His gaze raked across the room, cold and imperious. "Let me be clear. Once you walk out this door, if a single word of this reaches Savannah Simmons, don't expect me to honor our past ties."

I sagged against the corridor wall, the cold plaster seeping through my clothes. My extremities went numb, as if the blood had simply stopped flowing.

So that was it. The five years I had traded my life for were nothing more than a meticulously orchestrated punishment.

My future, my dignity—all it took was a slight frown from Stella for them to be discarded. In Sebastian's eyes, sacrificing me was simply how things should be.

A laugh bubbled in my chest, but it choked off, replaced by the metallic tang of copper rising in my throat.

A phone shrilled inside the private room. Footsteps approached the door.

Panic seized me. I spun around to flee, only to collide hard with a solid mass—the manager delivering more alcohol.

The tray tipped. The bottle—a rare vintage reserved exclusively for the Fort Valor Military District—crashed to the floor. The sound of shattering glass was deafening.

The manager's face drained of color, then twisted into rage. Before I could apologize, his hand cracked across my face.

The door to the private room swung open.

Sebastian strode out. He didn't even glance at the commotion. His attention was solely on the figure launching herself at him. He opened his arms, catching Stella as she threw herself into his embrace.

"Why did you come back alone? I told you I'd pick you up," he murmured, his voice dropping to a gentle timbre I hadn't heard in years.

"I missed you! I wanted to surprise you!" Stella's laughter was bright, brittle, piercing.

I knelt on the freezing marble, hidden behind a face mask, less than a meter away.

The diamonds encrusting Stella's wristwatch caught the light, stabbing into my reddened eyes. Just one of those tiny stones could cover Sebastian's imported medicine for three months.

"General James, I am terribly sorry," the manager stammered, bowing low. "This clumsy idiot smashed the liquor."

Polished black military boots halted in front of my face.

Sebastian frowned, impatience radiating from him. "Enough."

He pointed a gloved finger at me. "You broke it. You clean it. Pick the shards out of the carpet with your hands. If Stella steps on even a fragment, I'll make you swallow the rest piece by piece."

I lowered myself further, pressing my palm against the soaked carpet. I began to crawl, hunting for glass.

Shards bit into my skin, leaving fine, bloody trails in their wake.

Stella hissed softly, clinging to Sebastian's arm. "My feet hurt."

"Spoiled girl. I'll carry you. It's filthy here."

He scooped her up. His heavy boot came down on the back of my hand, crushing it against the floor as he stepped over me without breaking stride.

I remained on the floor, staring at my mangled hand. A low, broken laugh escaped me.

Tears mingled with the warm, metallic fluid gushing from my nose, dripping onto the ruined carpet together.

The manager recoiled. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're bleeding everywhere."

I staggered upright, wiping my face messily with my sleeve. The fabric turned instantly crimson.

"Maybe... I'm just dying."

Ignoring his stunned expression, I turned away. Blood dripped behind me, forming a broken red line as I dragged myself toward the exit.

When I pushed open the front door, the crash of shattering porcelain echoed from the kitchen.

Sebastian was on the floor, struggling to drag his body toward his overturned wheelchair.

He froze when he saw me. His head dipped, eyes instantly rimmed with red. "Savvy... I just wanted to warm some milk for you... I'm useless... nothing but a cripple..."

His speech was slurred, saliva trailing from the corner of his mouth. Between the trembling hands and the look of utter despair, he was the picture of an ALS patient in terminal decline.

I stared at him, remembering the man he used to be. The one with severe OCD who polished his sidearm three times a day and wouldn't tolerate a single crease in his uniform.

Yet for Stella, he had performed this humiliating, sloppy charade for five long years.

I should take a knife. Cut open his chest just to see if his heart is actually made of stone.

When I didn't answer, his shoulders slumped. "Savvy... am I disgusting to you now? Go... don't worry about me."

Silence stretched between us. Finally, I walked over, righted the wheelchair, and hoisted him back into the seat.

I returned with a basin of warm water, silently wiping the grime from his skin.

His fingers clamped around my wrist. His gaze locked onto my palm—raw, abraded, bloody. "How did this happen? Who hurt you?"

I studied the concern in his eyes. It looked so real.

"Someone who looks exactly like you," I said softly. "At The Regent Hotel."

Sebastian's jaw tightened. The muscles in his neck corded.

I forced a smile. "But I know that wasn't you. You would never lie to me, right?"

His eyes darted away, then returned—overly earnest. "Of course. You're the most important person in my life, Savvy. I would never deceive you."

The sting of unshed tears burned my throat. I swallowed it, pulled my hand free, and wheeled him out of the kitchen.

After dinner was served, the living room stayed empty.

The bedroom door stood ajar. A hushed voice drifted out.

"Stella, behave. I've prepared a huge surprise for tomorrow. I'll celebrate your birthday personally."

On the other end, Stella's voice was sugary, whining. "But tomorrow... isn't that my sister's birthday too? If you don't stay with her, won't she be sad?"

"Silly girl. You're my treasure. Savvy stopped celebrating years ago. She's used to it."

Stella squealed with delight. "I knew you treated me best!"

I stood frozen in the doorway, shadows swallowing me whole.

Finally, I untied my apron, draped it over a chair, and walked out.

When Sebastian wheeled himself out of the bedroom, the house was silent.

A bowl of noodle soup sat on the table, no longer steaming. Beside it lay his imported medication, carefully wrapped.

Usually, Savannah would have already left for her night shift.

An image flashed—her bloodless face, the vicious abrasion on her palm, a spine so thin it looked ready to snap.

Dread coiled in his gut.

He snatched up his phone and dialed.

The next day, Fort Valor General Hospital.

I took Sebastian for his follow-up.

The attending doctor beamed, practically vibrating. "Miss Simmons! Great news. A research institute in the capital developed a targeted drug with miraculous effects on ALS. I fought hard to secure a trial slot for General James!"

My voice stayed flat. "What's the probability of recovery?"

"Over eighty percent!"

Sebastian played his part perfectly. His eyes reddened. "Savvy... I can get better. I can stay with you..."

I tugged my mouth into a faint, hollow smile. "If only one of us can live, I hope it's you. No matter what."

He froze, brows knitting. "What kind of nonsense is that? We'll both live long lives. Once I recover and return to active duty, you'll be right beside me—the pride of Fort Valor's sniper division."

Pride.

I didn't want that title anymore.

Just as I didn't want him.

"The examination is complex," the doctor said, ushering me toward the door. "Please wait outside."

I knew it was just an excuse.

I stood at the corner of the corridor, hidden by the wall.

Moments later, the door opened. Sebastian emerged. He'd shed the patient gown. He walked with steady, powerful strides toward the elevator—his paralysis miraculously gone.

Downstairs, the familiar black sedan with military plates waited.

I withdrew my gaze. Turned. Walked to the consultation room at the far end.

Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating.

"Miss Simmons, the tumor has compressed the primary nerves," the specialist said. "You've lost the window for surgery."

He sighed, removing his glasses. "If you'd come half a month ago... there might have been hope. Now? Days. Go home. Say your goodbyes."

I sat in silence for a long time before nodding.

"After I pass, cremate me immediately," I whispered. "Send the ashes to Westhill Military Residence. Address them to General Sebastian James."

I left my last cash on the desk and walked out.

My phone lit up. A new message.

Come to the residence. There's something you need to see.

The text was from Stella Delgado.

I hailed a cab to Westhill Residence.

Five years. I'd assumed the single-family villa in Fort Valor Military District had changed hands long ago. Instead, it stood before me, ablaze with light and decorated like a fairy-tale castle.

The lawn was packed with guests, the air thick with expensive perfume and glittering jewelry.

Stella stood at the center of it all, wearing a diamond tiara and a custom white couture gown. She clung to my uncle's arm.

They stood before a six-tier cake, surrounded by adoring onlookers.

Stella clasped her hands together, her voice dripping with sugar. "My wish is to be the only princess in Uncle Sebastian's heart. Forever and ever."

Uncle Sebastian smiled and retrieved a square blue velvet box from his uniform pocket.

The lid snapped open.

My blood turned to ice.

Inside sat a pair of jade bangles.

The James family heirlooms, passed down for generations. Tradition dictated they were reserved strictly for daughters-in-law of the house.

I remembered my eighteenth birthday. Uncle Sebastian had placed those very bangles in my palm. Savvy, whether you accept me or not, you will always be my most precious princess.

I had guarded those bangles with my life. Even in my darkest moments, I'd protected them.

Now, those lustrous bands had been resized. Inside, a new name was etched: Stella Delgado.

To thunderous applause, he solemnly slid them onto Stella's slender wrists.

"Congratulations, my little princess. Your wish is granted."

I didn't remember leaving. I only became aware of myself again when my phone buzzed incessantly.

I saw you at The Regent, sis.

Did you get a good look? The bangles are mine. And so is Uncle Sebastian.

You looked like a stray dog. Pathetic.

Why don't you just die? Save us the trouble. Hee hee.

Oh, and I had Uncle prepare a "birthday surprise" for you. Enjoy.

I wandered the freezing streets like a ghost, numb to the cold.

Night had fallen by the time I returned to my dilapidated apartment block. That was when I realized what Stella meant by "surprise."

My front door stood wide open.

The apartment was a wreck, as if a storm had torn through it.

Sebastian was on his knees, hands twisted behind his back. His pristine military uniform was smeared with dust.

He struggled against his captors, veins bulging along his neck.

"Long time no see, sweetheart." The leader rolled a toothpick between his teeth. "Rent's due on the debt."

The blood drained from my face. "I paid everything off. Every cent."

"Paid off?" The man scoffed, grinding his heel into Sebastian's spine. "The debt is cleared when I say it's cleared. Don't want to pay? Fine. Let's see how much your precious uncle can take."

"Savvy... run!" Sebastian gasped. "Don't worry about me! Let them kill me... I'm just a cripple anyway!"

The script never changed.

Over the last five years, I'd heard these exact words a thousand times.

I closed my eyes, exhaustion seeping into my bones.

They'd "collected" countless times, yet Sebastian never walked away with so much as a bruise. Meanwhile, I'd suffered broken ribs, a permanent limp, and financial ruin to protect the man who was deceiving me to my core.

The metallic tang of blood rose in my throat.

"What do you want?" I rasped.

The man looked me up and down, his gaze dripping with contempt. "Crawl through our legs. For every guy you crawl under, bark three times like a dog. Do that, and we'll call it entertainment instead of debt."

"No! Savvy, don't do it!" Sebastian roared, eyes bloodshot as he feigned a desperate struggle.

A numb, bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.