Rita didn't get to rest even when the clock struck midnight. Seth had ordered her to kneel in the family chapel and confess.

For three years, night after night, she had been forced to recite scripture until 2:00 am. She stayed on the kneeler, her face pale and her whole body looking worn out and fragile.

Sometimes exhaustion pulled her eyes shut. But the moment she drifted off, the memories came rushing back.

Caught between the wreckage of love, family, and friendship, she had already been left in pieces. Guilt and helplessness kept her eyes burning as she dragged herself through one lonely night after another.

When the confession finally ended, Rita grabbed the wall for balance and pushed herself to her feet, shaking. It wasn't until a notification flashed on her phone that she remembered it was her birthday.

For three whole years, she had basically pushed the idea of birthdays out of her mind. It wasn't that she didn't want one. It was that Seth had told her she didn't deserve it.

Tara was still lying in that bed, and no one knew if she would live or die. How was Rita, the sister of Victor, who had caused all of this, supposed to feel right about celebrating anything?

Maybe it was the heartbreak of losing the person she loved, or maybe it was the misery of watching her family fall apart, but Rita wanted to show herself a little kindness in the last ten days she had left.

So, she opened the fridge, grabbed two slices of bread, spread some jam on them, and lit a candle she'd pulled from a dusty corner. That was the closest thing to a proper birthday wish she could give herself.

She chewed the dry, hard bread, but the jam that should've tasted sweet only left a rush of bitterness in her mouth.

When Rita suddenly felt something wet on her neck, she blinked and realized her tears had slipped down into her mouth. She sat curled up in the corner of the kitchen with a small, self-deprecating smile.

The candle flickered, and a drop of melted wax fell onto her wrist, sending a shiver through her. She didn't cry out. She just stared at the forget-me-not bracelet, her thoughts drifting.

It was the last birthday gift Seth had ever given her.

He'd held her hands, his eyes so soft they looked close to spilling over, and said, "A forget-me-not for you. So, you'll keep me in your thoughts. I'm the best gift you ever got, Rita."

But now, everything had changed.

Rita sat there until deep into the night, and just as she was about to leave, a low grunt slipped out of her. A rush of air hit her, and a strong hand shoved her back against the wall, pinning her in place.

Her eyes flew wide when she saw who it was.

Seth.

His whole body carried a cold, dark anger. "What makes you think you get to celebrate a birthday?"

His grip tightened as he spoke, like he meant to crush her shoulder. "Tara's still lying in a hospital bed, and you think you get to stand here like nothing happened?"

Rita's voice shook. "Then kill me. At least it'd be an ending for both of us."

"Don't even think about it!" Seth snapped, the raw hurt in her eyes only driving his rage.

His gaze darkened, fury simmering just under the surface. "Rita, Tara almost died because of one thing Victor said! She cares about her appearance more than anything, and now she's got shattered bones and hundreds of stitches on her face.

"She even had to get a full blood transfusion."

His voice cracked with a hard, unforgiving grief. "Even your entire family wouldn't be enough to make up for that."

Guilt kept gnawing at Rita, tightening in her throat like a blunt pressure until all she had left were ragged sobs.

A heavy, hopeless silence settled between them.

Then Winnie appeared beside Seth, rubbing her sleepy eyes, looking small and pitiful. She slipped her hand into his without thinking and leaned against his shoulder.

"Seth, I had a bad dream. Come help me go back to sleep."

When he saw the pale blue nightdress she was wearing, Seth froze. A quiet sadness settled in his eyes, the same pale blue. It was like he was seeing someone else in that dress.

Under his intense stare, Winnie flushed and tugged at the hem of her dress. "Thanks for the gift. I didn't expect you to remember that blue's my favorite."

Seth started to say something, but in the end, he only managed a small smile. "As long as you like it."

Left on the sidelines, Rita felt like she didn't belong, watching someone else's happiness from the shadows. A sharp twist hit her in the chest as the truth finally clicked.

Seth hadn't given her blue dresses because they suited her. He'd used them to show how much he loved Winnie, in his own secret way.

Rita had been a stand-in from the very beginning.

…

With only seven days left in the three years she was supposed to spend with Seth, Rita didn't see him again.

The butler, Gary Ford, looked at her with pity and said Winnie had come down with a bad cold while taking care of Tara. Seth had dropped everything at work to stay by her side.

The day Winnie recovered, a group of bodyguards suddenly grabbed Rita and tied her up.

"Ms. Anderson's already gotten to the bottom of everything. Every disaster that happened to the Joneses was because of you and Victor! He's waiting for you already!"

Rita went pale. She never imagined Winnie would go so far as to have Victor's ashes dug up.

On the day Victor died, Seth refused to let anyone else handle his body. In the end, it was Rita, small and fragile, who carried him on her back for almost 40 miles along the mountain road.

She stood there and watched as his brittle, wasted bones were burned down to nothing but a small handful of ash cupped in her palms.

No one dared risk Seth's anger by offering her a coffin, so in the middle of the night, she buried Victor herself in the rear garden. It was the only way she could give him any kind of peace.

The bodyguards had forced Rita to crawl on her knees. The pain snapped her out of the memory.

It was like someone had scattered gravel and glass shards over the smooth porcelain walkway just to make her suffer. Still, she pushed herself forward as fast as she could.

By the time she reached the rear garden, her knees were already swollen and torn open, leaving a long trail of blood behind her.

Rita's tears spilled down her cheeks the second she saw Victor's urn lying where it had been carelessly thrown. She lunged forward to grab it, forgetting the bodyguards still had her by the arms.

They yanked her back so hard her forehead slammed against the ground, leaving a bruise and making her look like a stray someone had just kicked.

Taking in how pathetic Rita looked, Winnie let out a low laugh and hooked a finger under her chin. Her nails raked across Rita's cheek, tearing the skin and leaving ugly lines.

Then she twisted a fist in Rita's hair and forced her to look up at her.

"Don't blame me for being ruthless. A brother's debt gets paid by his sister. Victor left Tara in a vegetative state, and you stole Seth. I'm just dealing with you for his sake."

Winnie smiled, cold and satisfied. "How about I feed his ashes to the dogs?"

Rita had a rag stuffed in her mouth, so all she could do was thrash and shake her head as hard as she could.

Maybe Winnie decided she was making too much noise. She shot the bodyguards a look.

A second later, they dumped a whole bucket of animal blood over Rita's head. The stench clung to her skin, leaving her looking even worse than a beggar on the street.

Winnie looked even more pleased, raising her brows. "You think you deserve to be Mrs. Jones?"

She let her gaze drag over Rita from head to toe, her slight frown showing just how disgusted she was. "Fighting me for Seth? With your IQ? Please. You're not even worth the trouble."

No one knew which word set Rita off, but something snapped. She fought like hell and managed to break free of the bodyguards. The moment she lunged for Winnie, a sharp crack split the air.

Rita hit the ground hard. Her palm skidded over an old wound and tore it open again. She pressed her hand against the fresh red mark burning across her cheek and looked up in disbelief.

Winnie was already curled in Seth's arms, trembling and crying like she'd just survived something awful. "Seth, thank God you got here. Rita almost killed me."

Seth's eyes went cold, anger gathering in them. He stared at Rita with a hatred that made her shrink even lower.

She struggled to push herself up off the ground, then dropped to her knees at his feet. "Seth, that's Victor. He was your best friend. He's gone now… Please, just let him rest."

Rita stayed on her knees like she couldn't feel a thing. Her skin was torn open, blood spilling onto the gray tiles and pooling into widening puddles.

"You promised you would never hurt me like this."

He was the one who'd held her close, who'd kissed her and whispered "forever" against her skin. He was the one who'd sat by her bed when she was sick and stayed awake all night.

Rita had been stupid to think her small, desperate love could thaw someone as frozen as Seth.

Maybe it was the grief in her eyes that made something like pity flicker across his face. But the moment he saw the redness at the corners of Winnie's eyes, whatever softness he'd left vanished without a trace.

"Seth, the psychic said Rita was bad luck and that anyone who got close to her was bound to get hurt. Even what happened to Tara was because of her."

The words hit Rita so hard she almost lost her balance. She stared at Seth, watching his eyes grow colder, until there was nothing left in her but pure despair.

She started to take off her clothes and begged, "Seth, if you give Victor's ashes back to me, I'll do anything you want."

Watching her give up on herself like that made Seth press his lips into a hard line. A sudden burst of anger shot through him for reasons he couldn't name, sharp enough to lock his jaw.

"Are you really that desperate?" he snapped.

Still, Rita reached for his belt.

Seth shoved her back, forcing the spike of anger down as he leaned into every word. "You're shameless!"

A second later, he flung Victor's ashes into the air. They scattered and disappeared.

Rita collapsed where she was, going limp like her soul had been ripped out, everything inside her going dark.

But then, under everyone's stunned stare, she slowly pushed herself upright and took Seth's hand.

Seth's hand snapped up before he could stop himself, and it came down hard. A bright red mark spread across Rita's cheek.

Then, like she was punishing herself, she grabbed his hand and slapped her own face again and again.

Seth tried to pull away, a vein jumping at his temple as he rasped, "Rita, you're out of your mind!"

But she just stared at him, completely still, her eyes flat and hollow. "Victor saved Tara's life. The Searles pulled the Joneses back from the edge. Seth, do you really need me dead to feel satisfied?"

Rita's eyes were shadowed by three years of hurt she'd carried. But before Seth could answer, the world tilted in front of her. Her knees gave out, and she hit the ground hard.

Right before everything went dark, she thought she saw Seth's face twist in panic.

What was he so scared of?

She turned the question over and over until the answer felt brutally clear.

If she died too soon, where else was he supposed to find a slave he could torment at will?

…

Nightmares closed in on Rita, wrapping tight and leaving her no way out. It felt like being back with Seth, like something sharp was wedged in her throat, turning every breath into slow torture.

Images flashed through her mind—Tara hooked up to tubes and monitors, her family's black-and-white memorial photos, and Seth's ice-cold face.

The same man who'd once promised her a future now pulled out a dagger and drove it straight into her chest.

Rita jolted awake and shot upright in bed, her eyes wide with terror and her face drained of color.

Seth had been sitting beside her. The second he heard her move, he tossed the cotton swab he'd been using to wet her lips straight into the trash.

When he realized she was awake, the worry in his eyes vanished, replaced by that familiar stay-away-from-me look.

"Looks like you're still alive."

Rita shut her eyes at the sarcasm in his voice. After a long hesitation, she said, "Seth, let's get a divorce."

Her voice was raw and broken, but every word landed heavy. "The Joneses don't need someone as cruel as me in their family."

Seth's bloodshot eyes went even redder, almost feral. He let out a humorless laugh, anger tightening his face. "You're doing just fine. Rita, divorce or not, that's my call."

He yanked down Rita's collar and ran his fingers over the tattoo on her chest, his eyes burning with a hungry kind of desire. "Victor ruined Tara's life. So, if I take it out on you, that's just karma evening things out."

Seeing how devastated she looked, he forced out one last line through clenched teeth. "If you bring up divorce again, I'll break your legs."

Rita didn't answer. Her silence was its own rebellion, and the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes was the only thing guarding what was left of her pride.

Irritation flickered across his face. He pulled her into his arms, his hands roaming as he started to reach under her dress.

Rita didn't miss the faint hickey on his throat. Her expression stayed calm. She even unbuttoned her clothes herself.

"We're enemies, remember? Doesn't that kill the mood?"

Seth's breath hitched for a split second. Whether it was anger or embarrassment, he hid it by snapping, "I feel gross every time I have to look at you or touch you!"

In the end, he didn't go any further.

Before he left, he called in his private doctor. Under Seth's orders, the doctor ignored Rita's protests and forced two injections into her arm.

"One's nutrients to keep your sorry life going. The other's birth control, so stop dreaming about having a baby."

Once he'd said his piece, Seth turned and walked out.

Rita stared at his back, the bluish vein at the base of her thumb twitching under her skin. Something twisted hard in her chest, a tangle of feelings she couldn't even name.

Did Seth love her? Or did he hate her?

She looked around the room. It was their master bedroom, the one they'd decorated together. Every corner still held traces of the nights they'd tangled up in each other like their lives depended on it.

And now, all that tangled love and hate between them had torn them apart.