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.

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I sat on the edge of the bed in a house that no longer felt like mine. Not because anything had changed physically, but because something inside it had already been taken away.

Eventually, I started packing and by morning, every box was ready. I called a courier and had everything sent out. Designer clothes, jewelry, gifts I had once thought meant something. Now they just felt like proof of how long I had been living inside a lie.

When the courier arrived, he hesitated at the boxes.

“Miss, are you sure?” he asked. “The destination says incineration.”

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t want any of it anymore. Just process it.”

He looked uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. Because those things were not memories anymore. They were weight. And I couldn’t carry weight from a life that had already been erased.

As he left, my phone rang.

My father.

The moment I answered, I heard panic in his voice. People shouting behind him.

“Celeste,” he said, struggling to breathe, “they’re trying to take your brother’s grave.”

My body went still.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

His voice broke. “They came with documents. They said the burial plot has been reassigned. I tried to stop them, but they pushed me aside. I can’t hold them back.”

There was a pause, then his voice cracked again. “He’s gone, and now they won’t even let him stay where he is.”

I was already moving before he finished speaking.

“I’m coming,” I said.

And I left.

---

When I arrived, the cemetery felt wrong immediately.

Men in black suits stood near the burial area. Security types. Cold faces. Blocking access like it was a restricted site instead of a resting place.

My father was on the ground nearby, struggling to get up. He still held the urn tightly against his chest.

I rushed to him and knelt.“Dad, who is doing this?”

His hands shook violently as he pointed ahead.

There, Astrid stood near the graves, slightly bent as she placed something down beside her. A small wrapped box. A dead cat. She was wiping her eyes carefully, like she had practiced the movement in front of a mirror.

My father’s voice broke again. “She said she needed the burial site. She said her pet died, and this was the closest available place. They told us to move.”

Something inside me tightened so hard it hurt.

I stood up slowly.

“Explain this to me,” I said. “You took my brother’s grave for a cat?”

Astrid turned.

And just like before, her expression changed immediately. Soft. Fragile. Controlled.

“Celeste,” Astrid said, her voice gentle, “you’re misunderstanding. I didn’t take anything from you. I was given permission for this space.”

She stepped slightly closer.

“I didn’t know it belonged to someone you cared about. I only found out after everything was arranged.”

Then her gaze shifted to my father and then to the urn in his hands. A faint smile touched her lips.

“Is that an urn?” she asked softly. “another stunt?”

My father stiffened.

Astrid tilted her head slightly.

“And honestly,” she continued, “I don’t understand why you’re making this so dramatic. It’s just a burial spot. People die every day.”

My hands curled into fists.

“You’re standing in front of my brother’s grave! And you’re calling it just a spot.”

“Celeste,” Astrid said, “you’re still doing this. You’re still trying to turn everything into a scene so Rocco will pay attention to you.”

My jaw tightened.

“That has nothing to do with this,” I said.

But she kept going. Her voice sharpened.

“I saw the video too,” she said. “And honestly, I didn’t see what you’re claiming. It looked consensual. Both our brothers are having fun in bed and you’re pushing a narrative that doesn’t match reality.”

My vision blurred for a moment. Not from tears. From restraint.

I stared at her, trying to understand how someone could stand in front of a grieving family and speak like that.

Is she real? Or is this what happens when someone learns there are no consequences anymore?

My nails dug into my palms.

I wanted to hit her! I wanted to scream until my voice broke. But instead, I pulled out my phone and called the cemetery office.

“I want the records for this burial plot,” I said. “And I want the person who approved the reassignment on the line.”

...

After a few minutes, the manager arrived.

The manager listened carefully after I explained everything, and for once, he didn’t hesitate or try to stay neutral.

He stepped forward and looked directly at Astrid.

“Miss, I understand your situation, I really do,” he said firmly. “But all burial plots here are booked in advance and assigned legally. We can’t just move someone else’s arrangement for personal reasons.”

He paused, then added more strictly, “If you need an urgent burial, we can offer alternative sections. Our staff will help you choose another space immediately. But this specific grave cannot be taken.”

Astrid’s face shifted fast.

She pressed a hand to her chest like she was wounded.

“But my cat just died,” she said softly, her voice shaking on purpose. “I didn’t know it would become such a problem. I didn’t come here to fight anyone. I just want to bury something I loved.”

She looked at me next, eyes glossy but sharp underneath.

“Celeste,” she added, “you’re really going to treat me like this over a dead pet? Don’t you think that’s a little cruel? I didn’t do anything to you.”

I didn’t even fully look at her at first.

I just walked forward and carefully lowered my brother’s urn into the prepared space.

My hands trembled, but I didn’t stop.

“You keep saying words like cruel,” I said quietly. “But you keep standing in the middle of other people’s graves like you belong here.”

I looked up at her fully now.

“So tell me,” I added, my voice low, “who exactly is being cruel here?”

Her expression tightened instantly. She opened her mouth, then closed it again like she didn’t expect me to push back.

And then she suddenly swayed, her knees buckled.

And she collapsed right there.

A small gasp went through the staff.

Before I could even react properly, the air changed again. Heavy footsteps.

Rocco.

His voice came first.

“Get that filth out of this cemetery.”

My chest clenched so hard it hurt.

Filth.

He walked straight to Astrid like everything else didn’t exist. Like the ground I was standing on wasn’t even real to him.

He bent down and lifted her into his arms.

My hands curled into fists so hard my nails cut into my skin.

I stepped forward fast, blocking the bodyguards before they could move toward my brother’s urn.

“Don’t you touch that,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “Don’t you dare take it.”

One of them hesitated, but Rocco didn’t even look at them.

He just spoke again.

“Move her,” he said coldly. “And take whatever is disturbing this place out of my sight.”

My heart dropped.

I turned to him fully now.

My voice broke, but I forced it out anyway.

“Rocco,” I said, “do you even know what is inside that urn?”

I swallowed hard and added again, louder, “That’s my brother. My 22 year old brother.”

But he didn’t even flinch.

He stood there holding Astrid like she weighed nothing. Like I was the one making noise for no reason.

“And?” he said flatly. “Why would I care about your story right now?”