My half-sister. She was 3 years older than me. The daughter my father had with another woman years before he met my mother.

Nobody knew she existed until she arrived carrying a DNA test and a stack of documents proving who she was. By then, her mother had already been dead for years. She claimed she'd grown up alone in foster homes and shelters with no family to rely on. An orphan. A pitiful girl.

At least that was how she presented herself.

Big innocent eyes, a soft voice, constant mistakes, always looking helpless. People couldn't help wanting to protect her.

Especially Apollo.

She joined Riccio Group as Apollo's assistant shortly afterward, and that was when everything started changing.

At first, it seemed harmless.

One evening during dinner, Apollo chuckled while scrolling through his phone.

“You know that girl nearly shot a hole through my office wall trying to learn how to use a handgun.”

I looked up and he was smiling.

“She spent twenty minutes arguing that the safety was broken before realizing she hadn't even switched it off.” His laugh deepened. “So I had to teach her myself.”

Something uncomfortable twisted inside my chest.

Apollo rarely talked about anyone, yet here he was talking about Agatha again and again.

“She's a disaster,” he continued. “Every time I give her a simple task, she somehow turns it into a crisis.”

His voice carried a warmth I hadn't heard in months.

Why did it hurt so much? Why was I jealous over something so small?

I told myself I was overthinking but I was wrong.

...

Months later, Agatha accidentally handed sensitive documents intended for one of Apollo's allies to the wrong family. The mistake nearly caused a major conflict and jeopardized a deal worth hundreds of billions.

Apollo walked into the conference room. Everyone expected him to explode— instead, he just laughed.

Then he reached over and ruffled Agatha's hair.

“Our Agatha's just too innocent.”

She'd nearly caused a disaster.

Yet he wasn't angry.

Another time, Agatha wandered into my dressing room and became fascinated with a vintage diamond necklace my mother had left behind. It was one of a kind and impossible to replace.

The next day, it was found shattered across the marble floor.

I knew exactly who had done it.

Agatha stood nearby with a guilty expression while Apollo examined the broken jewelry then he looked at her and smiled.

“It was an accident.”

That same afternoon, he commissioned an even more expensive piece.

Not for me, for Agatha.

I remember standing there wondering whether I should laugh or cry.

Had I become invisible?

Or had I simply stopped mattering?

The answer came on my twenty-first birthday.

The entire ballroom had been decorated for me. Guests filled every corner, and a towering cake stood in the center of the room.

Apollo was beside me cutting the first slice when he suddenly paused. His gaze drifted somewhere far away, and a small smile appeared on his face.

“Agatha loves tiramisu.”

The room fell silent.

Apollo glanced at the cake.

“If she were here, she'd probably claim the biggest slice before anyone else could touch it.”

Everyone laughed. Everyone... except me.

Something shattered inside my chest.

Because I finally understood.

Agatha wasn't just some assistant. She wasn't just my half-sister.

She'd already moved into Apollo's heart completely and there wasn't any room left for me.

...

After that, Agatha stopped pretending.

She'd show up at the mansion whenever she wanted. Sometimes she'd cling to Apollo's arm. Sometimes she'd spend hours in his office. Sometimes she'd look at me and smile, a smile nobody else seemed to notice, a smile that felt poisonous.

I swallowed every insult, every humiliation, every bit of pain. I kept telling myself to endure it.

Then she started disappearing.

The first time, Apollo nearly tore the city apart looking for her.

When she returned crying and trembling, she immediately pointed at me.

Apollo believed her.

The second time, he believed her.

The third time, he believed her.

The fourth time, he believed her.

By the eighth time, I already knew how it would end.

Every disappearance followed the same pattern. Before vanishing, Agatha would secretly tell me where she planned to go before tilting her head with a sweet, innocent smile.

The kind everyone loved.

“Do you think Apollo's going to lose his mind looking for me again?”

I never answered. She'd just giggle before leaning closer.

“Do you think he'll punish you this time too?”

My hands clenched.

Agatha's smile widened because she already knew the answer.

She disappeared eight times.

And I suffered eight times.

Apollo never once questioned her accusations, never once asked for proof, never once believed me.

I lost every single time.

That night, after he'd buried me alive in a coffin full of rats and maggots because of her, I finally fell asleep.

But even in my dreams, Apollo wouldn't leave me alone. His face kept appearing, growing closer, colder, more terrifying with every passing second.

I woke up gasping.

My pajamas were soaked with sweat, and my body trembled uncontrollably. For several seconds, I couldn't tell whether I was still trapped inside that coffin, whether rats were still crawling over me, whether I was even safe.

Eventually, reality settled in.

I sat up and stared out the bedroom window. A bitter laugh escaped my throat.

What was I still holding onto?

A promise?

A memory?

A ghost?

Slowly, I opened the wooden box hidden at the back of my closet. At the very bottom was an envelope.

My acceptance letter.

To the European Forensic Science Institute.

I'd secretly applied months ago, hoping to study forensic science and criminal investigation. It was the only future I'd ever imagined for myself that didn't revolve around Apollo.

The letter had been sitting there ever since because I knew he'd never let me go.

I stared at it for a long time before picking up my phone. My fingers trembled as I dialed the number.

“Mr. Brahms...” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I've made my decision.”

A brief silence followed.

“I accept your offer.”

Mr. Brahms sounded genuinely relieved. “Elarisse... are you certain?”

“I am.”

“You've turned this opportunity down several times before. I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind.”

I forced a weak smile even though he couldn't see it.

“My circumstances have changed.”

He hesitated. “But your health... and your family. Will they allow this?”

Family?

The word almost made me laugh.

Apollo had stopped being my family a long time ago.

The first time I'd talked about studying overseas, he'd patiently talked me out of it.

“Elara.” He'd cupped my face so gently. “Be good. Your body's too weak for long flights. Once you're healthier, I'll take you anywhere in the world myself.”

Back then, I'd believed him.

Later, everything changed.

Whenever I brought it up, his face would darken.

“I promised your father I'd look after you.” His voice would turn cold. “So stop making shit difficult for me and stay where you're supposed to.”

After that, I never mentioned it again.

Not even after my acceptance letter arrived.

“I don't have any family anymore.” My voice came out barely above a whisper. “Mr. Brahms... I just want to build a life that's mine.”

A quiet sigh came through the phone.

“I understand. Orientation begins in a week. You should start preparing.”

“I will.”

As soon as the call ended, the front door downstairs slammed open so violently the whole house seemed to shake.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the mansion.

My heart clenched.

Apollo.

A second later, my bedroom door burst open.

He walked in wearing a black suit, his expression cold enough to freeze the room. Without saying a word, he grabbed my wrist hard.

Pain shot through my hand. The skin was still raw from clawing at that coffin yesterday, trying to escape the rats and maggots.

I flinched.

“Apollo...” I tried pulling away. “You're hurting me.”

He didn't even slow down.

“Where are we going?” I asked desperately.

His grip tightened.

“To the hospital.” His voice was flat. “You're going to apologize to Agatha.”

My steps froze.

“What?”

He finally looked at me. His dark eyes held nothing but anger.

“She twisted her ankle because of your bullshit yesterday.” His jaw clenched. “She cried all fucking night. Her eyes are still swollen. And you're going to apologize.”

For a moment, I honestly thought I'd heard him wrong.

She had only sprained her ankle but Apollo had buried me alive in a coffin crawling with rats and maggots and somehow, I was still the villain?

“Apollo...” Every breath hurt. “I didn't kidnap her. I told you already. I only remembered the location because Agatha posted it herself a few days ago.”

“Keep talking.” His eyes narrowed. “Let's hear what other bullshit you've come up with.”

I stared at him.

“You know...” His voice was dangerously calm. “Your father was one of the kindest men I ever knew.”

He took another step closer.

“So tell me. How the fuck did a man like him end up raising someone as rotten as you? Why can't you be like Agatha?!”

Everything inside me went still.

Dad...

This was the first time Apollo had mentioned him since the funeral. And he used my father to tear me apart.

Something inside my chest cracked.

Apollo suddenly kicked the bookshelf beside me. The massive shelf crashed onto the floor, sending books flying in every direction. The deafening noise made me jump.

He pointed toward the door.

“I don't give a damn whether you admit it. You are going to apologize. You can walk there, or my men can drag your ass there. Your choice.”

Before I could answer, a familiar voice came from the hallway.

“Please...”

Agatha limped into the room. A bandage wrapped around her ankle, and her swollen red eyes filled with tears the moment she saw Apollo.

“Apollo...” she sniffled. “Please don't blame my sister.”

She looked so fragile... so fake innocent like she'd never hurt anyone in her life.

“It wasn't her fault. I left on my own. My sister didn't do anything.” She wiped away another tear. “I made everyone worry. I'm sorry...”

Then, to my shock, Agatha slowly knelt in front of me.

She lowered her head as if she were the one asking for forgiveness.

Apollo's eyes turned bloodshot the second Agatha dropped to her knees.

“Agatha!”

His voice cracked with panic as he shoved me aside so hard I nearly lost my balance. He rushed over and gathered her into his arms as though she were made of glass.

“Apollo... p-please put me down.” Tears streamed down Agatha's face as she struggled weakly against his embrace. “I should be the one apologizing. I only made things worse between you and my sister. If anyone deserves to be punished, it's me. I'd rather be the one who dies.”

“Don't say something so ridiculous.” Apollo's voice softened instantly as he carried her to the sofa and carefully settled her down. “None of this is your fault. As long as I'm here, nobody's going to hurt you.”

Only after making sure she was comfortable did he turn to face me.

The warmth vanished from his face.

Only fury remained.

His stare felt sharp enough to kill.

“Happy now?” His voice was terrifyingly calm. “Is this what you wanted to see? Watching her cry, forcing her to kneel, making her blame herself. Does that finally satisfy you?”

I dug my nails into the blisters covering my palms. The wounds I'd gotten from clawing at that coffin yesterday split open again, sending pain shooting through my hands.

Good.

At least the pain kept me from crying.

Without warning, Apollo strode toward me, grabbed both my shoulders, and slammed me onto the marble floor. The impact knocked the air from my lungs.

“Kneel.” He leaned over me, his eyes burning with anger. “You're unbelievably stubborn. Apologize to Agatha, admit you were wrong, and I'll end this here.”

Slowly, I straightened my back.

Even while kneeling...

I refused to lower my head.

Apollo's expression darkened.

“So that's your answer?” He let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Fine. If you don't want to apologize, you'll spend the next ten days in the punishment room. You'll copy every word of De Sangue's code of loyalty and family rules until your fingers bleed.”

Every ounce of color drained from my face.

The punishment room.

Ever since Agatha entered our lives, Apollo loved locking me in there.

It was a tiny concrete room with no windows, lit by nothing but a single candle. There was no phone, no books, no contact with anyone. Only endless pages of De Sangue's rules waiting to be copied again and again.

Hour after hour. Day after day. The silence alone was enough to drive anyone insane. Every time I walked out, it felt like I'd left part of myself behind.

No! I couldn't go back.

Seven days. I only needed to survive seven more days, then I'd leave.

Forever.

I couldn't ruin everything now.

I looked around the mansion. Dozens of De Sangue soldiers stood silently along the walls, every exit heavily guarded. Even if I wanted to run, there was nowhere to go.

Humiliation crashed over me.

Slowly, I lowered my head and bowed.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

My forehead struck the cold marble floor with each bow.

“I... I'm sorry, Agatha.” My voice was barely audible. “I'm sorry for everything. Please... forgive me.”

Agatha hurried over and pretended to help me to my feet.

“Oh, Sister...” Her eyes filled with tears as she gently held my arm. “Please don't do this. I forgave you a long time ago. I never wanted things to end like this between us.”

The moment she pulled me closer, her lips brushed against my ear.

The sweetness disappeared from her voice.

“You lost again,” she whispered with a smile. “I told you Apollo would always choose me. No matter what happens, you'll never win.”

She stepped back immediately, tears filling her eyes once more as if nothing had happened.

I bent down to pick up my bag from the floor. The zipper had come undone during the struggle, and a white envelope slipped out.

It landed at Apollo's feet.

My heart stopped.

Apollo bent down and picked it up.

His brows slowly furrowed as his eyes scanned the envelope before lifting to meet mine.

“What's this?” He turned it over in his hand, studying it. “Since when do you keep documents hidden in your bag?”

Panic exploded inside me and without thinking, I lunged at him.

Apollo wasn't expecting it.

We both stumbled, and the envelope slipped from his hand.

I grabbed it before he could read another word.

My heartbeat thundered so loudly I thought everyone in the room could hear it.

“It's nothing.” I forced a smile despite the panic clawing at my chest. “Just thick paper. I bought it for a craft project, that's all.”

Apollo frowned as he dusted off his suit.

“For fuck's sake, Elara.” He sounded more irritated than suspicious. “You're not a little kid anymore. Stop acting so damn clumsy.”

Quietly, I released the breath I'd been holding.

He didn't ask another question.

Instead, he adjusted his cuffs.

“There's a charity banquet tomorrow night.” His gaze settled on me. “Get yourself ready. You're coming with me, and don't make another scene.”

I wanted to refuse.

More than anything.

But I couldn't risk making him suspicious.

Not now.

Just seven more days.

I only had to endure seven more days.

The following evening, Apollo's black armored Rolls-Royce came to a stop outside one of Chicago's most luxurious hotels.

The moment I stepped out, cameras flashed from every direction.

The host hurried over with a bright smile.

“Mr. Riccio, it's been far too long. We're honored that you could attend tonight.”

His gaze shifted to Agatha.

She wore a breathtaking custom-made crimson gown, while diamonds glittered around her neck. Anyone looking at her would have assumed she belonged at Apollo's side.

The host smiled knowingly.

“And this beautiful young lady must be your fiancée, Miss Redd.”

Agatha covered her mouth with a soft laugh.

“Oh, you've misunderstood.” She lowered her gaze shyly before looking at me. “I'm only Mr. Riccio's assistant... and Elarisse's half-sister. My sister is the real fiancée. She's just always been sick, so fragile and delicate. I could never compare to her.”

Apollo chuckled.

Instead of correcting the misunderstanding, he reached over and lightly flicked the tip of her nose.

“You little troublemaker.” His voice carried unmistakable affection. “You talk too much. Nobody outside is going to spoil you the way I do, so you'd better behave.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

Agatha stuck out her tongue playfully before wrapping both arms around Apollo's.

“So that's all I'll ever be to you?” She looked up at him with innocent eyes and smiled. “Just your little assistant? Or... are you planning to make me something more, Don Apollo?”

Apollo let out a low chuckle and gently flicked her forehead.

“You've got a mouth on you.” His eyes softened with amusement. “Keep talking like that in public, and people are really going to think I spoil you too damn much.”

She pouted dramatically before resting her head against his shoulder anyway.

“Then let them think whatever they want.” She hugged his arm even tighter. “It's not like I care what other people say.”

I couldn't watch anymore.

Every second felt like another knife twisting inside my chest.

Quietly, I turned around.

I just wanted to leave.

“Elara.”

Apollo's voice stopped me cold.

I froze.

The warmth he'd shown Agatha disappeared the instant he looked at me.

“Where the hell do you think you're going?” His brows knitted together. “The banquet's about to start, so don't wander around making people look for you.”

“I...” I lowered my eyes. “I just needed some air. I'll be back in a minute.”

He didn't even respond.

Instead, he pulled Agatha closer as they walked toward the ballroom.

“Enough.” His voice turned gentle again. “Quit acting spoiled. Are you trying to embarrass me in front of everyone?”

Agatha giggled.

“Maybe.” She smiled mischievously. “What if I like seeing you panic over me?”

Apollo shook his head with a helpless smile.

“You little brat.” He sighed with obvious affection. “One of these days, you're really going to test my patience.”

I followed behind them.

Always two steps behind.

My simple white dress looked painfully plain beneath the glittering chandeliers. Walking behind them, I looked less like Apollo's fiancée and more like someone trailing after them with their belongings.

People noticed.

Of course they noticed.

High society had always been the same. They worshipped power and trampled anyone who'd fallen. Apollo's attitude toward me told them everything they needed to know.

Every glance I received carried either pity or contempt.

After several rounds of drinks, someone stepped into my path.

The smell of expensive liquor reached me before I even looked up.

Lambert Gray.

The eldest son of the Gray family.

His face was already flushed from drinking as he lazily swirled the whiskey in his glass while looking me up and down.

“Well...” A disgusting grin spread across his face. “If it isn't the famous Miss Redd. So this is what the little princess looks like up close. My God... no wonder your father hid you away. You really are beautiful.”

The moment I recognized him, my blood ran cold.

Years ago, he'd tried to kidnap me.

His men had surrounded my car outside the hospital. If Apollo's bodyguards hadn't arrived in time, I didn't even want to imagine what would've happened.

Apollo had nearly started a war with the Gray family over it.

People said he'd broken into Lambert's estate that very night and beaten him so badly that even his own mother couldn't recognize him.

Lambert had never forgotten.

Neither had I.

I immediately took a step back.

“I don't want any trouble.” My voice stayed calm despite the fear creeping through me. “Please move aside and let me pass.”

He laughed.

“But I do.” His smile widened. “I've been waiting a long time to run into you again.”

His hand shot out and wrapped around my waist before I could react.

I gasped.

His other hand slid toward my thigh.

My entire body stiffened.

“Let go of me!” I struggled against his grip. “Don't touch me!”

Lambert leaned closer until I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“What are you acting so fucking innocent for?” He smirked shamelessly. “Everyone knows Don Apollo's got himself a new favorite. You've already been thrown away, but I don't mind. I'll gladly take what's left.”

My stomach turned.

Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest wine glass and threw its contents straight into his face.

Red wine drenched his expensive suit.

For one brief moment...

The entire ballroom fell silent.

Then Lambert exploded.

“You bitch!” He staggered backward, pointing at me with a furious expression. “How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone? Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?”

His roar echoed through the ballroom.

Every guest turned toward us.