“I’m not trying to hurt him!” I yelled, my throat raw, hands lifted in surrender while Delilah shrieked like I was some kind of threat.

“She’s lying!” Delilah sobbed, throwing herself over the crib as though I were about to attack. “She reached for him—she’s completely unstable!”

“I only wanted to—”

“Enough!” my mother-in-law snapped, slicing through my words. “I’m done with your performances, Eleanor. You’ve been acting deranged ever since my son passed away.”

Deranged. That was what she called the panic of a mother who saw a child that looked exactly like the baby stolen from her arms.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt him—”

“Take her downstairs,” Lucinda ordered, her voice glacial as she turned to the staff. “Lock her in the basement.”

The words didn’t register at first. “What did you just say?”

Nathaniel—still hiding behind Harold’s name—hesitated only briefly. I searched his face for the man who once protected me, the one who promised never to let anyone hurt me.

Instead, he murmured, “It’s better this way. She needs to cool off.”

Something inside my chest collapsed.

Two employees seized my arms. I fought, twisting wildly, my screams echoing down the hall. “Please! I didn’t do anything! You can’t do this!” But I was nothing to them. Just another problem to be removed.

The door slammed shut behind me, plunging me into darkness.

The basement reeked of rot and damp stone. My feet slid over gritty concrete, then over something soft that scurried away. The sound of insects skittering made my skin crawl. Somewhere close, a rat shrieked.

I pressed my back against the wall, hugging myself, shaking so hard my teeth rattled.

Then pain exploded in my ankle.

I looked down just in time to glimpse a thick coil sliding away into the shadows.

I don’t remember falling. Only screaming.

When I opened my eyes again, the world smelled of disinfectant. A nurse hovered over me, her voice calm.

“You’re fortunate,” she said. “It was a venomous bite. If you’d arrived any later, it could’ve been fatal.”

My lips were dry as sand. “How did I get here?”

“The butler called emergency services,” she replied. “But you need to rest.”

Rest. After being tossed into a basement like garbage.

I scanned the room for any familiar face, but she answered my question before I could ask.

“No one has visited you.”

By the time I was released, my body was weak but my resolve was solid. I would never go back to that house and bow my head again.

At the gate, the butler was waiting.

“They’re all attending an auction tonight, ma’am,” he said stiffly.

“Auction?”

“Yes. Miss Delilah is hosting a charity event.”

Charity. I nearly laughed out loud.

The hall buzzed with perfume, gossip, and money. Crystal chandeliers shimmered above crowds wrapped in silk and diamonds. Onstage, Delilah stood radiant in red, smiling into a microphone as one of her paintings was wheeled out.

“This is my most meaningful work,” she said sweetly. “I hope someone here will treasure it.”

Bids flew. Numbers soared. She basked in admiration.

But I was done letting her have the spotlight.

I walked forward, heels striking the marble, and took the microphone from the startled auctioneer.

“I’d like to contribute an additional item,” I announced. “A Carrington family heirloom.”

The room rippled with whispers.

I slid my wedding ring free. “This was given to me by Nathaniel Carrington. Its value is beyond measure—but tonight, its price will be higher than money.” I met their eyes steadily. “Whoever purchases this ring… will become my future husband.”

The silence was deafening.

Across the room, Nathaniel’s face drained of color.

The ring vanished to the highest bidder, and with it went the last thread tying me to that man.

Nathaniel cornered me moments later. “Are you insane? That ring represented everything my brother gave you! Do you have any idea what you just threw away?”

“Why does it matter to you?” I asked coolly. “You’re not him.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m his family—”

“Your brother is gone,” I said. “And I’ve buried the woman who loved him.”

I walked away.

Delilah followed me outside, ripping my hair back in fury. “You selfish witch! You stole my night!”

I tore her hand free and laughed, hollow and bitter.

“Enjoy the spotlight, Delilah. I won’t be here to compete with you anymore.”

By the time I reached the house, my lungs still felt too tight, like I’d been breathing smoke instead of air. I had barely stepped inside when Lucinda rushed at me, her face flushed with fury.

“Did you really sell off Nathaniel’s belongings?” she snapped. “His ring, his bike, the aircraft—everything that carried his name?”

“I did,” I replied without emotion. “All of it went to auction.”

Her mouth fell open. “Do you even understand what you just threw away? Those were assets worth millions. That wealth belongs to the Carrington family!”

“He was my husband,” I said coolly. “Those things were mine to decide on.”

Her voice dropped. “Then where is the money?”

“I gave it away,” I said. “Every cent. Donated.”

The room went silent, the kind of stillness that buzzes in your ears before a storm. Then her hand was in my hair, yanking my head back until pain tore through my scalp.

“You vile little ingrate!” she screamed. “So this is who you really are. You’ve been pretending all these years!”

I clenched my jaw and stared straight back at her. “You’re the one pretending. You played the loving mother, acted like you cared about me—”

Her slap came so hard my vision burst with light.

Then another. And another. The blows kept coming. By the fifth, my ears were roaring. By the tenth, I could taste blood. She didn’t stop until she’d struck me over and over, until I couldn’t even keep count anymore.

All the while, Nathaniel—hiding behind his brother’s name—stood nearby and watched.

“She deserves it,” he said flatly. “Delilah told me everything. How you ruined the auction and tried to hurt her. You even stole the spotlight from her painting.”

My legs finally gave way. I collapsed onto the floor, palms pressed to the carpet, breath tearing painfully through my chest. No one moved to help. No one intervened.

It didn’t matter. This would be the last time.

Later, as I lay on the bed trying to recover, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was a message from Adrian.

Everything is set. I’ll come for you tomorrow. Wrap up whatever you still need to do.

My thumbs hovered before replying: There’s just one more thing. After that, I’ll leave with you.

I dropped the phone, only noticing the shadow by the door when I turned my head.

Nathaniel was leaning against the frame, arms folded. “Who were you texting?”

“It doesn’t concern you,” I said.

His eyes darkened. “Is it the guy who bought the ring? Tell me his name. I’ll buy it back.”

I laughed softly, without humor. “Why would you? It was never yours to begin with.”

“I’m doing it for my brother,” he insisted. “You’re really going to remarry instead of staying here? You could live with us, help with the baby, be a proper aunt—with Delilah.”

I studied him, then let out a short laugh. “Your brother is dead. Our marriage died with him. I don’t belong here anymore.”

He stared at the suitcase by the wall. “You’re leaving?”

Before I could answer, Delilah screamed from downstairs. “Nathaniel! Something’s wrong with Leo!”

His face drained of color. “Our son!”

I stayed where I was.

He snatched his keys. “Don’t you dare disappear, Eleanor. We’re not done talking. You’re not marrying anyone else.” His words were sharp with command as he rushed out with Delilah.

The door slammed.

I picked up my phone immediately.

Take the baby. That’s the final step. Once they believe I’m dead, everything will end.

Adrian replied almost instantly: Got it. I’ll take care of it. Be ready.

I dragged my suitcase into the hall, every step feeling like breaking free of chains. Outside, a taxi idled at the curb.

I didn’t look back.

---

Nathaniel

The smell of disinfectant burned my nose as I paced the hospital corridor. Delilah’s sobs drifted from the room, while Leo’s cries had weakened to a raspy whimper. Doctors were still running tests, and my heart felt like it was splitting apart.

My phone buzzed. Irritated, I answered without checking the screen. “What is it? I’m busy.”

“Sir…” the butler’s voice came through, shaking.

“I said I—”

“Sir, please listen. There’s been an accident.” He swallowed. “Miss Eleanor was in a car crash.”

I stopped cold. “What are you saying?”

A long pause. Then, barely audible:

“She didn’t make it.”

Nathaniel froze, the phone pressed so tightly against his ear that his knuckles whitened.

“Are you trying to make some kind of joke?” His voice came out sharp, almost threatening. “Did she pay you to say that?”

On the other end, the butler sounded rattled. “No, sir… I wouldn’t dare. Miss Eleanor… she was in a car crash. She’s gone.”

“No, impossible! Why would she be in a car crash when I told her to wait at home?” He was fuming.

“Well,” the butler sighed. “We’re not sure, but we think that she was going somewhere because she brought a lot of her things.”

Nathaniel's jaw clenched, ready to snap back, when a second call came in. Without even saying goodbye, he switched lines.

“This is Officer Landers. Are you related to a Eleanor Carrington?”

Nathaniel’s instinct was to say I’m her husband. The words almost slipped out—until reality slammed back into him. His lies. His carefully built façade. He couldn’t risk it.

“I’m… her brother-in-law,” he said instead. The words felt foreign in his mouth, acidic.

The officer’s tone was grim. “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve recovered ashes and several personal belongings from the crash site. The body… it’s unrecognizable because the car exploded after collision.”

For a moment, Nathaniel’s entire body went numb. “No,” he said sharply. “Impossible. How? Are you pranking me? Did she get you in this so we pay her attention?”

“No, Sir. Of course not,” he denied. “If you want to confirm, then go to the crime scene in Lake Shore. We all have the evidence to prove it was her.”

Nathaniel didn’t hear the rest. He was already moving—grabbing his jacket, his phone still in his hand, striding for the door with a speed that made the butler step back.

In the hallway, Delilah appeared, her face pinched with confusion. “What’s happening? Where are you going?”

“I need to get to Eleanor.” The words came out clipped, urgent.

Her eyes widened, shock morphing into anger. “Are you insane? Why would you—”

But he was already past her, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Delilah’s frustration only deepened when her phone buzzed. The hospital doctor was on the line, requesting her presence immediately.

She arrived at Leo’s room moments later, finding the baby squirming in his crib, tiny fists waving in distress.

“We need to monitor him,” the doctor explained. “He refuses to take milk. We may need you to breastfeed for now—he needs the nutrients.”

Delilah recoiled. “I don’t want to.”

The doctor’s brow furrowed.

Realizing how suspicious she must sound, Delilah forced a sudden, sugary smile. “Oh… right. I’ll try. You can leave us.”

Once the door shut, her demeanor flipped like a switch.

“You damn baby,” she hissed, leaning over the crib. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t be sick. And you certainly can’t die. Do you hear me? There is no way I’m letting Harold walk away from me. You are my leverage—even if you’re not mine.”

The baby’s cries grew louder, shriller. Delilah’s frustration spiked.

No one knew the truth—that her pregnancy had been faked from the beginning. That Leo was never hers.

“Nurse!” she barked, throwing open the door. “Feed her—I can’t stop the crying. And make sure she lives, or you’ll regret it.”

While the nurse took the baby, Delilah called the driver. “I want to know where Nathaniel went and why he ran off without telling me.”

There was a pause before the driver said, “It might have to do with Miss Eleanor.”

“Yes, I know that—” Delilah’s voice sharpened. “That’s why I want to know why he’s in such a hurry. Why he’s choosing her over me—”

“Ma’am,” the driver interrupted quietly, “Miss Eleanor… she’s dead.”

Delilah froze, stunned for only a heartbeat before a slow, delighted smile spread across her face. Then, laughter—high, sharp, and cruel—spilled out.

“Dead? Really?” She tilted her head, savoring the thought. “Then let’s go see her and then celebrate.”

By the time Delilah was en route, Nathaniel was already at the crash site.

The air was thick with the stench of burned metal and smoke. The twisted remains of the vehicle lay crumpled against the scorched earth, barely recognizable as a car.

An officer led him toward the remains they had recovered. “We can’t identify her by sight,” the man explained. “But these were found at the scene.”

One by one, they showed him her possessions—a charred handbag, a half-melted phone, the faint outline of a familiar scarf.

And then… the necklace.

The necklace he had given her once, years ago, when promises still meant something between them. The sight of it ripped through him, stealing the air from his lungs.

He remembered his promise, “I will love you for the rest of my life. You are the only one for me, and I promise to make you happy forever.”

Nathaniel’s knees buckled. He sank to the ground, his palms pressing into the dirt as though he could steady the earth beneath him. “No,” he rasped. “No, I won’t accept this. This isn’t her.”

The officer hesitated, then handed him a document. “We ran fingerprints on the recovered items. They matched Eleanor Carrington.”

Nathaniel’s head lowered. For the first time in years, the world felt like it had dropped out from under him. His heartbeat was a dull, punishing drum in his ears.

He didn’t notice the murmurs of the officers nearby. He didn’t see the way Delilah’s car rolled up in the distance.

He just stood there, staring at the ashes in the metal tray, his expression unreadable—but his grip on the necklace so tight it left angry red marks in his palm.

“Eleanor, please…” he muttered. “Tell me this is just a joke.”