The car stopped inches away from me, its tires screeching loudly. I fell backward, hitting my head and hands on the ground. Blood trickled down my forehead.

I tried to sit up, but everything spun around me. "Was this it? Am I going to die here? Mom... I'm sorry," I whispered silently, watching a man step out of the car and approach me. My eyes gave way, and everything went blank.

"

"Get me the doctor," a voice called urgently. "She's bleeding profusely. We have to stop the bleeding now." Other voices followed, accompanied by various sounds.

I had no idea where I was. My eyes could only catch a glimpse of the bright light that gleamed through as they slowly shut again, and everything turned blank once more.

Everything fell silent for a while as all I could see was darkness, which was slowly subsiding to a slight gleam of light. I gently opened my eyes, scanning the area and realizing I was in a hospital. My entire body ached, followed by a shooting pain in my head. The memories of the incident before the accident hit me—the sight of Dominic killing the three students echoed in my mind like a horrible nightmare that I desperately wanted to escape.

The ward door creaked open, and a man walked in. "Hi," he greeted, and I looked up at him. I was struck by his looks. His eyes were an incredible blue, but they seemed cold, too. It was like gazing at a beautiful, frozen lake."

"What happened? Why am I here, and who are you?" I managed to ask.

"Well, you ran straight into my car, and I guess here we are," he uttered with simple words.

I had no idea who he was, but I couldn't deny the situation I was in. However, I couldn't blame him—I was the one running, and I was drunk, so my steps weren't very steady.

I tried to sit up, and his gentle hands came to help me. "Be careful," he whispered.

It felt strange to me, as I hadn't received such care before. Many men who had crossed paths with me had only looked down on me like I was nothing, nothing more than a tool to quench their desires.

"So, do you want to tell me what happened? Who were you running from, or were you trying to commit suicide?" he questioned, his brow furrowed.

"It's nothing," I said, cutting the topic off. "Thank you for saving me and bringing me here to get treatment."

"You shouldn't really be thanking me. I couldn't just leave you there to die," he said, his hand gently touching my wrist, his eyes fixed on mine.

I truly owed him all the thanks. Not everyone would have taken that step. Most would have left the body or buried it, or even run over it again as they drove off.

"I-I need a phone," I whispered.

Mom must have been worried. I didn't come home last night, and the last thing I wanted was for her to be hooked up, thinking about my whereabouts in her current state.

"I need to call someone. Please, I need a phone," I pleaded in another whisper.

I watched his hands reach for his phone in his pocket, bringing it out and handing it to me. I opened it up and dialed my mom's number, calling my house landline, which persisted in ringing on and on, leaving me with no answer.

"They didn't pick up," his voice came through.

"Yeah, I think I'll try again," I replied, dialing the number once more, but there was still no response. Growing worried, I decided to try Mr. Ambrose’s landline instead, hoping he could check on my mom and let her know I was okay.

"I'll be right back," he said, standing up as I watched him leave the room.

My mind remained focused on the call, which persisted for a while before he finally picked it up.

"Good morning, Mr. Ambrose. Please can you--" I began.

"You! So you finally called," he uttered, a burning rage apparent in his tone.

"If this is about the money, Mr. Ambrose, we already discussed this. Please, can you check on my mom? I know it's a lot to ask, but--"

"Money? You can keep your damn money. I don't want you anywhere near the house. I never expected my life to be on the line for your sake," he said, cutting me off.

"Your life? On the line? What do you mean, Mr. Ambrose? I can't leave the house. My mom is sick; just give me a few more days to gather the money."

"Oh, it seems you don't know."

"Know what?"

"Well, while you were having fun last night, some men came in and attacked your mother." His words left a numb ringing in my ears, my face paling as I jolted.

"Attacked my mom?" I stammered through each word.

"What are you saying, Mr. Ambrose? What do you mean my mom got attacked?"

"If you want details, why don't you go check on her at St. Margaret's Hospital? Thankfully, I was let off with some threats and a minor attack; otherwise, I'd be dead by now. I don't want to ever see your face here in my house, Sierra. Don't even think of stepping foot here."

"Please, Mr. Ambrose, is my mom okay? Is she alright? Please tell me what happened, Mr. Ambrose." My pleas were met with an echo of silence as he hung up the call.

I laid the phone down on the bedside table.

"Mom? Why? Who could have done this?" Many questions resonated through each thought, but one thing was clear: I had to check on my mom. I had to see if she was okay. Nothing must happen to her.

My eyes flickered around, blurred by my tears that came crumbling down.

I carefully removed the IV drip and disconnected the blood transfusion line attached to my arm. I tried to steady myself as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, but as soon as I stood, my legs gave out, and I crumpled to the ground.

"I'm coming, Mom. I'm coming. Just wait for me," I said, using the bed as support, trying to get back up. My steps moved in a hazardous manner as I leaned against the wall for support.

Leaving my room ward, I gave a swift glance to the right and left for any nurses passing by. With none in sight, I picked up my pace, walking through the little crowd as I managed a way out of the hospital.

My breath was shaky, and my legs were almost giving way as I struggled through the street, limping with each step.

I couldn't even hail a cab; I had no money for that. How could my life possibly turn so much against me?

Luckily, the St. Margaret's hospital wasn't that far ahead. After a painful walk, I finally arrived at the hospital and approached the receptionist.

"Please, I'm here to see my mom. Where is she, please?" I mumbled, my hands cradling on the receptionist's desk as I leaned for support.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" The nurse's eyes flickered with concern, taking in my disheveled state.

I admit I wasn't healthy yet, but that wasn't my primary concern. The least it could do was leave me unconscious again, but I needed to see my mom and ensure she was okay.

"Please, Nurse, just tell me where my mom is. Her name is Emily Monroe." The nurse's gaze remained on me for a few seconds before refocusing on the screen displayed in front of her, presumably a tablet. Her fingers swiped through each page, scanning each name.

“She’s in Ward C, Room 305," the nurse replied, pointing down the corridor. "Take the elevator to the third floor, turn left, and her room will be the fifth door on the right.” The nurse uttered, prompting me to rush hurriedly toward the elevator. I tapped the third floor button, and the elevator doors slowly closed. I cradled my hands, and it gently lifted me up, arriving at the third floor. I rushed out, my eyes scanning and trying to locate my mom's ward without getting lost.

As my eyes caught sight of my mom's ward, I rushed inside without a second thought.

"Mom, Mom! Where is my mom?" I uttered breathlessly, my voice shaky with each attempt to utter another word.

The nurse's and doctor's eyes fixed on me, and between them, I witnessed a lady whose face had been covered up.

"Emily Monroe, time of death: 9:00 AM. Died through excessive bleeding," I heard the doctor utter.

My legs froze at the distance, my heart beating with each pound. My steps moved slowly, approaching further. The nurse and doctor present left the ward, leaving me alone to echo in my despair.

"Mom? Y-You can't do this to me, Mom. You just can't..." I uttered, my voice barely audible, overcome by my weeping breaths and the tears streaming down my eyes. I found myself crumbling to the ground, my hands gently cradling at the clothes as I slowly removed them, only for my eyes to gaze upon my mom's lifeless body.

How could this be? She couldn't just leave me like this. How could she do this to me? She was my only family left, the only one I had, and the only reason I saw for living.

But now she was gone, just like the rest I had known, and I was left alone in the end.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I wasn't there to protect you. I wasn't there to save you when this happened. I'm sorry, Mom. It's all my fault. Please, Mom, don't go. Please don't leave me here all alone, Mom. Please!" My hands tapped, hoping for her to wake up, hoping for her to just open her eyes.

To feel those warm hugs of hers again.

But I was left glaring at the truth. It felt like my heart had shattered into millions of pieces at the very sight. I couldn't catch any glimpse of understanding.

My eyes downcast, followed by my continuous weeping, persisted for many minutes until they ceased to flood anymore.

Wiping away the tears, my eyes caught sight of something on my mom's palm. As I opened up her clutched hand, my eyes landed on a ring necklace, with a symbol drawn around it. It felt like a shroud of pain hitting me as it all came to my remembrance.

It was the same ring necklace that I had witnessed around Demonic's neck while he ordered those students' deaths. Could this be them?

Could they have possibly found out that the one who witnessed it was me?

So my mom was dead, all because of me.

I had joined the club to save my mom, and in the same club, I had lost my mom.

"This can't be happening!" I yelled.

"It can't, no! Why? Why did this happen? Just why?"

The late night found me sitting on a chair as my mom's funeral was being conducted, with some people I had no idea who they were, walking in and offering their fake condolences. People who didn't show up when my mom and I needed them the most were now showing off some care at her burial. I felt like ripping each and every limb of theirs, piece by piece.

"So sad she had to go quite soon," a voice came through, as my eyes landed on Clarence, my so-called uncle who had snatched all my family's property from our grasp and rendered me and my mom homeless and on the street to suffer.

If he hadn't done that, maybe my mom would be here with me today.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, standing up, my eyes darkening with fury.

"Chill, my precious niece. She is family, and of course, I am here to pay my absolute respect," he said with a smirk.

"We don't need it. Please leave now," I said, my hands halting at the door path.

I watched him chuckle slightly, his presence only leaving an erupting raging anger in me.

I wanted to make him pay. If it was the last thing I did, I would make sure I took my family's wealth back from his grasp. I would never forgive him.

I watched as footsteps grew closer as he leaned in to whisper something in my ear.

"I am sure you have nobody and nothing to feed you, not even a house to live in. Why don't you stop all this drama and come over? I would be sure to treat you like a princess. It would be my dearest pleasure, but you just have to help me out also. I can make every single night of yours memorable. Don't let all this beauty go to waste now," he said, his hands laying on my shoulder in a soft touch.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. How dare he? Who does he think he is? After all, he had done, he had the guts to even say this at my mom's burial. I am not surprised it meant nothing to him; he had wanted us dead from the very beginning.

"How dare you!" I raised my hand for an attack, but it was left silenced in mid-air by his grip.

"Don't try acting all smart," he said, flinging my hand off. "I shall give you a few days to come to your senses. When you do, my mansion is just some steps away." I watched him light up a cigarette, inhaling it as he chuckled slightly before turning to leave.

I hated it. My mom deserved the utmost respect, and I would make sure he gave her that after I ripped it all from him. I wanted revenge on him, but the fact also remained that my mom didn't die in his hands.

Demonic De Santos. I cared less who he was; he had murdered my mother in cold blood. I would make sure he suffered every bit of pain that I would cause him. I had no one now; I was utterly left alone in my world.

But how did I intend on doing so? I spoke of it as though it was that easy. I was nobody, I had no money, no power, and I was thinking of taking somebody down. Was this just my foolish self-wanting justice for all the wrongs which had been done to me?

"I can make all your dreams come to reality. You want him to pay, don't you?" A whisper caught my attention as I turned, only for my eyes to land on him—the same stranger who had taken me to the hospital standing right before me.

How he knew I was here, I did not know, but why he was here, I was curious about. And what was he blubbering all about?

"Your uncle... don't you want to make him pay? And I am sure you also want something for yourself, maybe a dream job? Just name them all. I shall see to it that it is all done."

"What are you doing here?" I questioned.

He was the same stranger, but something was different about him. Those caring eyes from before had suddenly darkened, as his words led to a side which I did not understand.

"This doesn't seem like the right place for a discussion. Why don't we talk at the coffee shop nearby?" he uttered.

But why should I follow him? Him talking like we knew each other... I agreed I was grateful that he saved me, but him being here now? Was he stalking me?

"Just get to the point. I don't intend on following a complete stranger anywhere. Just tell me what you're doing here." I said.

I watched his eyes leave a scan, as though he was checking if anyone was staring. His step grew further, closing the distance between us.

"I am here to offer you a marriage contract—a mutual agreement between you and me. To the world, you shall appear as my perfect wife, and in return, I shall make sure to see through all your needs being fulfilled."

My mind took some minutes reeling at what he had just muttered. A complete stranger at that, now here uttering nonsense. "A marriage contract?" I scoffed at the word.

"What are you saying? A marriage contract? If you are looking for a perfect wife, I suggest you explore further and leave." I said.

"Oh, if I wanted a wife, I wouldn't be here." He said.

So was he trying to say I wasn't worthy of being a wife? But I wasn't planning on becoming one anyway. The last thing I would want was to be bound under another man's control again.

"Please leave now. You are a complete stranger, and here you are uttering those words like they are nothing but mere words. Do you expect me to accept a marriage contract with a total stranger at that?" I said.

"Absurd as it may sound, just know this—instead of being based on love, it is just a beneficial arrangement."

"And what do you stand to gain from all this?" I questioned. I could only come to the fact that he had his reasons. A stranger here asking for an arranged contract was something I couldn't wrap my head around.

He didn’t flinch, just looked at me with that steady gaze. "I have my reasons," he said simply, not offering anything more.

I raised an eyebrow, frustration prickling in my chest. "You’re really not saying much, are you?"

Without another word, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek business card. He handed it to me, his fingers brushing mine as he pressed the card into my hand. "This is where you’ll find me. If you decide you want to change things, to finally take control of your life… my door is open."

Before I could respond, he turned and began walking away, leaving me standing there, confused and alone.

A tiny voice inside me was tempted. I wanted revenge—on Dominic, on my uncle, on everyone who had taken everything from me. And for that, I needed protection. I needed power. Could this stranger really give me that?

I thought about the men at the club, how they’d be coming for me soon enough. I was already a target, a walking dead woman without a single ally in this fight. Maybe… maybe I didn’t have any other choice.

With a shaky breath, I glanced down at the card he'd given me. My eyes scanned the name printed in bold letters—*Adrian De Santos.* My heart skipped, and my blood ran cold.

So he was the mysterious brother, the second De Santos… Dominic’s brother. The same family I wanted revenge on.

My fingers tightened around the card as a chill swept through me. What kind of deal had I just stepped into?

I found myself crumbling to the ground as I tried managing a seat. How could this be? His mysterious second brother, but I had heard from all that he was a cruel being, more cruel than his brother Dominic De Santos. But if the rumors stood to be true, I couldn't deny the fact that I am alive right now, all because he had rushed me to the hospital.

So, how can such be labeled cruel, and his act also? Those caring eyes, even though I knew that his attitude displayed here today was different, I couldn't help but find a slight care in those eyes.

Was I seeing it this way because I had never received such care from anybody before? Nevertheless, one thing also stood out.

I wanted revenge on Dominic De Santos, and now his brother was here. Wouldn't that just put my life in more danger? Should I really be pulling this deal?

My mind flickered through different thoughts, echoing deep as I found myself lost in a void. On one path stood my revenge, and on the other stood a dangerous path which I was sure could lead to my death if I wasn't careful.

As the few people present for my mom's funeral slowly dispersed, I found myself all alone. I gently stood up and walked to the side where my mom's picture was displayed on the wall.

"I am sorry that I couldn't be there for you, Mom. I am sorry that you died all because of me. I wanted to save you, but it seemed I ended up being the reason for your death. Nevertheless, I am not the only one to blame..."

I said, raising my downcast, sobbing gaze up, glaring at my mom's picture.

"They walk so freely like nothing ever happened. They stomped on our life. How happy things could have gone. How happy our life could have been. But no, it had to all go wrong because of them. I will make them all pay, Mom. I will surely see to it that I get justice for your death. Then, I shall earn the right to apologize to you, Mom. I don't deserve your forgiveness, not until I bring the killers to justice and make them go through the hell that I went through."

I said, wiping the little tears that crumbled down my eyes as my gaze landed on the business card in my hand.

"Adrian De Santos... This can't be it, right, Mother? I know I want revenge, but I just can't. My life has been bound under the grasp of many cruel men. I just can't find myself falling into another, and mostly him, a devil many had said he was.""

I can't judge it all by his strange caring and unreadable side. I had only known him for a minute. I mean, he had only known me for a minute also, and he was here today, offering a marriage contract, yet he refused to let me know why he brought the contract. I was a complete stranger, and he was a well-known billionaire. Why me, of all the other options he had?

He could have simply found another girl to have such a deal with, so why?

I just can't, Mom. I can't. What if the words were true? What if he was the devil himself?

My mind wavered at the very thought. It might all be true, and it might not be true. Nevertheless, I couldn't see myself taking the risk.

If I wanted revenge, I would have to find another way. I just can't simply marry a stranger.

I retracted my eyes away from the business card, releasing a sigh after. As I left, a flickered smile lingered with the very least of despair.

I made my way outside the mortuary, finding myself on the dimly lit streets. The silence that echoed around me was deafening, as not many people were outside. It seemed the night had grown late, and all were presumed to be asleep while I wandered aimlessly on the streets.

I had nothing—no money, no food, and no place to call home. An empty void was all I felt, with all the thoughts roaming in my mind, leaving my head aching in pain.

Mr. Ambrose... Really, I couldn't go back to our house. He wouldn't allow me. Hearing his words after I had called, I was sure he meant them. He saw me as a threat to his life, which could have ended like my mother's death. So, the last thing he would do was allow me to return.

But would he, if I allowed him to have his way with me? Really, am I that desperate to consider such an offer? I spat at his words, yet now I was thinking of begging him for those words back.

If I kept wandering like this without any place to go or anything to eat, I would surely die eventually. I just had to beg him—that was my only option. I had to see to it that he helped me out, no matter what he requested. I just... gosh!

I stumbled to the ground, my hand joining the rough surface as I bled. I rested my back against the wall, my eyes landing on my bleeding hands as I tried to touch it, sending an excruciating pain coursing through my veins, leaving me numb for a few seconds.

I guess I was so lost in my thoughts that I couldn't even manage proper footsteps. Now, these wounds had surely added to the pain. As I tried tearing a piece of my dress to cover up the wounds, my eyes couldn't help but notice three men standing not far from me. Come to think of it, I had seen them while stepping outside the mortuary. Could it be? No, it couldn't.

I gently stood up, managing to walk, my eyes darting back and forth, gazing at them as their footsteps grew nearer. I drifted into an alley, my eyes still glaring at my back, hoping I was wrong—that I wasn't being followed. As I turned, I caught no sight of them anymore.

I couldn't help but feel a slight relief washing over me. I guess I must have been mistaken about being followed. As I tried to tie the cloth around my wound properly, which had almost loosened up again, I decided to continue my path. My only hope was to beg my landlord and see if he could help out—at least providing me with a place to sleep just for tonight. Then, I could think of what to do next.

Limping with each step, I walked through the dark alley. Then, as I arrived at a turn, my legs froze, my face paled, and my eyes caught sight of the same three men who I had presumed were following me earlier, now standing right in front of me. I watched them draw out sharp daggers, their eyes darkening.

My heart pumped, seizing for the moment, as all my mind could echo was 'run.'