The moment his words reached me, my chest tightened painfully.

Once, I had been locked in a storage unit by a rival company. Everyone thought I’d been careless, but he had searched the city for me, found me, pulled me into his arms, and whispered words I thought I’d never forget—

“It’s okay. I’m here.”

Back then, I let myself believe he might care for me. That maybe he even loved me.

But now?

Now I knew better.

He didn’t care. He never had.

He punished me without even asking for the truth. He chose her—every damn time.

“Don’t touch me!” I tried to break free, desperate, and when his grip only tightened, I sank my teeth into his hand until he cursed and let go.

His face darkened, but instead of arguing, he simply started the car.

When we reached his penthouse, he didn’t give me a choice. He scooped me up, carried me inside like I weighed nothing, and dropped me on the velvet couch.

I shot to my feet, ready to scream, when he pressed a warm sandwich into my hands.

“Eat,” he ordered flatly. “You’ve got work after this.”

I shoved it away. “I don’t need your pity. Stay the hell away from me.”

His lips curled into something between a smirk and a threat as he leaned close, one hand braced beside my head. “Stay away? Tell me, sweetheart—could you really?”

The words sliced through me, because he was right. Once, I couldn’t. Once, I was his no matter how much it burned.

But now? Now it only made me hate him more.

I forced myself to look away, jaw clenched.

For a long moment, he studied my face, then asked quietly, “Why didn’t you defend yourself today? You weren’t the one at fault.”

My breath caught. He’d seen?

But the bitter laugh tore from me before I could stop it.

“What good would it do? No one believes me. They never have. And they never will.”

“I would.”

Two small words. Soft. Steady. Like a promise.

I froze, but then the reality came crashing back, cold and merciless. His version of “believing me” was throwing me into a freezing hell for something I hadn’t done.

His belief was worth nothing.

Then came the blade that twisted deeper:

“But Elena is still your sister. She’s kind. Gentle. Why do you hold such hatred for her?”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

“Stay out of my life.”

Shoving him back, I stormed upstairs and slammed the door.

He didn’t follow. Not that day.

Instead, it was Elena who came slithering into my phone screen with her texts and photos.

He walked her through the bustling art fair, pointing out details I had once described to him first.

Later, they ducked into a quiet café, leaning close over steaming cups, his laughter soft and intimate.

By the time they stepped outside, the autumn breeze had him draping his scarf around her shoulders.

Every gesture, every glance, every small touch—I had imagined them with me, not her.

He had never done any of that for me. Not once.

I curled under the blanket, clutching my phone so hard it hurt. My flight was already booked. Just two more weeks. Two weeks and I’d be free of this nightmare.

The next morning, I left early, nerves raw. Today was everything. My thesis defense. My chance to prove myself.

But the universe wasn’t done with me.

He was waiting by the car.

“Get in.”

I turned away. “I’ll walk.”

His hand closed around my arm, shoving me into the seat with a strength that made my bones ache.

“You want me to drag you in front of everyone and make you late?”

The threat was real, sharp as glass. I sat still, heart hammering.

I couldn’t afford to be late today. Not when I’d poured blood and sleepless nights into this work.

But fate was cruel.

When it was finally my turn, I froze.

Because Elena was standing at the podium before me, smiling sweetly, her slides glowing across the giant screen.

And they weren’t just similar to mine.

They were mine.

My research. My analysis. My words.

Everything I had worked for, stolen and displayed as hers.

“This thesis,” she said brightly, “is the product of years of effort. I am honored to present it—”

“Stop!” My voice cracked through the silence. I shot to my feet, fury shaking every nerve. “That’s my thesis. She plagiarized me!”

Gasps rippled across the hall.

Elena turned, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Isabella… what are you saying? This is my work. You can’t accuse me without proof.”

“You lying snake!” My chest burned as I spun toward him—toward the only man who knew the truth. He’d seen me draft it. He’d given me notes. He knew.

But his face was blank, voice cool and condemning.

“Isabella, this isn’t the time. Don’t cause a scene.”

My world collapsed with those words.

He silenced me. For her. Again.

Whispers broke out behind me.

“She’s always been arrogant.”

“Typical. Trying to steal credit when she has none.”

“Thank god the elder sister is here to save the family’s name.”

Elena’s gaze locked with mine, a flash of triumph glittering there as she turned back to the committee.

“Shall we continue?”

Something inside me snapped.

I walked forward, calm as ice.

Lifted a glass of water from the desk.

And before anyone could stop me, I slammed it down on her laptop.

Water exploded across the table. Gasps filled the hall.

The crash of the water on Elena’s laptop silenced the entire hall.

She let out a sharp scream and stumbled straight into Adrian’s arms. “Adrian, I—I’m scared…”

He pulled her close instantly, his hand stroking her shoulder, eyes snapping to me like shards of ice.

“Isabella Russo,” he said, voice hard as steel, “I told you to sit down and let her continue. If you keep this up, don’t blame me for what happens next.”

My chest constricted. He never called me by my full name—unless he meant to wound.

But instead of cowering, I laughed, the sound bitter.

“You said this thesis was yours, didn’t you, Elena? Then prove it. If you really wrote it, you should be able to present every detail without your precious laptop.”

Color drained from her face, but she clutched Adrian’s sleeve with trembling fingers. “There’s too much data, I… I can’t remember it all…”

“Then let me help refresh your memory.”

I turned toward the committee, my voice clear and steady.

“First section: a summary of the migration patterns recorded across the North American and Southeast Asian regions…”

Pages rustled. Professors bent over their copies of the thesis.

“Second section: detailed genetic sequencing results. Sample population—1,193. Success rate—92.4 percent. Anomalies catalogued—forty-nine. The full statistical variance ratio is exactly 2.39155622…”

Gasps echoed around the room as I continued, laying out line after line of figures, each one a perfect match.

By the time I finished, the room was silent. Even those who’d sneered at me earlier now looked at me with something like respect.

And Elena? She was pale, trembling, eyes darting wildly as if searching for an escape.

“So,” I said coolly, turning back to her, “now that everyone knows exactly whose research this is, maybe you’d like to explain yourself, thief.”

Her knees nearly buckled. But before she could speak, Adrian was on his feet, slipping an arm around her to hold her steady. His glare cut through me like a blade.

“Isabella, enough. You’ve disrupted this defense long enough. Security—remove her.”

My nails dug into my palms until blood threatened to break skin.

“What? I was defending my work! I’m the one whose thesis was stolen, and you’re throwing me out?”

“Take her out.” His voice cracked like a whip.

“Miss Russo, please don’t make this harder,” the guard muttered, stepping toward me.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, wrenching free, tears burning in my eyes as I glared at Adrian. “You bastard. You can’t even tell right from wrong!”

But he didn’t even look at me. His only concern was the trembling woman clinging to him.

And the triumphant spark in Elena’s eyes as I was dragged away pierced me deeper than any blade.

I laughed then. Low. Broken. My vision blurred.

“Fine. I’ll leave myself.”

My ankle twisted as the guard released me, pain lancing through my leg, but I forced my spine straight, chin high, and walked out one step at a time.

Straight into his office.

I yanked the stack of magazines off the shelf, sending them tumbling across the floor with a loud crash. Papers scattered, coffee mugs teetered and clattered to the ground. My hands trembled, chest heaving, as I kicked at the pile, each thud echoing my frustration.

I collapsed into the only untouched armchair, hair disheveled, cheeks burning.

When Adrian finally entered, his expression didn’t change—not a flicker of surprise. Just that faint, almost indulgent shake of the head he reserved for children throwing tantrums. He closed the door behind him with infuriating calm.

“Feel better now, princess?”

I lifted my eyes to his, a cold smile tugging at my lips. “What’s wrong? Not running back to comfort the thief who stole my research?”

“She’s your sister,” he said sharply, jaw tight. “Do you have to be so vicious? Even if she made mistakes, you didn’t need to humiliate her in front of everyone.”

I laughed, bitter and raw. “And you didn’t need to protect her while letting them spit on me.”

“You’re a grown woman, Isabella. Control your temper. Stop acting like a child.”

My stomach turned. God, how had I ever loved this man?

But it didn’t matter anymore. Not for long.

My phone buzzed on the table. A new notification lit up the screen before I could stop it.

[Your flight has been confirmed. Please find attached your ticket and seat number.]

My heart lurched. I reached for it too late.

His eyes narrowed, voice dropping to a lethal chill.

“Flight? What flight? Where the hell are you going?”

“None of your business.”

I reached for my phone, but Adrian was faster. His hand snatched it out of mine with the speed of a predator.

“Give it back!” I lunged for it, but he caught my wrist, his grip tightening until I winced.

“Let go!”

“Tell me the truth. That ticket you booked—where are you running off to?” His dark eyes burned into me like gunmetal.

I raised my chin. “The Maldives. With a male escort. Satisfied?”

The silence that followed was brief and lethal. Adrian’s jaw flexed; his laugh was sharp and hollow.

“A male escort? Cute. I see I’ve been far too lenient with you.”

Dread surged through me. I turned to bolt, but he dragged me back, slamming me against the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of his office.

“Adrian!” Panic cut through my voice as his fingers slid down the back of my dress, tugging at the zipper with brutal precision. Cool air hit my skin. “You’ve lost your mind—this is your office—”

“So what?” His mouth brushed my ear, voice low, dangerous. “Not the first time.”

Pinned between him and the glass, my pulse raced like a trapped bird. The city stretched out beyond us, the skyline glittering. Anyone could look up and see silhouettes—my silhouette.

“Stop!” I gasped, fighting his hold, nails pressing into his arm.

But he wasn’t aiming for gentleness. He pressed harder, keeping me caged, his lips trailing heat down my neck. His dominance was suffocating, but laced with a brutal kind of desire.

“Adrian, someone will see us!”

“That’s the point,” he murmured against my skin, his breath scorching. “You provoke me, you take the punishment.”

His hands forced me to surrender inch by inch, stripping away the illusion of control I clung to. I fought not to make a sound, biting my lip until I tasted blood.

But he knew exactly how to break me. My body betrayed me, arching against the cold glass, nails scraping down in helpless resistance. The sound made my stomach twist in humiliation. Outside, people moved through the corridor—shadows, blurs. Did they see? Did they know?

Tears blurred my vision. My heart cracked with something sharper than fear. Why? Why was Elena treated like a jewel to be polished, protected… while I was nothing but a pawn to be disciplined, humiliated, used?

The answer was in his merciless grip, the heat of his mouth, the way he claimed me until I shattered. My strength drained away. When my knees buckled, he caught me easily, pulling the zipper back up with one swift motion.

“Relax,” Adrian whispered, softer now. “The glass is one-way. Soundproof. No one saw. No one heard.”

The sting of his words was worse than the act.

Crack!

My palm struck his cheek, sharp and furious. My voice trembled with rage, eyes brimming red.

“You’re a bastard, Adrian Moretti!”

I staggered toward the door, legs weak, pride in tatters. He didn’t stop me this time.

Thank God he didn’t push about the ticket. If he had, with his obsession for control, I knew he’d have gone even further.

Clutching my phone like a lifeline, I stepped onto the street, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But there she was—Elena—leaning casually against a sleek, cherry-red sports car, keys twirling around her manicured fingers.

“Look what Adrian got me,” she said, voice sweet but sharp, eyes glinting. “Limited edition. Only one in the world.”

My stomach churned.

“Want a ride, sis?” she purred, stepping closer, her perfume sharp and suffocating in the cold air.

I forced a humorless laugh. “No thanks. I can’t stand the smell of desperation.”

Her mask snapped. Sweetness twisted into venom. “You think words can save you? Soon enough, everyone will see the real you—worthless.”

I spat back, fury blazing. “Perfect. That family deserves someone just like you.”

Her eyes flared. She grabbed my arm. “Say that again—I dare you!”

A sudden screech of tires made us both jump. A car, out of control, skidded toward us, metal grinding against asphalt. Elena froze, a scream tearing from her throat. My heart lurched—I lunged instinctively—but everything slowed as chaos swallowed the street.

And then—I saw him. Adrian, sprinting across the asphalt, eyes wide with urgency. But not toward me.

His arms wrapped around Elena, yanking her out of the car’s path just in time. The car slammed down where I had been standing.

Pain exploded through me as I stumbled back, skidding across the pavement, scraped and bruised. My chest heaved. I barely breathed as the vehicle’s echoing crash faded.

Adrian held her close, his face taut with worry—for her alone. Not once did his gaze flick toward me.

And all I could do was watch, frozen in disbelief.

Elena’s lips curved into a victorious smile over his shoulder. She didn’t need words. Her expression said it all.

See? You’ve lost again.

A broken laugh slipped past my lips, tangled with tears and blood. The taste of iron and betrayal filled my mouth as the darkness closed in.

And then—I let go.