Confrontation

Dianne pointed the flashlight in my face.

I forced myself to stay calm and lifted my bruised hand. "My hand hurts too much. I can't sleep. I just wanted to get some air on the balcony."

She suddenly laughed, soft and strange. Then, she walked toward me with a glass of water, swaying slightly with each step. "Riley, you're having a fever. Going outdoors will worsen your condition. Here, have some water."

At that moment, she released her grip on the glass.

It shattered on the floor.

"What is it? What happened?"

The noise woke Christopher.

He came out in his wheelchair. When he spotted me at the door, he went pale. "Riley, where are you going?"

I looked at the two of them, still putting on their little act, and something inside me finally snapped.

"Stop pretending, Christopher. Your legs are fine. Dianne isn't sick either. The two of you have been lying to me this whole time, haven't you?"

He froze.

I raised my blistered hands, my voice shaking. "It hurts so much. I just want to go to the hospital and rest for once. Please let me go. Haven't I done enough already?"

A hint of panic flashed across his eyes. He instantly grabbed my wrist, and his fingers pressed onto where it hurt most.

"Let go of me, Christopher! You're hurting me!" I cried in pain and broke into a cold sweat.

However, he tightened his fingers around my wrist instead of releasing me.

"I know you're hurting, Riley, but I swear it's the last time. Let's get married after you pass the test, all right?"

The anxious look on his face should have felt familiar. Instead, it felt terrifying.

Two years ago, he rushed at me and shielded me without a second thought the moment the car accident happened.

His gesture deeply touched me, and I swore to take good care of him for the rest of my life.

Back then, Declan—who had ties to both the underworld and the police overseas—had warned me.

"That accident looked staged. Come home, Riley. I'll cover his medical expenses. I'll support him for life if I have to. Just don't trust him."

I refused to listen to him.

I thought Declan was only saying that because of the kind of world he moved in.

In a rage, he cursed and threatened to leave me to my fate.

Now, it seemed he had seen the truth long before I did.

"No. I don't want to marry you! I don't love you anymore, Christopher. I want to go home and back to Declan…"

I broke into tears and struggled, trying to shake him off.

Fury burned in Christopher's eyes when he heard my words. "This is your home. You don't need to go anywhere. Who do you plan to marry if it's not me?"

Dianne smirked. "Chris, since she already knows everything, why wait? Let's do it tonight."

After a moment of silence, he nodded.

"You're right. No need to drag this on."

Then, he rose from the wheelchair. He covered my mouth and threw me over his shoulder.

I let out a muffled protest.

The dark, wet basement workshop was only two blocks away.

"Forgive me, Riley. I just love you so much."

The streets were empty at three in the morning, and the fever made my head spin.

…

Christopher brought me to the basement and laid me on the workbench. He kissed my forehead. "Don't worry, Riley. I've asked the owner to adjust the temperature to the right setting. You won't get hurt at all."

A sensation of terror coiled around my neck like a snake.

"Just close your eyes, and it'll pass. We'll get married once you wake up." Then, he turned to the workshop owner. "Please be careful not to hurt her."

"Of course, Mr. Turner. You can leave it to me."

…

Then, the door slammed shut.

"Who does he take me for?"

As soon as Christopher was out of sight, the owner clicked his tongue disdainfully and leisurely walked up to me.

He picked up a pair of scissors and flashed them at me, revealing something horrible. "There's no way I'm monitoring the temperature. Miss Emerson paid extra to make sure you don't make it out of this."

The Truth

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

The owner looked almost amused by my fear. He didn't rush to torture me. Instead, he pulled a chair and sat beside me.

"You're going to die anyway," he said lazily. "What difference does it make if I tell you?" He leaned back and grinned.

"Miss Emerson isn't Mr. Turner's adoptive sister. Their families have known each other for generations. They grew up together. The Turner family never thought you were good enough, so they made up this whole 'Loyalty Test' to force you two apart. Miss Emerson pretended to be his younger sister so she could keep an eye on you. And as for why there had to be 998 tests…"

He stood up, walked over, and patted my face. A spark of cruel satisfaction glinted in his eyes.

"She's mad that you stole her man. She wanted to watch you crawl, watch you beg with no dignity left, watch you wear yourself out for scraps. Only then would she be satisfied. You're the only thing standing between her and marrying Mr. Turner."

His gaze slithered over me as he flashed his yellowed teeth.

"You have a pretty face and an amazing body. Too bad Miss Emerson ordered us to ruin your face first. You'll die ugly. Then, we'll seal you inside the silicone and let you suffocate."

"Still…" He paused, eyes roaming over me with open lust.

Then, with one sharp motion, he sliced my shirt open. The fabric tore instantly, exposing the camisole underneath.

"It'll be a waste to let you die easily. Since you'll die tonight, why don't you let my boys take their reward first?"

At that, a bunch of burly men surrounded me. Their strong hands pressed me onto the workbench.

"Go away! Get your hands off me!"

I thrashed wildly, my nails raking across their arms hard enough to draw blood.

They didn't like that, so they slapped me countless times.

"Don't act like you don't like it! If not, why do you keep coming back?"

"Leave her be. The way she struggles only heightens the experience. Girl, will you give me a special service if I ask nicely?"

"Come back, Christopher! Help!"

I cried for help, scrambling on my hands and knees toward the door.

Their hands pressed on me again as they dragged me back onto the workbench.

Hands were everywhere. I couldn't stop shaking as despair overwhelmed me. 'Where are you, Declan?'

Just when I gave up on a miracle and attempted to bite my tongue off, someone kicked open the heavy gate from outside, and it slammed into the wall.

The light filled the basement.

A tall figure stood in the doorway, backlit by that harsh white light. My eyes filled with tears instantly.

"Declan!" I reached out instinctively, then froze the moment I recognized who it actually was.