"THEN TRY ME."

The last fragile piece of my heart shattered.. The man who had once sworn to protect me was now the one holding the knife.

...

The first time I heard Astrid's name was a year ago.

We had both been invited to speak on a high-profile true crime documentary panel after a case involving an abused young girl captured national attention. While most people focused on evidence, accountability, and justice, Astrid spent the entire discussion talking about sympathy and compassion.

After the event ended, she cornered me backstage.

She looked genuinely upset.

"Celeste, don't you think you're too harsh?" she demanded.

I frowned. "Harsh?"

"The man is old. He's lonely! People make mistakes!"

For a moment, I honestly thought I had misheard her. "Mistakes?"

"Yes." She crossed her arms. "Can't you show some compassion? Do you really want him to spend the rest of his life suffering alone?"

I stared at her in disbelief.

A child had suffered.

A child! And Astrid's concern was whether the predator felt lonely.

That night, I told Rocco about the conversation. I expected him to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Instead, his expression darkened.

Pulling me into his arms, he wrapped one arm around my waist and pressed a kiss against my forehead.

"What an idiot," he muttered coldly. "Daring to upset my wife."

Then he looked down at me and asked, "Want me to handle her?"

I immediately shook my head. "No. It's not worth it."

At the time, I thought he was defending me. I thought he was angry on my behalf.

How ironic.

Six months later, Rocco personally hired Astrid and brought her into Thornton Empire.

I remember how confused I was. Even then, I trusted him completely.

"Honey," he said one evening while pulling me onto his lap, "we needed another producer anyway."

I frowned. "Why her?"

He chuckled softly. "She's interesting."

Interesting?

That was the word he used.

After that, Astrid's name started appearing everywhere. Astrid said this. Astrid thought that. Astrid recommended something. Astrid made him laugh. Astrid made him smile.

Of course I noticed. How could I not? But I never felt threatened. Why would I? Rocco loved me.

At least that was what I believed.

The man who once swore that if he ever betrayed me, he would gladly swallow ten thousand needles. The man who promised to spend his entire life protecting me.

Now he was willing to destroy my family just to keep Astrid happy.

My brother. My career. My reputation. And my life...

None of it mattered. Not compared to her.

The despair inside me became unbearable.

Slowly, I picked up the agreement Rocco had prepared. My hand trembled as I signed it page after page, line after line. With every signature, it felt as though I was burying another piece of myself.

When I finished writing the last word, I pushed the document across the table, stood and walked away.

I had barely stepped outside when my phone suddenly rang.

My father's name flashed across the screen.

The moment I answered, panicked sobs exploded through the speaker.

“Celeste, get to the hospital right now!”

He was crying so hard I could barely understand him. “Your brother—! Your brother tried to take his own life...”

The world around me fell silent.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe.

Then I ran.

I don't remember how I got to the hospital. The journey disappeared from my memory entirely. All I remember is bursting through the emergency room doors and seeing my father collapsed on the floor, clutching my little brother in his arms.

Blood stained his clothes, his trembling hands, and the white hospital floor beneath him.

“Please save my son,” my father begged the doctors, his voice cracking from despair. “Please... he's still warm. I stopped the bleeding as much as I could. There's still time. Please save him.”

Again and again, he lowered his head. Begging. Crying. Abandoning every ounce of pride he had left.

His hair was disheveled, his forehead red and swollen from repeatedly bowing and pleading. I had never seen my father like that.

Never.

Several doctors stood nearby with troubled expressions. Finally, one of them let out a weary sigh.

“We can't help right now.”

I froze. “What do you mean you can't help?”

The doctor looked away before answering. “President Thornton ordered all available emergency specialists to remain on standby.”

My heart sank. “For what?”

The hesitation in his eyes made the answer even worse.

“Miss Snow's cat is sick.”

For several seconds, I simply stared at him.

A cat?

My brother was dying! My brother was lying there covered in blood! And they were worried about a cat?

Rage exploded inside me. I rushed forward and grabbed the doctor's sleeve. “Doctor, please,” I pleaded, “Veterinarians exist for animals. You're doctors. You're supposed to save people. He's only twenty two years old. Are you really going to stand here and watch him die?”

The doctor gently pulled himself free, helplessness written across his face.

“Miss, please understand.”

“No, you understand!” I nearly screamed. “My brother needs help!”

The doctor's expression hardened. “Mr. Thornton personally gave the order,” he said quietly. “Miss Snow treasures that cat. If something happens to it, she'll be devastated. And if she's upset, all of us will suffer the consequences.”

The words struck me like a physical blow.

That was the reason.

My brother's life meant less than Astrid's feelings.

I chased after the doctors anyway, down the hallway, through every corridor— begging and crying.

Screaming for help until my throat felt raw but nobody stopped. Nobody turned around and nobody cared.

By the time I returned to the emergency room, everything was already over.

My father was still sitting on the floor, holding my brother in his arms. Only this time, my brother wasn't moving.

His body had already gone cold.

My father's grief-stricken cries echoed through the room, shattering what little remained of my heart.

Slowly, I dropped to my knees beside them and pain swallowed me whole.

I couldn't even force myself to look at my brother's face.

This was my fault, wasn't it?

If I had fought harder... If I hadn't married Rocco. If I hadn't trusted him. Would my brother still be alive?

I raised my hand and slapped myself multiple times.

“It's my fault,” I whispered through broken sobs. “It's all my fault! I killed him.”

My father caught my wrist before I could strike myself again.

My brother's blood still stained his hands. His eyes were swollen from crying, but something inside them had changed.

The grief remained but there was something else now.

Hatred— cold, unwavering hatred.

“Celeste...” he said hoarsely. “We're leaving.”

I stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“We're taking your brother and leaving this country.”

His jaw tightened. “I'll find someone who can help us.” He lowered his gaze to the son in his arms. When he looked up again, his eyes were red with pain. “Seven days. Give me seven days. We'll settle everything and leave. We'll never come back.”

I accompanied my father and my brother to the crematorium. The entire afternoon passed in a blur.

My father seemed to age ten years in a single day.

His back was bent. His shoulders slumped. The man who had always seemed invincible suddenly looked old.

So painfully old.

He sat in silence, holding the urn that contained my brother's ashes and the sight felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

A message from Rocco.

My hands immediately turned cold.

“Within two hours, pick up Astrid's dress from the stylist and deliver it to the banquet hall. Astrid will send you the address.”

I stared at the screen.

My brother had just been cremated. Hs ashes were still warm. And Rocco wanted me to run errands for Astrid.

I wanted to block him. Delete him. Erase him from my life forever. But instead, I typed two simple words.

“No time.”

The reply arrived almost instantly.

A video appeared on my screen.

The same video showing my drugged little brother being forced abused and filmed while trapped in a carefully planned setup.

My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white.

The threat couldn't have been clearer.

Obey.

Or suffer.

My father saw the screen, and his expression darkened immediately.

“My son is already dead,” he said, his voice trembling with fury. “What else does he fucking want?!” He shot to his feet so abruptly that the chair nearly toppled over. “Does he want to destroy him even after death? Does he want to grind my son's memory into dust before he's satisfied?”

I quickly grabbed him. “Dad!”

He was shaking. Crying. Falling apart right in front of me.

Wrapping my arms around him, I cried with him. “Please don't,” I whispered. “Don't go to him. He isn't human anymore.”

My father covered his face as his shoulders trembled. I felt my heart breaking. I swallowed my pain and forced myself to think clearly.

“We only need seven days,” I said, holding him tighter. “Just seven more days. If Rocco notices something is wrong before then, he won't let us leave.”

My voice cracked. “So I'll go.”

For seven more days, I would endure. And then we'd disappear forever.

…

I arrived at the place Astrid sent, but something in me tightened the moment I saw it. The address was vague, almost careless, like it had been designed to mislead rather than guide. Still, I came. I had no other choice.

And then I saw him.

A man standing at the entrance like he owned the very space around him.

My steps slowed instinctively. My stomach dropped.

It was him— Arthur!

My fingers went numb.

He turned his head and saw me, and immediately smiled, as if I was not an interruption but an expected arrival. As if this moment had already been arranged long before I reached it.

He walked toward me boldly. “Hey, you’re Celeste, right?” he said, voice casual. “Astrid told me to wait here for you.”

I stared at him, my body locking in place.

“Why are you here?” My voice came out rough, strained.

He gave a short laugh, like I had asked something absurd.

“Astrid my belover sister invited me. Said I should experience this kind of thing. Broaden my world a little.” He tilted his head, still smiling. “And honestly, you’re late. I’ve been here a while.”

My nails dug into my palm until pain grounded me.

My brother’s face surfaced in my mind without warning and this man was standing in front of me like nothing had ever happened.

“Astrid is really kind. She said I should meet more people, see different circles.”

My throat tightened painfully.

“And her boyfriend? That big corporate guy from Thornton Empire. He’s loaded. Even got me this suit made.” He smoothed his sleeve then his eyes returned to me. “You should really learn from her. She knows how to choose people.”

My breathing turned shallow.

What is he talking about?

Then his smile changed, dimming into something colder.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” His voice dropped. “You’re from the same family as that messed up kid who couldn’t handle himself.”

Something inside me shattered.

There was no warning after that.

I grabbed the dress in my hands and threw it at him with everything I had.

“Don’t you dare talk about my brother!” My voice broke as I spoke. “Don’t you ever say his name.”

He barely shifted, but I saw it. That faint amusement in his eyes. And that was what broke whatever restraint I still had left.

“I swear I’ll kill you, you monster! Rapist!” I said, shaking.

Before I could move again, hands seized me from behind. Arms locked around mine. I struggled, kicked, fought, but the grip only tightened as they dragged me back.

Then I heard footsteps.

Rocco.

I turned my head and there he was, walking out with Astrid beside him. Arm in arm.

Astrid looked at me first, her expression composed and faintly irritated.

“Celeste,” she said coolly, “who gave you permission to attack my brother? Apologize now.”

“You want me to apologize?” I let out a broken laugh. “He drugged my brother. He abused him. He fucking destroyed his life!”

Astrid’s eyes sharpened immediately. “You can’t say that. There’s no ruling yet. That’s defamation.”

Defamation? Huh!

She turned slightly toward Rocco, her gaze softening as if she were asking permission from the world itself.

“What do you think we should do?” she asked gently. “I don’t want to be unfair.”

Silence stretched between us.

Then Rocco spoke. “Kneel.”

My breath stopped completely.

I stared at him. “What?”

He didn’t look at me. “Kneel and apologize.”

Something inside me cracked open, wide and irreversible.

“Rocco, are you serious?” My voice trembled violently. “You know what he is! You know what he did to my brother!”

A small motion from him. Barely anything but it was enough.

The next second, they forced me down.

Pain shot through my knees as they hit the ground. I tried to resist, but hands were already in my hair, forcing my head downward before slamming it into the ground multiple times.

The sound echoed through my skull like something breaking apart from the inside.

Warm blood blurred my vision. The world tilted, unstable, like I was slipping out of it entirely.

Above me, Astrid’s voice floated down, calm again, satisfied now, like the outcome had already been decided long before I arrived.

Only when she seemed content did Rocco raise his hand.

“Enough,” he said.

Just like that.

The pressure disappeared.

I collapsed forward onto the ground, my body shaking uncontrollably, blood mixing with dirt beneath me.

Then slowly, I stood on the broken ground of what used to be my life, blood dried against my skin, when Rocco finally walked toward me.

He squatted in front of me as if I were something still worth handling carefully, something that had not already been discarded. A white handkerchief rested in his hand, clean and out of place in the ruin between us.

“Celeste, I already told you this case is finished.” Rocco said softly.

I stared at him for a long moment.

My throat burned, but I forced the words out.

“You don’t get to say that to me,” I said, voice shaking. “You don’t get to call this finished when my brother is gone!”

Rocco did not react the way I expected. His face stayed controlled, almost distant.

“You’re still pushing this,” Rocco said evenly. “And you’re trying to pull Astrid into it, even though she has nothing to do with your personal collapse.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“You’re being cruel, Celeste. You are refusing to see what this will cost everyone else.”

Something inside me snapped at that.

I pushed myself up and slapped the handkerchief out of his hand. It fell between us and stayed there.

“Do not call me cruel,” I said. “You are talking about my brother like he is nothing.”

My legs nearly gave out, but I forced myself to stay standing.

Rocco looked at the cloth on the ground for a second, then turned away as if the conversation had already ended for him.

He walked back to Astrid and put his arm around her waist.

“We’re going back to the villa,” Rocco said.

Astrid leaned into him slightly, then looked back at me.

“Are you really not coming with us, Celeste?” Astrid said. “You could at least stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

Rocco pulled her closer and kissed her in front of me without hesitation. “Not tonight. Leave her here.”

The engine started soon after and then they were gone.

No car remained. No explanation followed. No one looked back. Only silence stayed behind, pressing into everything.

...

It was already midnight when I reached the manor.

My hand trembled at the door before I even touched the lock.

Then I stopped.

Intimate voices were coming from inside.

I did not move right away.

I stayed there, listening, until time stopped feeling like something that mattered.

The cold cut through me, but I did not leave.

Because what was outside no longer mattered compared to what I knew I would find inside.

When everything finally went quiet, I unlocked the door and stepped in.

Clothes were scattered across the carpet I had once chosen carefully, thinking it would become part of a life I could build.

Now it looked destroyed.

On the table sat unopened protection packets, placed neatly, deliberately, as if meant to be seen.

My throat tightened. So this is what I was replaced with.

I did not look further because I already knew I would not survive what came next.

I turned toward the stairs. “Aww, leaving already?” Astrid said.

I stopped and looked at her.

She stood there wrapped in a towel, hair slightly messy, but her expression was controlled, almost bored with my reaction.

“You don’t have to act like this,” Astrid said. “I am not a third party in anything that matters to him.”

“I do not care what you call yourself,” I said. “I am not here to argue with you.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You should care,” Astrid said. “Because this is the reality you are refusing to accept.”

Then she stepped forward and grabbed my wrist.

Her grip was tight and deliberate.

“Come with me,” Astrid said. “There is something you need to see.”

She dragged me into Rocco's study.

The only room I was never allowed to enter alone.

My chest tightened, but I followed because there was nowhere else to go.

Astrid went straight to the safe. It opened without hesitation and pulled out a document and threw it at me.

“Read it carefully, bitch,” Astrid said.

I caught it and lowered my eyes.

It was a divorce agreement.

My name was printed clearly at the top and my signature was on the final page.

I flipped it once, then again.

I looked up at her. “This is not real. I never signed this.”

Astrid did not move. “You did sign it,” Astrid said. “It is valid, and it has been for a long time.”

“That is impossible,” I said. “I would remember something like this.”

“You would,” Astrid replied. “If you were still the wife he chose to keep.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“Rocco ended the marriage,” Astrid said. “And he accepted it because I refused to stay in a situation where I had to share him with you.”

The words landed hard.

I felt my stomach turn.

“You are lying,” I said, but my voice had already weakened.

Astrid shook her head slightly.

“I am not lying,” she said. “I am telling you so you can stop embarrassing yourself by clinging to something that no longer exists.” She tilted her head. “I will give you time to leave,” she added. “After that, it will no longer be my concern.”

I looked down at the paper again.

Rocco had always been precise.

He never missed details. Never left loose ends. Not in business, not in contracts, and not in people.

So when I saw the divorce agreement, something inside me went cold in a different way.

He did it properly. Cleanly. Completely.

He erased me the same way he erased problems.

I had spent days thinking about how to leave him. Thinking about how to survive that kind of ending.

But I didn’t even get the chance to leave. I had already been removed.

For a moment, something strange settled in my chest.

I picked up the papers from Astrid’s hand without looking at her face. I couldn’t afford to.

If I looked at her too long, I might lose control.

So I folded the agreement slowly and spoke in a steady voice.

“I understand,” I said. “If that is what you both decided, then I hope you have a long marriage.”

My voice didn’t shake.

But I made sure every word landed clearly.

Especially the last part.

Astrid’s expression flickered for a moment, like she felt the weight of it. But I didn’t wait to see more.

I turned and walked out.