Edmund rushed to the fountain. The second he saw Laura struggling in the water, he threw off his jacket and jumped in.

He lifted her out and held her close.

Laura shivered in his arms, sobbing. "Edmund... I was so scared... I was just talking to my sister, and she just... she pushed me... I almost drowned..."

"It's okay, you're okay," Edmund soothed, rubbing her back. Then he whipped his head around to face me, his eyes burning with rage. "Alessia! Are you insane?"

I watched them, my face a blank mask. "She had it coming."

"What did you say?" he stared at me, his disappointment absolute. "I thought you were just spoiled. I didn't realize you were completely unhinged."

"Apologize to Laura. Now."

I met his gaze and said flatly, "Not a chance."

That sent him over the edge. "Fine. Then I guess it's time I taught you what our family's rules really mean."

He gently set Laura down on a nearby bench and pulled out his phone. "Bring all the paintings from Alessia's room. Now!"

My heart stopped. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," he said, his voice like ice.

Ten minutes later, several of his men carried all the paintings from my room out to the terrace. They were my mother's work, the last things I had of her. The most precious things I owned.

"Edmund, you can't touch them!" I panicked, my voice trembling.

"Scared now?" he looked at me coldly. "I'll ask you one more time. Apologize to Laura, or..." He motioned for a guard to take one of the paintings to the lit fireplace nearby.

"No! You can't burn it!" I lunged forward, but his men held me back.

"Then apologize," Edmund said, his face unreadable.

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, but I said nothing. I would not apologize to the woman who insulted my mother.

"Very well," he nodded to the guard. "Burn it."

"No—"

I watched in horror as my mother's painting was tossed into the fire, instantly consumed by the flames. The orange glow lit up my pale face. My body trembled, but I held my ground.

"Still not apologizing?" Edmund asked.

I kept my mouth shut.

"Continue."

A second painting went into the fire. Then a third, a fourth... Each one felt like a knife in my heart, but I clenched my jaw and refused to give in.

Laura, still "weakly" shivering on the bench, had a look of vicious pleasure in her eyes. This was what she wanted: to see me break.

"This is the last one," Edmund's voice was still cold as stone. "If this one burns, there will be nothing left."

A guard held up the final painting. It was my mother's self-portrait, the one I treasured most. In it, she was smiling gently, just as she used to smile at me.

Seeing it, my defenses finally crumbled.

"Wait..." my voice was a raw whisper. "I... I'll apologize..."

"Louder. So everyone can hear," Edmund ordered, looking down on me. The crowd of guests that had gathered was watching the whole spectacle, whispering among themselves.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly bowed my head. "I'm sorry... Laura... It was my fault..."

"It's okay. How could I ever stay mad at my own sister?" Laura said weakly, but the triumph in her eyes was unmistakable.

Humiliation, rage, despair... it all washed over me at once. A wave of dizziness hit me, and the world went dark.

The last thing I heard before I passed out was Edmund's cold voice from above.

"This is a small punishment for your disobedience."

Then, I collapsed in front of everyone.

I don't know how long I was out. I woke up in my own room.

Turning my head, I was shocked to see Edmund sitting in a chair by my bed, holding my hand.

"You're awake," he said softly, a gentleness in his voice I'd never heard before.

I snatched my hand back. "Shouldn't you be with Laura? She was so terrified, after all."

Edmund frowned. "You are my fiancée."

"Oh?" I scoffed. "Then who was it that asked another woman to dance in front of everyone? Who burned my mother's paintings for another woman?"

He was silent for a moment. "I'll replace them with more valuable art. I can buy you a Monet, a Picasso, a Van Gogh, whatever you want."

"And you think that can replace my mother's work?" I stared at him, my heart filled with hate.

"Alessia, if I hadn't done that, your father would have punished you far more severely. I was protecting you."

"Besides, you're going to be my wife. You need to have the dignity of a Schroder—"

"Enough!" I couldn't stand to hear one more word about his damn family rules.

Seeing my cold defiance, Edmund's face darkened. "My patience has a limit, Alessia."

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I rested for a while longer, then dragged my exhausted body downstairs for some water. As I reached the landing, I heard voices from the living room.

"I've already prepared the deed transfer for this estate," my father was saying. "It will be Laura's dowry when she marries into the Schroder family."

"Wonderful," my stepmother said excitedly. "That will show the Schroders how much we value Laura."

I couldn't take it anymore.

This estate was designed by my mother. Every inch of it was filled with memories of her. The trees in the garden, the corners of every room—they were my entire childhood.

I stormed into the living room. "What gives you the right? My mother designed this estate!"

My father and stepmother looked at me without a hint of guilt.

"The legal owner of this property is me," my father said coldly. "I can do whatever I want with it."

My stepmother smirked. "Alessia, since you gave up the engagement, you have to face the consequences. Besides, you almost killed Laura last night. Consider this compensation."

"She deserved it! She insulted my mother first!"

As we argued, Laura came slowly down the stairs, looking frail.

"Father, please don't blame my sister," she said softly. "She was probably just upset."

She walked over and took my arm, pretending to make peace. "Sister, let's not fight anymore, okay?" But as she leaned in, she whispered viciously in my ear, "Don't worry. Once I take over, I'll get rid of everything of your mother's. Even her grave..."

Rage consumed me. I tried to rip my arm away.

But in that instant, Laura cried out "Ah!" and threw herself backward, falling to the floor.

"Laura!" my stepmother screamed, rushing to her side.

Tears streamed down Laura's face as she looked at my father. "Father, I just lost my balance. Please don't blame sister..."

My father's face was purple with rage. "Look at your sister, then look at you! When will you stop hurting her?"

He didn't give me a chance to explain. He walked to the wall, took down the horsewhip hanging there, and brought it down hard across my back.

CRACK!

The pain was searing, white-hot. It nearly buckled my knees, but I bit my tongue and refused to make a sound. My eyes were locked on Laura, still "sobbing" on the floor.

She looked at me and a slow, triumphant smile spread across her face.

I didn't cry. I started to laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" My reaction infuriated my father. He raised the whip again. "It seems one lash wasn't enough!"

Just as he was about to strike again, I lunged for Laura. Her eyes widened in terror as I grabbed her and shoved her, hard, right over the edge of the staircase.

"AHHH—!" Laura let out a bloodcurdling scream as she tumbled down the stairs, her body bouncing off the steps before her head hit the wall at the bottom. She went limp and passed out.

Ignoring the fire on my back, I smiled. "That push? Yeah, that was all me."

My stepmother shrieked.

My father was shaking with rage. "Get out! Get out of my house! From this day on, you are no longer my daughter!"

I had already seen his true colors. It didn't even hurt. "Good. I don't want to be your daughter!"

He had his guards throw me out, tossing my suitcase after me.

Just then, the sky opened up. Cold rain soaked me to the bone. The whip-lash on my back stung like a thousand needles. My temperature started to rise, my head spun, and my legs felt weak.

I dragged my heavy suitcase through the rain, my vision blurring. Finally, I couldn't go on. I collapsed on the cold, wet street.

Sometime later, I vaguely felt a pair of strong arms lift me and place me in a warm car. The heater brought some feeling back to my frozen body.

When I woke up again, I was in a bedroom I didn't recognize, in an unfamiliar mansion.

"You're awake?"

I turned my head and saw Edmund, dabbing ointment on the wound on my back. He was surprisingly gentle, his movements practiced, as if he'd tended to wounds like this many times.

"How did you get this?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

I gave him a cold smile. "If I said Laura did it, would you believe me?"

Edmund paused, then automatically defended her. "That's impossible. She's always so gentle and kind..."

I let out a bitter laugh and said nothing more. It was the answer I expected.

Just then, the doorbell rang. The butler entered. "Don Schroder, Miss Rosetti is here. She says she's come to take the Signora home."

"Don't call me that," I cut him off. "We're not married yet."

The butler froze. Edmund's face grew even darker.

"Edmund..." Laura stood in the doorway, pale, a bandage wrapped around her head. She looked incredibly weak. "Father kicked my sister out, and I was so worried... Even though she pushed me into the fountain, and then down the stairs... we're still sisters. I couldn't just leave her out there. I came to take her home..."

The performance was so sickening I almost threw up. I pushed myself up, ignoring the searing pain in my back.

"Save the act. It's disgusting."

"Alessia!" Edmund glared at me. "Laura is here out of concern for you after everything you've done to her, and this is how you treat her?"

"Concern?" I laughed coldly. "She wishes I was dead."

"You are unbelievable!" Edmund pointed a finger at me. "Apologize to Laura now!"

"In your dreams!"

Edmund lost it. He strode over to drag me, and Laura theatrically tried to get between us. In the scuffle, she stumbled backward into a heavy bookshelf.

As the shelf teetered, about to fall, Edmund instinctively dove for Laura, who was closer. He wrapped his arms around her, shielding her with his back as the massive piece of furniture came crashing down.

On the other side, I couldn't get out of the way in time. The corner of the shelf slammed down on my right hand. A gut-wrenching pain shot up my arm.

"Ah—!" I screamed, feeling the bones crush.

I stared at my mangled, bloody hand, but the pain in my heart was worse. This was my racing hand... my most prized possession.

Forgetting our fight, I looked at Edmund, pleading. "Please, get me to a hospital. My hand..."

Edmund's face changed. He started to move toward me, but Laura's weak voice stopped him. "Edmund... my head hurts so much..." she whimpered. "But... sister's hand looks really bad. She loves racing so much. Her hand is everything to her..."

Hearing that, Edmund's expression became complicated. Finally, his eyes grew cold. He turned, scooped Laura into his arms, and strode out of the room.

Before he left, he looked back at me and said, "This is what you get for hurting Laura. As for your hand... the wife of the Don has no business racing cars anyway."