"Simon, I had no idea you were this shameless and heartless!"

"Won't admit it, huh? Still lying through your teeth? Then let's see just how stubborn you really are!"

She stood up and called in her bodyguards. They grabbed me and dragged me toward the stairs.

"Let go of me!"

They threw me straight into the basement freezer and locked the door behind them.

"Let me out!"

I pounded on the freezer door like a madman.

The only answer I got was her voice, cold and merciless from the other side:

"You won't confess? Fine. Let's see which gives out first—your life or your stubbornness."

"The second you admit what you did and get on your knees to apologize to Morris, I'll let you out!"

I slammed my fists against the door until my knuckles split, but no one came.

The temperature plummeted.

I slid to the ground, helpless, my body going numb as the cold seeped into my bones.

I didn't know how long I'd been in there when the freezer door finally opened.

I looked up and saw Morris rushing toward me, face full of concern, reaching down to help me to my feet.

"Hey, you okay? Come on, let's get you out of here! We need to get you to a hospital!"

I stared at the earnest worry on his face and felt something inside me crack apart.

"Morris, why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you? Why do you keep destroying my life?"

My voice broke.

If I had to choose who I hated more—between Sylvia and Morris—it was Morris. Every time.

We'd grown up together. We were supposed to be brothers. Best friends since childhood.

I'd stepped in front of him when a senior tried to slap him around, took the hit meant for his face.

He'd slung his arm around my shoulders afterward and told me we'd be brothers for life.

And yet this was the same person who, time after time, had driven a knife straight into my heart.

Morris put on a wounded, wronged expression.

"I was just worried you were being deceived by that woman. All I wanted was to help you find a wife who actually loves you and trusts you!"

I shoved his hand away, tears streaming down my face.

"You're not looking out for me! Every single time, all you do is hurt me!"

Morris blinked at me with those guileless eyes.

"Okay, okay. You're right. I was wrong. But let's get you to a hospital first."

He hauled me up by force—my legs could barely hold me—and pushed me into a car.

The car didn't go to the hospital. It pulled up to a hotel. I stared at him, every nerve on edge.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

He just smiled, something secretive flickering across his face, and dragged my weakened body into a room.

The door swung open. Inside stood a group of burly men with leering, repulsive faces.

Morris let out a sudden shriek, ripped his own shirt, smashed his own forehead against the doorframe until blood ran down his face, and bolted out of the room.

"I'm sorry! Please, Mr. Sawyer, I won't fight you for her! I won't compete with you for anything! Please stop hitting me!"

Every instinct screamed danger. I forced my body upright, trying to grab him.

Before I could even steady myself, the door was kicked open from the outside.

Sylvia took one look at me, then at the thugs standing behind me.

Her eyes went red instantly.

Her palm cracked across my face.

"Simon! Do you have a death wish?!"

"Not only won't you repent for what you've done, now you're trying to get revenge on Morris?! You were actually going to ruin him! How can you be this vicious?!"

"I didn't do anything!"

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.

"Morris is the one who opened the freezer! He brought me here!"

"Enough! You and I are the only ones who know the passcode to that freezer! There's no way Morris could have opened it! You obviously snuck out and dragged Morris here yourself!"

Sylvia's jaw clenched, her teeth grinding together.

"So that's how it is. Threatening your own life won't make you bend. Then let's see if your mother's life will."

My eyes went wide.

"What are you going to do?!"

Sylvia gave the order without hesitation.

"Throw Simon's mother out of the hospital. No one touches her case."

"No!"

I collapsed at her feet, sobbing.

"I'll apologize! You want me to apologize to Morris? I'll do it! Just don't touch my mother!"

"Too late."

Sylvia's voice was ice.

"When Morris wakes up and forgives you, that's when I'll let someone deal with your mother. Not a second before."

I looked toward Morris, still cradled in her arms, and caught him snapping his eyes shut. Pretending to be unconscious.

Desperation drove my forehead to the floor. Again. And again.

"I'm begging you, Sylvia. Do whatever you want to me. Anything. Just leave my mother alone."

"Morris, I've given you everything you ever asked for! Can't you just let us go?!"

The only answer was Sylvia's back as she walked away, her voice trailing behind her like a verdict.

"Watch him. Keep him on his knees. If he tries to stand, break his legs."

One hour. Two hours.

I knelt there, crying, praying that Morris would have a shred of mercy left in him, that he'd wake up and stop Sylvia.

What I got instead was a phone call from Sylvia's assistant. Cold. Clinical.

"I'm sorry, sir. Your mother has passed away. Since you weren't present to sign for the body, we've already sent her remains to the processing facility."

"No!"

The scream tore out of me. Blood followed, pouring from my mouth in thick, dark waves.

The bodyguards received a message from Sylvia. They hauled me off the ground.

"Miss Fox is hosting a birthday party for Mr. Harding tonight. She wants you cleaned up and on your knees at the venue to apologize. You're his birthday present."

I followed them like a dead man walking. Into the car. Back to the house. Into the bedroom to get ready.

They waited outside.

Minutes passed. Then more minutes. I never came out.

They kicked the bedroom door open.

I was gone.

All that remained was a beautifully wrapped gift box sitting on the bed.

Sylvia wore a smile as she watched the man in front of her blow out his candles.

But irritation gnawed at her beneath the surface.

Simon still hadn't shown up.

She'd scared him enough, hadn't she? All she wanted was for him to apologize to Morris, to put a period at the end of all the wrongs he'd committed. Was that really so much to ask?

Her agitation was reaching its peak when a bodyguard rushed into the room.

Sylvia's eyes lit up. Then dimmed the moment she scanned the space behind him and found no trace of Simon.

"Where is he?!"

The bodyguards were drenched in cold sweat. One of them held out the gift box with trembling hands.

"This is his gift, ma'am. He said to open it."