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.

The first thing I registered when I opened my eyes was silence.

I was alive—but barely. My body ached, seared with pain, as if every rib had been splintered. The room was empty, sterile, lonely.

From the hall outside, I heard whispers.

“That man… God, he’s gorgeous. The way he hovered over his girlfriend, so tender, so protective…”

“I know. And for just a sprained ankle, too. Her parents won’t leave her side. Meanwhile, this poor girl in here—broken, bleeding—and not a soul visits her.”

The words sliced me open more cruelly than the chandelier had.

I yanked the IV from my arm and dragged myself down the corridor, clinging to the wall.

At the VIP ward, I stopped cold.

Behind the glass doors, Adrian sat by Elena’s bed, adjusting her pillows, murmuring soft questions.

My father poured her water, blowing gently before holding the glass to her lips. My mother dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief, cooing like she was the crown jewel of the family.

Elena pouted, smiled, let them adore her.

The sight stole my breath. The pain in my chest was sharper than any broken bone.

I told myself not to cry. I tilted my head back, forcing the tears down. No one here would care.

No one ever had.

When Adrian finally came to me later, he looked worn, shadows bruising his eyes. “Are you in pain?” he asked quietly, gaze flicking over me with unusual tension.

If this had been before, I might have demanded why he saved her instead of me. Screamed, begged, clawed at him until I got an answer.

But now—I turned my face away. Silent.

He frowned, mistaking my stillness for exhaustion. He said nothing else.

For days, he lingered, postponing business to sit in my room. But I stayed quiet. Ate when told. Slept when I could. Waited.

Waited for my chance to leave.

Three days before my discharge, I stepped out onto the balcony, craving air. That’s when I heard it.

Elena’s voice. Sweet and low, drifting around the corner.

“…Don’t worry. They treat me like a princess now. They’ll never figure it out. The real Elena’s been dead for years…”

My blood ran cold——Her words mean she's not my sister? She's an impostor!

I turned the corner, rage igniting every nerve.

She froze, phone still in her hand. Then her eyes narrowed, a flash of calculation behind them. “What are you doing here?”

“You—” My vision blurred red. “You impostor. You’re not Elena. You’re a fucking fraud!”

Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “So what if I am? You found out—good. Then let’s make this interesting.”

Before I could move, her voice rose, shrill, rehearsed. “Sister, I only came to check on you! Why would you—No, don’t hit me—ah!”

And with a theatrical gasp, she hurled herself down the stairwell.

The sickening thud of her body hitting the marble floor below echoed through the ward.

Gasps filled the hall. Heads turned—toward me.

I froze. My father’s and mother’s eyes burned into mine, blazing with fury.

“Adrian!” my mother screamed.

He was already there, scooping Elena into his arms like she was made of porcelain. His gaze met mine over her trembling body—cold as a blade.

I staggered back.

“No—she’s lying! She’s not my sister!” My voice shook, raw with desperation. “She’s a fraud—an impostor—”

“Shut up!” My father’s roar cut me off.

The whispers from the family’s soldiers around us were sharp as knives:

“Christ, she tried to kill her own sister.”

“How vicious can one woman be?”

“She’s unhinged. Ungrateful. Needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Bring the whip,” my father ordered, voice shaking with rage. “Restrain her.”

Hands grabbed me, rough, unyielding. I fought, kicked, screamed. “Let me go! Listen to me—she’s not Elena! She’s not—”

No one listened.

Every pair of eyes around me glared with contempt. Every word was poison, every whisper a knife carving deeper into my already-broken heart.

And Adrian—he walked away with her in his arms.

Without a single glance back.