I was Brandon Sandler’s most cherished canary—pampered, sheltered, and utterly his for five years.

Then came the news of his engagement to another woman. Only then did I realize his affection had been a carefully crafted revenge.

He trapped me by his side, flaunting his love for another while subjecting me to relentless humiliation.

Eventually, I stopped caring.

But the ruthless business tycoon, who once held himself above all, clutched me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me to come home. He said he regretted everything.

My hand instinctively cradled my stomach as I glanced at the man behind him.

“Darling,” I murmured, “this man is scaring our baby.”

The night before Brandon Sandler left on a business trip, he told me to stay home and wait for him. He said he had a surprise for me.

I lost myself in the warmth of his gentle smile, blind to the cold shadow buried deep in his eyes.

Not even in my worst dreams did I imagine that the “surprise” I’d been so excited to receive would be the news of his engagement to another woman in Lumiere.

For a moment, my mind went blank.

Over the past five years, Brandon had handled rumors with skill, and nothing like this had ever surfaced before.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the trending news. The longer I read, the more panic consumed me, and I threw my phone aside.

I told myself to stay calm, to wait patiently at home for him.

Finally, the next day at noon, Brandon returned.

I rushed to greet him in excitement, only for a girl to step out from behind him.

The moment I saw her face, everything I’d built inside me crumbled into ruin.

I no longer knew how to keep lying to myself.

My voice shook as I asked, “So this is the surprise you were talking about?”

Brandon chuckled and pulled the girl into his arms. “Isn’t it obvious? I thought one night was enough for you to process it.”

“Why?” I demanded as I clutched Brandon’s sleeve.

“Do you remember the girl who died after a botched surgery performed by your father, because he was drunk?” Brandon’s face darkened, his voice filled with venom.

“That was my sister! She was only seven years old.”

My mind snapped awake. I stared at Brandon, my head buzzing.

I was stunned.

“So… you kept me by your side because of that?” I asked, my voice shaking as I tried to process what he said.

“What else?” he sneered. “Why do you think I just happened to save you from being assaulted at that bar?

“Of course, it was all part of the plan.

“You’re so stupid and naive. I gave you the barest kindness, and you clung to it like it meant something. You were even in love with me,” Brandon finished with a mocking laugh.

Each word he spoke cut like a knife, slowly shredding me from within.

What a perfect scheme. He’d been gentle, made me believe I was cherished, only to shove me off the edge just when I felt safe.

My heart forgot how to beat, and in that moment, I realized I was nothing but a joke to him.

“Since that’s the case, your revenge is complete, isn’t it?” I asked as I forced myself to stand tall.

“We’re even now.”

Brandon’s eyes darkened with fury.

He let out a cold laugh as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“We’re far from even, Tiana. You’ll spend the rest of your life atoning for your sins.”

Blood pounded through my veins as I struggled to break free.

“I won’t!”

“That’s not up to you. Don’t forget, your mother’s life is still in my hands.”

I stared at him. I never imagined he would stoop so low as to threaten me with that.

The cold glint in his eyes made me shiver, and all resistance crumbled in that instant.

“What do you want from me?”

Brandon released me and wrapped his arm around the girl beside him.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll be in charge of Leslie’s meals and wardrobe. Serve her well. If she’s not satisfied, I can’t guarantee I won’t have a few words with the hospital.”

“I’ll leave everything in your care, Tiana,” Leslie Paxton smiled sweetly and leaned into Brandon’s embrace.

The two of them looked so affectionate, like the perfect couple.

A dull ache throbbed in my chest as I stood before them in shame.

That night, I curled up in a tiny storage room, bitterness welling up inside me.

It was the new place Brandon had assigned to me, the only place he now deemed me worthy of.

Sleep didn’t come easily. When it did, it brought nightmares I hadn’t thought about in years.

Back then, after the medical accident my father caused, our family became a public target. Unable to endure the harassment, he jumped to his death.

My mother lost her mind, fell down the stairs, and became paralysed.

In one night, my family was destroyed, and I was no longer the carefree little princess I had once been.

To pay for my mother’s expensive treatments, I had no choice but to work at a bar until those so-called gentlemen pinned me down and tried to assault me.

At the critical moment, Brandon had saved me.

He gave me five years of affection when he pulled me from the abyss.

Yet now I find out that everything had been orchestrated from the very beginning.

The act of saving me was a lie.

His love was a lie, too.

As the dream shattered, I plunged back into the mire.

But this time, no one was coming to save me.

Early the next morning, my role as attendant to Leslie began.

“It’s so hot!” Leslie complained.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch the edge of the soup bowl, she deliberately knocked it over with a forceful swipe.

I didn’t have time to react, and a sharp, searing pain spread across the back of my hand, making me wince in agony.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to!” Leslie whimpered with faux innocence.

I wasn’t in the mood to respond and hurried to rinse the burn with cold water, but Leslie had other ideas.

“Goodness, look at the mess you made! Why don’t you clean it up first? It’s putting me in a bad mood.”

I understood her perfectly.

She was doing it intentionally, just to make things difficult for me.

From the moment the day began, she had me picking out more than a dozen outfits, then redoing her makeup just as many times.

Each time, she ended up choosing the very first look I’d prepared. Her goal was obvious: to exhaust me.

And this incident was no different.

Yet, I didn’t dare resist.

Leslie couldn't be displeased, as my mother’s life was in the balance, and I couldn’t afford to gamble with it.

I loosened my clenched fist, picked up the rag, and crouched down.

Ignoring the pain, I wiped the floor clean.

Leslie ordered me around the entire day. Only when Brandon returned that evening did I finally manage to catch my breath.

“Brandon!” Leslie beamed, her innocent smile blooming as she threw herself into arms that received her without hesitation.

A sharp pain clenched at my heart as I watched them.

Not long ago, that had been me.

I used to wait eagerly for him to come home, run into his arms, and bask in his tender kisses.

I turned my head away, afraid that if I kept looking, tears would betray me.

“What happened to your hand?”

My heart skipped.

I looked up at Brandon, who was frowning now as he stared at my reddened hand.

But just as hope flickered, his words crushed it completely.

“Did you leave it untreated on purpose, so I’d feel sorry for you when I came home?

“I wonder now… Are you childish or just manipulative?”

A tight, prickling pain spread across my chest, and I laughed bitterly.

What had I even been hoping for?

Knowing that arguing would be useless, I lowered my head and patiently waited for Brandon’s punishment.

Perhaps because I hadn’t reacted as expected, he became irritated instead.

“Get out of my sight and go do something about that hand! Disgusting…”

I was a little surprised, but I didn’t bother to read into Brandon’s ever-changing moods.

Without a word, I turned and went to get some ointment for the burns, and so I didn’t see the way his expression gradually darkened behind me.

At last, I made it through the day.

Exhausted, I collapsed onto the narrow bed and fell asleep within moments.

At some point in the night, I woke groggily to something hot trailing across my body.

I jolted awake and was terrified by what I saw.

Brandon was on top of me, his hands roaming all over my body.

I screamed and struggled with all my strength, but he held me down firmly.

He planted fevered kisses across my skin, making every hair on my body stand on end.

I resisted with every fiber of my being, my voice hoarse with desperation.

“What are you doing, Brandon! How could you face Leslie after this?”

As expected, those words made him stop.

But before I could breathe a sigh of relief, he lowered his head and sneered at me.

“What are you pretending for?” he asked coldly.

“Weren’t you the one who used to love it when I touched you? What now? You think playing hard to get will make me interested again?

“If you serve me well, maybe I’ll even consider letting you go.”

My cheeks burned with shame as a tidal wave of humiliation and fury rose within me.

“Are you even human?!” I hissed.

“There’s worse to come,” he whispered.

Under my terrified gaze, Brandon began tearing at my clothes.

In that moment, the despair I felt echoed the same helpless horror from five years ago, when those men pinned me down and tried to assault me.

I burst into tears.

“No! Let go of me!” I screamed as my mind spiraled into chaos. In a final, desperate move, I bit down hard on Brandon’s shoulder.

The sharp, coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

He cried out in pain and let me go.

His expression darkened with rage, and he was about to lunge at me again when one single thought consumed me— Even if it killed me, I would never let him touch me again.

Seizing my chance, I hurled myself at the wall with all my strength.

The world spun violently, and in that dizzying moment, I thought I saw Brandon charging toward me, his eyes wild with panic.

When I woke up in the hospital, my mind was foggy, but the throbbing pain in my skull served as a relentless reminder: Staying with Brandon was dangerous.

I didn’t know what he was capable of next. I had to leave.

But without money or power, and trapped within Brandon’s territory, escape was impossible, let alone taking my mother with me.

Suddenly, the hospital room door creaked open.

A chill slithered down my spine as I recognized the man standing there—unfamiliar, yet somehow known.

“Fabian Mortensen?”

“You know me,” he said simply.

The man’s calm and composed demeanor filled the room as he slowly walked to my bedside.

He looked down at me, then smiled faintly.

“Makes sense. After all the time you spent with Brandon, you’d know who his rival is.”

“What are you doing here?” I forced myself upright as I eyed him with caution. His methods were no more merciful than Brandon’s.

“Relax. I just want to ask a favor of you, Miss Tolkien,” he said softly.

“My younger sister needs a bone marrow transplant, but her blood type is rare. The hospital’s tests show you're a strong match.

“I know this is sudden, but if you agree, I’ll reward you generously.”

My heart skipped a beat.

This was my chance.

I fought to steady my nerves and met Fabian’s gaze.

“I’ll do it, but you have to get my mother out of here first. And when it’s done, I want you to make sure Brandon can never find us again.”

There was a brief silence.

My heart raced. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, and that this offer carried veiled threats, but I had no choice. I had to take the risk.

“Deal,” he nodded.

His deep, steady voice settled something in me. For the first time in a while, I exhaled.

That afternoon, Brandon arrived.

I flinched when I saw him.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked as he reached out to touch my forehead.

I instinctively recoiled.

When I realized what I’d done, I inhaled sharply. I was terrified that I’d upset him.

It felt like any misstep at that point could provoke something dangerous in him and derail my escape.

But the storm I’d braced for never came.

Brandon simply withdrew his hand and opened the food container he had brought.

“It’s all your favorites,” he said as he scooped a spoonful of soup.

He blew on it gently and held it to my lips.

I stared at his calm, unreadable expression.

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Still, I didn’t dare refuse. I forced myself to sip.

He seemed relieved and reached out to pat my head, like one might soothe a pet that had finally learned its lesson.

“That’s better,” he said with satisfaction. “If you continue to behave like this, you’ll suffer less.”

It took me a moment to register his words. Then a bitter wave of irony washed over me.

So he hadn’t softened out of pity.

He was simply playing the “good cop,” using kindness as another form of control, an act meant to keep me obedient.

I swallowed my rising emotions and forced a small smile.

Over the next few days in the hospital, Brandon visited me daily, bringing gifts, food, and care.

His gentle patience made me momentarily feel like I’d been transported back to how things once were.

But I couldn’t understand his behavior.

Could it be guilt? Regret?

Impossible.

He didn’t love me.

All he ever felt for me was hatred inherited from my father’s mistake.

And now, he had Leslie by his side.

As the date of my discharge crept closer, Fabian still hadn’t sent word.

Anxiety tightened in my chest.

I treaded even more carefully around Brandon, terrified he’d sense something was off and ruin any chance I had of escaping with my mother.

Then, finally, news came.

Fabian had arranged everything.

The night before the plan was set in motion, I slipped away to see my mother but found her bed empty.

The panic almost floored me.

Just then, a nurse informed me that my mother had suffered heart failure an hour ago and had been rushed into emergency surgery.

I ran to the operating room, and when I arrived, the surgical light above the door dimmed.

I grabbed the doctor’s hand as soon as he stepped out.

“How is my mother, Doctor?” I asked desperately.

“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”

He looked at me with pity, then lowered his head with a sigh.

The devastating news exploded in my mind.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, clutching my chest.

The grief was so heavy I couldn’t even cry.

Why?

I had been so close, just one step away from taking my mother and escaping this place to start a new life.

But now, I no longer had a mother.

“What a shame,” a shrill voice said from somewhere above me.

“You didn’t even get to see her one last time.”

I looked up to see Leslie.

When I didn’t respond, she kept going.

“Did you think that Brandon didn’t know you asked Fabian to help you escape? Don’t be so naive.

“Your mother’s death was a warning from him.”

“What do you mean?” I shot to my feet and grabbed her wrist with trembling hands.

“Are you saying he killed my mother?”

Leslie was startled.

“I—I didn’t say that!” she stammered.

Yet her panic and fear only confirmed what she had just let slip.

It was Brandon. He killed my mother.

An overwhelming wave of guilt swallowed me whole, and the ache in my chest threatened to tear me to pieces.

He was ruthless, just as I feared, using my mother’s life to teach me a lesson.

“Tiana…”

Brandon’s voice rang out behind me.

He had arrived.