The party was in full swing when an uninvited guest barged in.

Jack. Christine’s fiancé from five years ago. The man I had supposedly “stolen.”

He looked more haggard than he had five years before, but the cruelty in his eyes was sharper now, more pronounced. His gaze remained fixed on Christine—unblinking, like a venomous snake sizing up its prey.

“Christine. You’re back. Didn’t think to let me know?” His smile twisted into an ugly grimace. “Found a new sponsor already? Matthew, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room.

Matthew immediately stepped in front of Christine, his face darkening. “Mr Jack. Watch your tone. You are not welcome here.”

“I’m talking to my ex-fiancée. What’s it to you?” Jack sneered, his gaze still locked on Christine. “Christine, darling. Have you forgotten how good we were together? If it weren’t for that low-born sister of yours—”

“Enough.”

A clear, sharp voice cut him off.

It was Christine.

She stepped out from behind Matthew, her face expressionless, her eyes cold as ice.

“Jack. You and I have been over for a long time.” She enunciated each word slowly, her voice quiet yet carrying perfectly across the silent room. “And you will not insult her.”

I froze.

She… was defending me?

Jack stared, stunned, then barked out an incredulous laugh. “You’re defending *her*? Have you lost your mind, Christine? That slut stole your man! Made you the laughingstock of the entire city! And now you’re defending her?”

Christine just looked at him, her expression pure disgust—and with it, a flicker of something I’d never seen in her eyes before. Pity.

“I said get out. Now.”

Jack’s face flushed a deep, ugly purple. As the security guards dragged him away, he was still screaming, raw fury clawing at his voice. “You’ll regret this, Christine! And that bitch Audrey! I’ll make you both pay!”

A perfect evening, ruined in an instant.

While Matthew worked the room, smoothing over the awkwardness, Christine slipped away alone to the balcony. The night breeze lifted her hair. Against the backdrop of the city’s neon lights, her silhouette looked unbearably lonely.

I drifted closer. I watched as she reached into her clutch and pulled out something small and old. A worn-out charm. She clutched it tightly in her palm.

A keepsake. My mother’s keepsake.

After my mother died, Christine had snatched it right out of my hands. We’d fought viciously over it.

All these years, I’d assumed she’d thrown it away.

But she’d kept it. All this time.

Why did I go after Jack Jack?

The memories came flooding back, pulling me under into that suffocating, desperate summer.

The year I turned eighteen, Christine and Jack got engaged.

The Jack and Audrey families were well-matched in status, and Jack, as the Jack family's only son, made for a handsome enough match. To the outside world, it was perfect.

Only I knew the devil Jack truly was.

I’d seen it myself back in high school. He’d cornered a girl who confessed her feelings for him in the gym equipment room. With a basketball in hand, he hit her head—over and over. Her sobs and pleas were drowned out by his manic laughter.

"You think someone like you is worthy of liking me?" he’d sneered. "Disgusting."

That scene haunted my nightmares for years.

Christine was the moon in the sky—pure, untouchable. She had no idea of the darkness that walked the earth.

To secure the alliance, John painted Jack as a flawless prince. Christine believed every word.

She even started looking forward to the marriage.

I tried to warn her.

"Little sister, Jack isn’t a good man. Stay away from him." Blocking her bedroom doorway, I mustered every ounce of courage I had.

She just gave me a cold, dismissive look. "Audrey, what scheme are you plotting now? Can’t stand to see me happy, is that it? You think some pathetic lie will ruin my engagement?"

She didn’t believe me.

Not that I blamed her. Why would anyone trust the "mistress’s daughter"?

Helpless, I watched her walk step by step toward the abyss. My heart burned.

John was on the verge of running John's Group into the ground. He desperately needed the Jack family’s capital injection. Christine was his last lifeline. He didn’t care if Jack was man or monster.

I begged my father. I knelt before him, pleading with him to call off the engagement.

He just kicked me aside impatiently. "Get out! You have no say here! Your sister’s happiness is worth a thousand times your worthless life!"

That’s when I understood. No one could save Christine.

Except me.

If I couldn’t be the good one, I’d be the villain.

A thorough, shameless, wicked woman.

On the day of Christine’s engagement party, the hall was packed.

She wore a pristine white gown, beautiful as an angel.

I changed into my boldest red slip dress, applied heavy makeup, took a glass of red wine, and swayed over to Jack.

"Mr Jack," I raised my glass, smiling with practiced allure. "My sister is truly beautiful, isn’t she?"

Jack’s eyes locked onto me instantly.

Men like him are wired for conquest and thrill.

Christine was the sacred, untouchable ideal. I was the red rose offered up willingly, thorns and all.

He took the bait without hesitation.

I led him to an upstairs lounge.

He pinned me against the door, his breath hot, his eyes full of nothing but lust and possession.

"You little slut. I knew there was something about you. Just like your mother—born to tempt men."

Fighting down nausea, I wrapped my arms around his neck, whispering breathily in his ear. "So… who makes you feel more, me or my sister?"

He tore at my dress roughly, marking my skin with one humiliating bruise after another.

"Her? She’s a porcelain doll. Wooden. Nothing compared to the fire you’ve got."

Then the door was “conveniently” pushed open.

Christine stood in the doorway, her face as white as paper.

I could almost hear her heart shattering.

She saw Jack and me, clothes disheveled, tangled together. Her expression shifted from shock to disbelief, finally hardening into a hatred so deep it chilled the bone.

"Audrey… you…"

I broke free from Jack’s hold, deliberately straightening my rumpled dress, and met her gaze with a defiant smirk. "I’m sorry, little sister. Jack says he prefers my type."

*Smack!*

A sharp, stinging slap landed squarely on my cheek.

The pain was fiery.

But I smiled.

"Get out! Get out of this house!" she screamed, hysterical, tears streaming down her face like broken pearls.

That night, the Audrey household erupted into chaos.

The engagement was, of course, called off.

Jack was placed under house arrest by the Jack family. Christine bought a plane ticket the very next day and flew abroad. She didn’t return for five years.

As for me, John beat me half to death with his belt, then threw me out of the Audrey house like garbage.

I had succeeded.

In the most degrading way possible, I had destroyed her engagement and pushed her away from the devil.

The price was that she would hate me for the rest of her life.

What I didn’t know was that this was only the beginning of the nightmare.

The real hell was still waiting.

Jack's outburst at the banquet was like a stone tossed into the still waters of Christine's heart.

She began to change. No longer that flawless pianist, she would sit alone late into the night, lost in thought, staring for hours at old photos of us together.

As I followed her, I could feel the sadness and confusion radiating from her—sharp and clear.

Matthew noticed the shift. "Christine, are you still thinking about Jack?" he asked gently, draping a coat over her shoulders. "That scum isn't worth it."

Christine shook her head, her voice soft. "Matthew, I want to go back to the old mansion."

The Jiang Family Mansion: the place we grew up, and the source of all our nightmares. It had stood empty since I was thrown out and Christine went abroad.

Though puzzled, Matthew agreed to accompany her.

Inside, a thick layer of dust coated everything, as if time itself had frozen there.

Christine went straight upstairs and pushed open the door to my old room.

Small and dark, just like my mother, my room was unfit for public view. She moved slowly through the space, her fingers tracing the scratches on the desk, her eyes lingering on the few cheap clothes I hadn't been able to take with me, still hanging in the wardrobe.

Finally, her gaze settled on the nightstand.

There sat an ugly little wooden box, hand-made by my mother.

"What's this?" Matthew asked.

"I don't know," Christine murmured, walking over to pick it up.

She tried to open it, but found it locked.

Floating above them, a wave of panic washed over me. *The key… that key…*

As if remembering, Christine pulled open the nightstand drawer, her hand rummaging in the very back until her fingers closed around something small and rusted.

The key I'd hidden there all those years ago.

With a soft *click*, the box opened.

Inside were no jewels or treasures, just a few scattered items: a worn-out diary, a faded photo of me and my mother, and a small USB drive.

Christine picked up the diary and opened it to the first page.

It was filled with my fragmented thoughts and feelings: my jealousy of her, the suffocating weight of life in the Audrey household, my fear of the future, and… my terror of death.

The last entry was written after I was cast out.

*Today, I pushed Christine away. She must hate me now. Good. Hatred is better than falling into hell. Jack is a monster. I can't let her marry a monster. Father is useless. In this house, the only one who can protect her… is the villain. Me.*

*Little sister, be well. Forget me. Never come back.*

Christine's hands began to tremble. The diary slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor.