My breath caught.

“Celeste, you keep doing this. You keep creating scenes around Astrid.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You are the one turning everything into a mess.”

I stared at him like I didn’t recognize him anymore.

“A mess?” I whispered. “My brother was drugged. He was raped. And you’re calling it a mess?”

That finally made something flicker in his expression. But not guilt— annoyance.

Before I could say anything else, he lifted his hand slightly. The bodyguards moved immediately and they pulled the urn out.

“No!” I screamed, rushing forward. “Stop it, that’s my brother!”

My father shouted too, voice breaking. “Don’t you dare! That’s my son!”

But they ignored us. They opened it and poured everything out right onto the ground.

I froze.

No, no, no!

My brain refused to understand what I was seeing at first then it hit me all at once.

Ashes— my brother’s ashes spilling into dirt!

My father collapsed beside me, screaming and crying, trying to scoop it back with his bare hands.

“Please… please no!” he sobbed. “That’s my boy… that’s my boy!”

But they shoved him away. One of them even stepped on the ashes like it was nothing at all. Like a mistake they were erasing.

My vision blurred completely. I turned to Rocco again.

My voice barely worked. “Do you understand what you just did?” I whispered. “That is my brother. That is all I have left of him.”

He finally looked at me properly now and laughed.

“Your brother,” he repeated, like it was ridiculous. “Celeste, stop embarrassing yourself.” He shook his head slightly. “I knew you would go this far,” he said. “Faking death, faking grief, just to get my attention.”

My stomach dropped.

“You’re sick,” I whispered.

He didn’t react. Instead, he adjusted Astrid in his arms and turned slightly away.

“And listen carefully,” he added, voice low and final. “If you keep lying, I won’t ignore it next time.” Then he walked away with her.

The moment he disappeared, my legs gave out.

I dropped to my knees. My hands reached into the dirt, shaking, trying to gather something that could never be gathered again.

My father was beside me, crying so hard he couldn’t even breathe properly anymore.

…

The next morning, a series of hard knocks rattled the front door.

I froze where I was standing.

For a brief moment, a sick thought crossed my mind. Maybe they had come back. Maybe yesterday hadn't been enough.

When I opened the door, several bodyguards were standing outside.

The sight alone made my stomach sink.

They weren't there to visit. They weren't there to negotiate.

They were there to deliver an order.

“What do you want now?” I asked. “I've already stepped aside. I've already lost my marriage, my career, and my brother. What else could you possibly take from me?”

The man standing in front answered without hesitation. “Mr. Thornton sent us. Miss Snow is hosting a birthday celebration tonight, and your attendance is required.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Required.

That was a polite way of saying I had no choice.

“I don't attend parties I'm not invited to,” I said. “And I certainly don't attend parties hosted by people who have spent months destroying my life.”

The bodyguard's expression didn't change.

“Miss Snow specifically requested your presence. The guest list has already been finalized, and Mr. Thornton expects your cooperation.”

I looked at him for several seconds.

“And if I don't cooperate?”

The answer came immediately.

The man lifted his hand.

Two bodyguards pushed past me and grabbed my father.

“Dad!” I shouted.

My father stumbled backward in shock.

He still looked exhausted from everything that had happened. His shoulders seemed permanently bent now, as though grief had settled onto his back and refused to leave.

Seeing strangers put their hands on him made something twist violently inside my chest.

“Let him go,” I said.

Nobody moved.

The bodyguard spoke calmly. “If you refuse to attend, we can bring your father instead. Either way, Miss Snow will have the guest she requested.”

I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw hurt.

“You know he's done nothing to you. You know he's suffered enough already.”

“That isn't my decision,” the man replied. “Our instructions were very clear.”

Tears burned behind my eyes.

Rage.

Fear.

Humiliation.

All of it mixing together until I could barely breathe.

“I'll go,” I said finally. “I'll attend the party. Just let him go and leave him out of this.”

Only then did they release him.

The entire drive to the venue felt less like transportation and more like an escort.

Not for a guest.

For a prisoner.

---

The event was already in full swing when I arrived.

The moment I stepped inside, I saw them. Astrid and Rocco stood at the center of the room, surrounded by people eager to win their attention. Astrid barely resembled the woman I had met years ago.

Back then she had dressed simply. She had been awkward and forgettable. Now she looked expensive. Everything about her had changed. The clothes. The jewelry. The confidence. The status.

Every upgrade had come from the same source.

Rocco Thornton.

And Rocco stood beside her with one hand resting lightly against her back. His eyes followed her every movement.

I knew that look. I remembered it too well.

Once upon a time, he had looked at me the same way.

The whispers started almost immediately. No one bothered lowering their voices. Then Astrid approached me with a bright smile that immediately made my skin crawl.

“Everyone is being far too serious,” Astrid said, looking around at the crowd. “Celeste and I had some disagreements in the past, but that happens in every industry. People love turning professional competition into something dramatic.”

A few guests laughed.

Astrid smiled wider.

“The funny thing is that most of those rumors weren't even true. People just enjoy creating stories.”

Then she glanced at Rocco.

“And honestly, we've all moved on. Mr. Thornton and I are together now. Celeste has had plenty of time to accept that, and I'd hate for anyone to think we're still stuck in some old love triangle.”

Several people immediately looked at me.

My stomach twisted.

Astrid continued as if she were doing me a favor.

“We're all adults here. Relationships end. People fall in love with someone else. That's life. Holding onto bitterness forever just makes you look pathetic.”

The room grew quieter.

I looked toward Rocco but he said nothing.

That silence hurt more than anything she had said.

I decided I had stayed long enough.

I turned toward the exit.

Then Astrid stepped into my path.

Her smile remained perfectly in place.

“Leaving already?” she asked quietly. “That's disappointing. I went through a lot of effort to make sure you'd have a memorable evening.”

Something cold settled in my stomach.

“What did you do?” I asked.

Astrid's smile widened.

“You'll see.”

Before I could react, the massive screen behind us lit up.

A video began to play and the room immediately fell silent. My blood turned cold.

No!

The footage showed my brother. The same footage that had already destroyed him. The same footage Rocco had used to threaten me.

A wave of whispers spread through the crowd.

I rushed forward. “Turn it off!” I shouted. “Turn it off right now!”

Bodyguards immediately stepped in front of the screen— blocking and stopping me.

I shoved against one of them.

“Move!” I screamed. “haven't you people done enough?”

Nobody moved.

The whispers grew louder.

“That's the boy from the scandal.”

“I thought the family said he was a victim. Pff! Look at that boy. Having fun with Astrid brother.”

“Maybe they made the whole thing up.”

“No wonder they're always involved in controversy.”

Every comment felt like another blow.

My hands were shaking, my vision blurred. And Astrid simply stood there watching satisfied.

Waiting for every last person in the room to see it.

Only when the video was almost finished did she signal for it to be turned off.

Then she walked toward me.

“Celeste,” Astrid said. “Why are you making such a scene? Everyone was curious about what actually happened, so I thought it would be helpful to show them.”

I stared at her.

She shrugged.

“The case is over. The investigation is over. Your brother is gone. At some point you have to stop acting like the entire world owes him sympathy.”

My hands clenched into fists.

Astrid lowered her voice.

“And honestly, if I were you, I'd be grateful. Most people would be embarrassed to have that video attached to their family name forever.”

The room went silent.

She looked directly into my eyes.

“Your brother made his choices. The rest of us moved on months ago. You're the only one still clinging to a dead story because it's the only thing that gets people to look at you.”

Something inside me snapped.

Astrid saw it and smiled.

A cruel smile.

The smile of someone who thought she had already won.

“Go ahead,” she said softly. “Get angry. Cry. Scream. That's what you always do when things don't go your way.”

I lunged forward before I even realized I was moving.

My hand connected with her face with every ounce of strength I had left.

The crack echoed across the hall.

And for the first time that entire night, Astrid stopped smiling.

Astrid cried out the moment my hand connected with her face.

The reaction was immediate. She stumbled backward as though the slap had nearly knocked her off her feet, then threw herself straight into Rocco's arms. The movement was so quick and natural that it looked rehearsed.

Rocco caught her instantly.

The moment he saw the red mark forming on her cheek, his expression darkened. His eyes lifted and settled on me.

“Celeste, have you completely lost your mind?” Rocco demanded. “Do you realize what you've just done? There are hundreds of people here. You attacked someone in front of all of them because you couldn't control your emotions.”

My hands were still shaking.

My chest hurt so badly that every breath felt strained.

A laugh escaped me.

Not because anything was funny.

Because I honestly couldn't believe what I was hearing.

“That's what finally gets your attention?” I asked. “They played that video again and let strangers tear him apart even after his death. But Astrid gets one slap and suddenly you're outraged?”

I pointed toward the screen behind us.

“Where were you five minutes ago, Rocco? Were you standing somewhere else? Did you somehow miss everything that happened? Or do you only pay attention when she's the one getting hurt?”

The room fell silent.

Several guests exchanged uneasy glances.

For a moment, something flickered across Rocco's face.

Then it disappeared.

His expression settled back into the calm, controlled look he always wore when he wanted absolute authority over a situation.

“I can deal with what happened here,” Rocco said. “I can make sure this video goes nowhere and that nobody discusses tonight after they leave. But that only happens if you stop creating problems.”

His gaze hardened.

“The agreement still stands, Celeste. You follow it, and this ends here. You keep fighting, and the consequences won't stop with you anymore.”

My stomach dropped.

Rocco took a step closer.

“The next person caught in the fallout won't be someone you can protect. Think carefully before you force me to make decisions neither of us will like.”

The threat hung in the air between us.

I felt sick.

Completely sick.

My throat burned.

Tears gathered in my eyes no matter how hard I fought them.

“Rocco,” I said quietly, “I want you to remember this moment as clearly as I will. Because I promise you, I will never forget tonight. I'll remember every choice you made, every word you said, and every time you stood there and watched while they destroyed my family.”

For the first time, he didn't answer immediately.

Something shifted in his eyes.

Something that almost looked like discomfort.

Almost.

Then Astrid buried her face against his chest and began crying again.

The hesitation vanished. Rocco wrapped an arm around her shoulders. And just like that, I disappeared from his attention.

Again.

---

I left the banquet hall alone.

A few blocks away, the streets became quieter. The crowd noise faded behind me, and for the first time all evening, I thought I might finally be left alone.

Then someone grabbed me from behind.

Before I could react, several people surrounded me.

My heart dropped.

“What are you doing?” I shouted. “Let go of me. Right now. If this is about the party, you've already gotten what you wanted.”

Nobody answered. They ignored every word.

I struggled.

I fought and demanded they stop. But they kept on beating me, kicking and slapping me.

By the time they finally left, I was sitting on the pavement struggling to think clearly.

Then my phone vibrated.

A message arrived.

"How does it feel to be beaten by Rocco's men? Oh, sorry. He said that's your punishment for hurting me."

I bitterly laughes. So, Rocco sent them to silence me.

...

After I got home, I didn't tell my father.

What was the point? We only had a few hours left.

A few more hours and we'd finally leave this city behind.

That was all that mattered now.

So I packed quietly and pretended everything was fine. Pretended I wasn't falling apart.

Three hours. That's all we needed. Three more hours. Then the pounding started.

The front door shook beneath a series of loud knocks.

My father and I exchanged a look.

Neither of us spoke.

I opened the door. A middle-aged woman immediately pushed past me.

She walked into the living room and looked around as if she owned the place.

“What took so long?” she complained. “I've been standing outside forever. Is this how you welcome guests?”

I frowned.

“Who are you? And why are you in my house?”

The woman ignored the question entirely.

Instead, she studied me from head to toe.

“Hm,” she said. “Not exactly what I expected. The face isn't perfect, and you're a little older than I'd prefer. Still, you'll do.”

A chill crawled down my spine.

Before I could respond, she turned toward the doorway.

“Arthur, come inside. Stop standing out there.”

My blood froze.

Arthur stepped through the door.

The sight of him instantly dragged every horrible memory back to the surface.

I moved before I could stop myself.

“Get out!” I snapped. “Get out of my house right now. You should be in prison, not standing here pretending you're welcome.”

Arthur didn't look offended.

If anything, he looked entertained. “That's not a very nice way to greet family,” Arthur said. “Especially considering we'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.”

My chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”

Arthur laughed. “It's simple. I'll be living here soon, and you'll be living with me. Everybody has already agreed on it.”

I stared at him. “What?”

He looked around the room and smiled. “Nice place. I can see myself getting comfortable here.”

Then he looked directly at me. “And you'll make a decent wife.”

For a second, I genuinely thought I had misheard him.

“Have you lost your mind?!” I demanded.

Arthur shrugged. “Your brother's gone. I like men but I like women, too. My sister said somebody still needs to take responsibility for everything that happened. Since he can't do it anymore, you'll do.”

My father looked horrified.

I felt sick!

Arthur continued, clearly enjoying every second of it. “Astrid and Mr. Thornton already explained the arrangement. Honestly, I think it's generous. Most people wouldn't be willing to overlook everything your family has done.”

The room spun around me.

Then another voice spoke from the doorway.

A voice I knew better than my own. “Arthur.”

The room went silent.

I turned. Rocco stood in the entrance with Astrid beside him. Calm. Composed.

Looking like they had arrived for an ordinary visit.

Not for the destruction of someone else's life.

And judging by the complete lack of surprise on either of their faces, neither of them thought anything about this situation was strange.

Astrid crossed her arms and looked at me with that same fake, superior smile she always wore. It was the smile that made her look innocent to everyone else and made me want to scream.

“Celeste, try to understand our position. The documentary release is coming up soon, and your brother has disappeared. Nobody can contact him, and nobody knows where he is.” She sighed and shook her head. “My brother can't keep waiting forever. We need answers. Either you bring your brother here so we can clear everything up publicly, or you go with Arthur yourself. Those are the options.”

I stared at her. My entire body was shaking.

Arthur stood nearby with that disgusting grin on his face.

“My brother is dead.” My voice cracked. “He's dead, Astrid. He's gone. He's never coming back.”

For a second, surprise flashed across her face. Then she laughed.

“Oh, come on. Celeste, have you really reached the point where you'll lie about your own brother?” She rolled her eyes. “You know your documentary is falling apart. You know the evidence is weak now. But using your brother's death as an excuse? That's low, even for you.”

My chest hurt so badly I thought I might collapse.

“Rocco, what do you think?” Astrid moved closer to him and immediately softened her voice. “I've tried being patient. I've tried being understanding. But she just keeps making everything difficult.”

I wanted to throw up. The performance was flawless.

Rocco remained silent for several seconds before walking toward me. Every step felt heavy. Dangerous.

His hand wrapped around my wrist.

“Celeste, I've already told you how important this is. Astrid's documentary is about to launch. Arthur's reputation is being questioned everywhere, and the entire project is under pressure.” His grip tightened. “Are you really going to keep causing problems?”

Something inside me broke.

“My brother is dead.” My voice shook, but I didn't look away. “He died after everything Arthur did to him. I've said it over and over. How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?”

Rocco's expression darkened.

Not grief. Not sympathy. But disappointment.

Like I had failed him. Like I was being inconvenient.

“What? You want me to dig him up? You want his ashes brought here too?” I laughed bitterly. “Would that finally be enough for you?”

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Rocco released my wrist and shoved me hard toward Arthur.

“Take her.”

The words hit harder than the shove.

Arthur immediately smirked. “Well, looks like we're finally getting somewhere.” His eyes traveled over me, making my skin crawl. “I knew you'd end up with me eventually.”

My father finally broke.

“No! Leave my daughter alone!” Tears streamed down his face as he rushed forward. “You monsters already took my son. Haven't you done enough?”

Several people grabbed him and held him back.

I looked at him and gave him a small look.

Leave.

Please leave. Don't stay here. Don't fight them.

My father froze.

Then I lowered my head, pretending I had given up. Pretending I was defeated.

What choice did I have?

Arthur grabbed my arm and started leading me away. As we passed Rocco, I slowed slightly.

“Rocco.”

He looked at me.

A broken smile appeared on my face.

“You're the one doing this. You pushed me toward him yourself.” I held his gaze for one final second. “When the truth comes out one day, don't regret it.”

Something flickered in his eyes. But I didn't stay long enough to find out what it meant.

The bodyguards shoved me into Arthur's vehicle, and the doors locked immediately. Arthur sat nearby looking entirely too pleased with himself.

I stared out the window.

Thinking.

Waiting.

Watching.

Then I saw it! My chance.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I threw myself from the moving vehicle. Pain exploded through my body. My hands scraped against the ground, and my knees slammed into the pavement.

But I didn't stop. I got up and ran.

The woods ahead were familiar. The airport wasn't far. I just had to keep moving.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

A message from Dad.

My vision blurred immediately.

Dad: “Celeste, I'm already at the airport.”

Another message followed.

Dad: “If you can't escape, I'm not leaving either.”

Tears filled my eyes.

He was still waiting for me.

Ten minutes later, I finally stumbled into the airport.

After passing through security, I almost collapsed from relief. Dad grabbed my hand tightly, and I held on just as hard. Neither of us wanted to let go.

Outside the window, the plane waited on the runway, ready for departure.

I looked at it then at my father.

“Dad.” My voice shook, but this time it wasn't from fear. “We're leaving. We're finally leaving this place behind.”