders slumped. Her gaze fell to the sheets, presenting the very image of a broken, helpless woman.

She pulled the comforter up slightly higher, hiding the tense, ready muscles in her arms. Her enemy had arrived.

The heavy bedroom door opened slowly. Scarlett stepped into the room, wearing a pristine, pale pink designer dress.

Scarlett rushed immediately to the side of the bed. Her face was twisted into an exaggerated, theatrical expression of sisterly worry.

She grabbed Cordelia's uninjured right hand. She squeezed it tightly with her perfectly manicured fingers.

Scarlett let out a dramatic, loud gasp upon seeing the thick white bandage wrapped around Cordelia's left wrist.

She leaned down and whispered loudly: "Damien is a cruel monster. He keeps you locked up in this penthouse like a common prisoner."

Cordelia suppressed the intense, violent urge to rip her hand away. She forced her neck to move, offering a weak, pathetic nod.

Scarlett leaned in closer. Her expensive, overpowering floral perfume assaulted Cordelia's senses, making her stomach churn.

Scarlett whispered conspiratorially: "Julian is waiting for you. In a black car. Right outside the building."

Cordelia's heart remained perfectly steady. She feigned a look of desperate, tragic hope, widening her eyes slightly.

Scarlett looked around the massive room. Her eyes darted suspiciously into the corners, checking for visible security cameras.

Satisfied they were alone, she unclasped the gold hardware on her oversized Hermes Birkin bag resting on her lap.

Scarlett reached deep inside the expensive leather bag. Her eyes locked intensely onto Cordelia's pale face.

She pulled out a small, intricately carved silver dagger. It was hidden inside a black velvet pouch.

Scarlett slid the cold metal dagger under the edge of the silk blanket. She pressed the hilt directly against Cordelia's thigh.

She whispered: "Julian sent this. It is the only way to help you escape the monster holding you captive. Use it on Damien tonight. Right when his guard is down. When he is sleeping."

Cordelia stared down at the silver hilt peeking out from the fabric. She remembered this exact, horrifying moment from her past life.

In the past, she had taken the weapon. She had actually tried to stab Damien with it, breaking his heart completely.

Cordelia slowly raised her eyes. She met Scarlett's eager, malicious gaze head-on.

For a fleeting second, a flicker of something other than fear--something cold and sharp--passed through her eyes before vanishing.

Scarlett blinked rapidly. She looked genuinely confused and unsettled by the sudden, chilling shift in her sister's demeanor.

In the dark adjoining study, Damien stood completely frozen. He peered through the slightly open connecting door.

His sharp eyes locked onto the glint of the silver dagger partially hidden under the blanket.

A massive wave of profound betrayal and suffocating fury washed over his rigid body. His chest tightened painfully.

He watched Cordelia stare at the weapon. He misinterpreted her silence as active, serious contemplation of his murder.

Damien's large hand hovered over the brass doorknob. He was ready to burst into the room and stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life.

His breathing turned shallow and ragged. His chest ached with actual, physical pain at her perceived betrayal.

He forced his hand to drop. His masochistic side demanded to see if she would actually accept the weapon from Julian.

He tightened his grip on the edge of the doorframe instead. His knuckles popped loudly in the silent study.

Damien's eyes darkened into a pitch-black abyss. He braced his entire body for the ultimate heartbreak.

Cordelia slowly reached her uninjured right hand toward the silver dagger resting on the bed.

Scarlett's eyes lit up with triumphant glee. Her glossy lips curled into a vicious, victorious smirk.

Cordelia's fingers wrapped firmly around the cold silver hilt of the weapon. The metal bit into her palm.

Scarlett leaned back slightly. She opened her mouth, preparing to offer more manipulative words of encouragement.

Suddenly, Cordelia's grip tightened on the hilt. Her knuckles turned stark white with the force of her hold.

With lightning speed, Cordelia lunged forward. She grabbed Scarlett's right wrist with her injured left hand.

Scarlett yelped in genuine surprise. She tried to pull her arm back, but the sudden grip caught her completely off guard.

Cordelia ignored the tearing, burning pain in her bandaged wrist. She held Scarlett in an iron vice grip.

Cordelia forcefully dragged Scarlett's hand over her own. She pressed Scarlett's fingers tightly around the hilt of the dagger.

Before Scarlett could process the movement, Cordelia pulled Scarlett's arm aggressively toward her own body.

Cordelia plunged the sharp tip of the dagger directly into her own left shoulder.

A sharp gasp escaped Cordelia's lips as the cold metal pierced her flesh. The pain was blinding and immediate.

Bright red blood instantly bloomed across the pristine white silk of her nightgown, spreading like a horrific watercolor painting.

Scarlett froze in absolute horror. Her hand was still physically trapped on the dagger's hilt, pushing it into Cordelia's skin.

Cordelia released Scarlett's wrist. She let the other woman's arm drop limply to the mattress.

Cordelia let out a blood-curdling, terrified scream. The sound echoed violently through the massive penthouse.

She screamed: "Scarlett! Please! Don't kill me! Please!"

Scarlett stammered, her eyes wide with panic: "I--I didn't--Cordelia, what are you--"

In the adjoining study, Damien heard the scream. He kicked the connecting door wide open without even touching the knob.

The heavy wood crashed against the wall. The doorframe splintered loudly under the sheer force of his kick.

Damien charged into the bedroom. He moved like a furious, unleashed apex predator defending its mate.

His eyes locked immediately onto the dark blood pouring rapidly from Cordelia's shoulder.

He saw Scarlett standing over the bed. Her hand was hovering mere inches from the dagger embedded in Cordelia's flesh.

A guttural roar of pure, unadulterated rage ripped from Damien's throat: "GET AWAY FROM HER!"

He crossed the massive bedroom in two long strides. He grabbed Scarlett directly by the throat.

He hurled Scarlett backward with terrifying, brutal force. He sent her flying through the air.

Scarlett crashed heavily into a glass side table. The thick glass shattered loudly, raining shards over the carpet.

Scarlett collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, clutching her bruised neck.

Damien dropped heavily to his knees beside the bed. His large hands hovered over Cordelia, trembling violently.

His face was pale with shock. His previous anger was completely replaced by a desperate, suffocating terror.

Cordelia looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. She whispered: "Damien... I was so scared. So scared."