I screamed, slamming against the shards of broken glass. Hot lines cut across my skin. Blood soaked through my skirt.

A soft voice called his name. “Gio?” Isolde appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry… Did I come at a bad time?”

Her foot slipped. A candlestick toppled, the flame catching the scattered photos. The edges of the portraits curled, blackened, and smoke rose as Evander and Sabrina’s faces disintegrated into ash.

Gio froze, his expression twisting into something I’d never seen, something that tore at the edges of me. Then, almost gently, he scooped Isolde into his arms as if she were fragile glass.

“I didn’t mean to,” she choked out, tears streaking her face. “Please don’t be angry.”

For a heartbeat, he was nothing but panic. His hands moved over her cheeks, soft and careful, like a man trained to fix any hurt with soothing gestures. “It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair. “It’s fine.”

That look—how he softened, how he rushed—was a blade turning in my chest. I ripped free from the guard’s grip and shoved him. “Wake up! She’s not Sabrina! She’s a cheap imitation who had surgery just to look like my sister!”

Gio’s expression hardened into ice. He gripped my wrist so tightly I feared he might snap a bone. “I know she isn’t,” he said, voice low and controlled. “I know. But can you bring Sabrina back to me? No!”

I opened my mouth, wanting to scream that she was gone, that nothing could fix this—but all I tasted was coppery metal. Tears stung my eyes. He was so close I could see the heat rising from his skin.

“Tie her up,” he ordered. He stepped back, watching me like a judge presiding over a verdict.

Rough ropes cut into my wrists as they forced me to my knees in the center of the ancestral hall—the place where I had once run free as a child. My dress was drenched with blood. Smoke from the burned photos stung my nostrils.

I knelt there, helpless, while he cradled the woman I’d once loved him into hating. I knelt while Sabrina and Evander’s portraits blackened into nothing. I knelt, thinking about how long I had been falling and how there might not be any ground left to hit.

When Gio finally walked out with Isolde, he didn’t glance back. The door slammed so hard the floor shivered. Darkness swallowed the hall. My knees hit the cold stone as I collapsed. Tears fell freely, cutting paths through the grime and blood.

I looked at what remained of Sabrina’s portrait. Half of it was gone—the part with her smile vanished. I laughed bitterly through my tears. “See that, sister? He can’t even tell what’s real anymore.”

I pressed my head to the floor, whispering to no one. “I’ll see you soon. When I get there, tell him yourself, okay? Show him how foolish he’s become.”

Outside, I could faintly hear Gio’s footsteps. The click of his lighter repeated, over and over. I imagined Isolde’s sweet, high voice next, the one that used to make him melt.

“Gio… you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“Go home,” he said flatly.

“But I want to stay with you—”

“I said go.”

Eventually, she left. I heard her heels fading down the hallway. Then silence settled. He remained, though, somewhere near, perhaps staring at the door, perhaps thinking about breaking it open—but he didn’t. He left me, as always, alone.

I don’t remember falling asleep. When they finally untied me, the sun was already dipping low. My legs refused to move properly. My knees were black and blue, my back aching as if someone had beaten me with a bat.

A servant tried to help, but I waved them off. “Don’t. I’m going out.”

They looked frightened to argue. I didn’t have much time left anyway. I just wanted to see my parents—just once.

Across the street, the old house glowed with soft, warm light. For a moment, I almost turned back. But the door opened.

The old housekeeper gasped. “Miss Liora? My God… it’s really you—”

Before he could finish, my father appeared. Pale, then red with anger. “Who told you to come here?”

“D-dad…”

“Get out!” he roared. “You killed Sabrina, and you still have the face to come here?”

My mother stormed out behind him, belt in hand. “We don’t have a daughter like you! You’re cursed!” She swung hard, the belt lashing my back again and again. I didn’t move. I didn’t even try to block it.

“I just wanted to see you,” I whispered. “Just for a minute.”

“What’s there to see?” He kicked my leg. “Go back to your husband. Go die there if you must!”

Die? I smiled bitterly and nodded.

Rain fell suddenly, a relentless downpour that turned the street into mud. They shoved me, I slipped, the belt falling from my mother’s hand but left unretrieved.

I stayed on my knees and bowed three times, forehead touching the wet pavement each time. “Take care of yourselves,” I murmured quietly. “I won’t bother you again.”

Then I turned and walked. Rain soaked me, mingling with my tears until I couldn’t tell one from the other. I walked without knowing where I was going.

A sleek black car slowed beside me, headlights slicing through the storm. The window rolled down. Gio’s face appeared, unreadable and stone-cold, a cigarette perched between his fingers.

He looked at me like I was a stranger.

“Get in the car,” he ordered.

I didn’t want to get in the car. I might have ruined his seat with my wet clothes. So I kept walking in the rain, pretending I didn’t hear him. The only sound I wanted was my shoes slapping against the pavement.

“If you don’t get in,” Gio said behind me, “I’ll drag you in myself. Choose.”

I froze. The car door clicked open. I didn’t want to fight. I slid inside, water dripping from my hair onto the leather seat. I curled into a corner, hugging my knees, trembling.

He glanced at me and scoffed. “You really are pathetic. Even your own parents kicked you out. Guess they finally saw what kind of person you are.”

I didn’t answer. I just stared out the window. Rain streaked the glass like veins, spreading everywhere, bleeding light.

We didn’t go home. Instead, the car stopped in front of some fancy club.

“Why are we here?” My throat tightened.

He smirked and opened my door. “Come on. Let’s play.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Didn’t ask.” He grabbed my arm. “Don’t act scared now.”

Inside, the lights were dim, the music deafening. Isolde sat in the middle, in her usual white dress, smiling like she owned the room.

“There you are!” she cried when she saw Gio. “We’ve been waiting forever. Let’s play some games!”

Her friends screamed, half-drunk, “Losers get punished!”

The game began—truth or dare, or some twisted variation. Gio and Isolde “accidentally” lost the first round.

“Make them drink the wedding cup!” someone shouted.

Isolde’s cheeks flushed pink from wine. Gio smiled at me, waiting for me to break, and raised his glass.

They lost again. This time, the girls drew a card. “Five-minute kiss. Deep. No cheating.”

The room erupted with cheers.

Before I could even blink, Gio’s hand was at the back of Isolde’s head, and he kissed her like the world wasn’t watching.

I sat frozen, hands trembling under the table. My stomach burned even though all I had was water.

The last punishment was worse. They made him lift Isolde and spin her like a princess. Her laugh filled the room—loud, sweet, triumphant, as if she knew I was watching. And Gio kept glancing at me, waiting for a reaction, waiting for me to scream or run.

I didn’t. I sipped my water, stood, and muttered, “Bathroom.” The hem of my dress brushed his knee as I passed.

Inside the bathroom, cold water splashed across my face. The reflection staring back at me looked dead—pale lips, empty eyes.

When I opened the door, Isolde blocked my path, twirling a strand of hair.

“Still pretending to be calm?” she sneered. “Gio said he was going to make you lose face tonight.”

I tried to sidestep her. “Move.”

She grabbed my wrist. “You think you’re still Mrs. Ramirez? He only married you for revenge. You’re just a placeholder.”

I stepped closer, voice low and steady. “He can hurt me all he wants. But you? You’re a stand-in for a dead woman. You really think that’s something to be proud of?”

Her smile twitched, then sharpened. “At least I’m alive. You won’t be, not for long.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What did you say?”

She leaned close, whispering like a serpent. “You really think your pancreatic cancer was bad luck? Those vitamins you took every morning? I switched them months ago. Same brand, same bottle… mine had a little something extra. A toxin. Slow poison. It burns your pancreas from the inside out.”

My stomach turned cold.

Her eyes glinted with triumph. “I wanted to watch you rot from the inside. And guess what? It worked.”

“How dare you!”

“Yes. How dare me.”

She grabbed my collar, hand raised, ready to strike—but then her eyes flicked over my shoulder. She froze.

Gio.

Her face shifted instantly from venom to panic. She shoved backward, screaming. “Ahhh!”

She hit the floor, clutching her forehead, blood spilling between her fingers.

Gio rushed over, fury shaking his voice. “Liora! You killed your sister, and now you want to kill her too? Do you even know she’s the closest I could find to Sabrina?”

He scooped Isolde up, holding her like fragile glass. The siren of an ambulance wailed in the distance.

Before getting into the car, he turned, eyes like ice. “If she dies, Liora, I’ll make sure you live wishing you didn’t.”

When the car drove off, I stood on the steps, rain hammering down, soaking me through. I laughed bitterly. Gio hated me. His mistress had poisoned me… What was left?

“Life worse than death,” I whispered. “You think I haven’t been living it already?”

I walked home alone. Gio didn’t call. Didn’t show up. But I knew he would. He always did.

At three in the morning, the front door slammed open, jolting me awake. Gio was already beside the bed, eyes colder than ice. He yanked the blanket off and grabbed my wrist.

“Get up,” he ordered. His voice cut through me like a knife. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“Why?” I asked, half-asleep, confused.

He didn’t answer. He pulled harder.

“Gio, stop! You’re hurting me!”

“Isolde needs blood. You have the same type. You’re coming with me.”

My stomach twisted. “It wasn’t me—”

“Shut up.” He shoved me toward the door. “You’ll do what you’re told.”

The ride was silent. Rain streaked the windows, and I counted each drop to keep from crying.

At the hospital, the fluorescent lights stabbed at me. Gio dragged me straight to a small room where a nurse waited.

She looked at me, hesitation flickering in her eyes. “Sir… she’s too pale. We can’t draw blood right now.”

“Why not?” Gio snapped.

The nurse flipped through my chart, frowning. “She has a serious medical condition… late-stage cancer.”

“What?”