“You expect me to believe that?” he said quietly.

My chest tightened. “I’m just telling you what happened.”

He laughed once but there was no humor in it.

“Natalia?” he said. “The girl who cries if a stray cat gets hurt? The girl who begged me all day not to let you go to George Vale’s place because she was scared something would happen to you?” His voice hardened. “I heard she locked herself in her room and cried the entire time you were gone. She kept saying she wished she could take your place.” He looked straight at me then. “And now you’re telling me she threw boiling water at you?”

My throat felt dry. “I’m not lying.”

“When did you start lying to me, Amelia?” Westley’s eyes went darker.

“I didn’t,” I said quietly. “I never lied to you.”

He stared at me for another second like he was trying to see through my skull. Then suddenly he shoved me hard.

“Still arguing!” he snapped.

I stumbled back and almost fell.

“Guards!” he called sharply. Two men rushed into the backyard immediately. “Twenty lashes,” Westley said without even looking at me. “Right here.”

The guards hesitated for half a second. Nobody liked punishing me. They all knew I was the one who usually protected them.

But Westley’s orders were absolute.

They grabbed my arms and forced me onto the wooden bench in the backyard. I didn’t fight. What was the point?

The first lash came down across my back. Pain exploded through my body and tore open skin that hadn’t even healed yet.

Westley stood a few steps away watching.

Cold. Unmoved.

“This is a warning,” he said calmly. “Anyone who dares speak badly about Natalia will be punished the same way.”

The second strike came.

Then the third.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood and my vision started to blur but memories kept flashing through my head.

The first time I killed someone was when I was fifteen. I was shaking so badly I couldn’t even hold the knife steady.

Westley had pulled me into his arms that night.

“Hey,” he said softly back then. “Look at me. It’s alright.”

“I was scared,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said and gently touched my head. “But you’re not alone. I’m here.”

Now he was the one standing there while someone tore my back apart.

Fourth strike.

Fifth.

By the time they reached twenty my entire back felt like it was on fire. Blood soaked through my shirt and dripped onto the stone floor.

The guards stepped away slowly and everything went black.

Somewhere far away I heard voices.

The doctor's shaky voice spoke first. “Mr. Grimshaw… her pulse is extremely weak. I’m afraid she might not have much time left.”

Something shattered loudly.

Glass hitting the floor.

“What did you just say?” Westley’s voice sounded colder than ice.

The doctor sounded terrified now. “I’m sorry sir but her body is already failing. The injuries are severe and her heartbeat is fading.”

“Get out,” Westley snapped.

The footsteps rushed away quickly.

The room went quiet after everyone left. A few seconds later the curtain around the bed was suddenly pulled aside.

Westley stood there.

His face was shadowed but I could still see the cold look in his eyes. My hands, the same hands that had held guns and knives for him for eleven years, were lying useless on the blanket.

“You made a blood oath to me,” he said slowly. “Remember that night? You said if anyone ever hurt you, I’d make them regret being born.”

His voice dropped lower.

“So explain something to me, Amelia. When did you learn to work with doctors to fake a dying act like this?”

I didn’t answer.

I just closed my eyes.

For a moment the room stayed silent. Then I felt the air around him change.

“You’re not even going to explain?” he said sharply. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for this?”

Still nothing from me.

His footsteps moved closer to the bed.

“You’ve been acting strange for a while,” he continued coldly. “But this… pretending to die just to get attention? I didn’t think you’d sink that low.”

My chest rose slowly.

I still didn’t speak.

That seemed to make him even angrier.

“Fine,” he said suddenly.

His voice turned completely cold.

“Throw away all her medicine. Every bottle. Every bandage.”

Someone outside hesitated. “Mr. Grimshaw…”

“Did you not fucking hear me?!” he snapped. “Since she loves pretending so much, let her deal with it herself.”

A moment later I heard the cabinet being opened and everything being thrown into a trash bag.

Then the door slammed shut behind him.

The sound echoed through the quiet room.

I lay there on the bed staring at the ceiling. The wounds on my back burned like fire under my skin.

Pain had become normal a long time ago.

Just like the way he hurt me again and again.

As the night got deeper the pain got worse. My body started shaking and cold sweat soaked the sheets. I bit the corner of the blanket to stop myself from making any noise.

Somewhere in the middle of the night my mind drifted back to years ago.

The first time I got badly injured on a mission.

I had been stabbed and almost bled out.

Westley stayed beside my bed for three days back then. Three days without leaving. He even changed the bandages himself.

I still remembered the look in his eyes.

It looked like he was in pain.

Like it hurt him to see me hurt.

Stupid me.

I thought it meant something.

I thought maybe… maybe he cared.

...

Morning finally came and the pain eased a little. I had just closed my eyes when someone knocked on the door.

The butler’s voice came from outside.

“Miss Meadow, Mr. Grimshaw ordered you to come to the main hall immediately. You’re going with him to fulfill a promise.”

I slowly pushed myself up.

It felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into my back. My hands shook as I wrapped new bandages around the wounds and pulled on a plain black dress.

By the time I walked into the main hall, Westley was already there.

He was wearing a dark tailored coat and standing close to Natalia. He was tying a soft scarf around her neck carefully like she might break if the wind touched her.

Natalia wore a light pink dress and looked bright and delicate.

Next to her I probably looked like something dragged out of a war zone.

“You’re here,” Westley said without even lifting his head.

His voice sounded bored.

“You’re responsible for Natalia’s safety today. Stay close and do your job.”

Finally he glanced at me.

“And Amelia,” he added coldly, “if anything happens to her… you won’t like the consequences.”

I lowered my eyes.

“Yes, sir.”

The cars were already waiting outside.

Westley helped Natalia into the back seat of the black Rolls Royce. I got on a motorcycle with the other guards and followed behind.

The road out of the city was quiet.

Halfway there the sky suddenly opened up and heavy rain started pouring down. Within minutes my clothes were soaked. Water ran down my back and slipped into the bandages, making the wounds sting again.

I could feel warm blood slowly running down my spine.

Natalia lifted the car window halfway and peeked outside.

She looked at me riding in the rain for a moment.

“Westley,” she said softly, “Amelia looks terrible. She’s injured and the rain is pouring like this. Should we let her sit inside the car for a while? Or at least give her an umbrella?”

For half a second I almost laughed.

Westley didn’t even turn his head.

“She’s a bodyguard,” he said calmly. “She’ll be fine.”

That was it. Natalia’s lips curved slightly before she hid the smile.

I tightened my grip on the handle and kept riding.

Right.

Just a bodyguard. Just a weapon he could throw away whenever he wanted. Even if I died tomorrow, he probably wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

The convoy finally stopped near an old mountain church outside the city. It was a famous place where people went to pray and make promises.

But what happened next shocked everyone.

Westley suddenly stepped out of the car and removed his coat.

Then he dropped to his knees at the bottom of the long stone staircase leading up to the church.

The guards immediately rushed forward.

“Mr. Grimshaw, what are you doing?”

Westley’s voice was calm.

“When Natalia was dying, I promised I’d crawl these steps if she survived,” Westley said calmly. “I don’t believe in God. But I keep my promises.”

Natalia’s eyes filled with tears instantly. “Westley, you don’t have to do that,” she said softly. “It was just something you said when you were worried. Nobody expects you to actually…”

But he had already bowed forward. His forehead hit the stone step with a heavy sound.

Then he moved up one step.

And did it again.

Step by step he kept bowing down. The hard stone quickly split the skin on his forehead and blood began running down his face. People around the church started whispering.

“Look at that man…”

“He must really love his wife…”

“What a devoted husband.”

Wife.

The word stabbed straight through my chest.

By the time we reached the church on the mountain, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

Westley’s knees were already soaked with blood from the stone steps he had crawled up earlier, but he still insisted on walking Natalia inside first. He held her hand like she was something fragile, guiding her carefully through the old wooden doors.

The inside smelled like candles and incense. Natalia liked places like this. Quiet places where people prayed and whispered to God.

Westley didn’t believe in any of it.

Everyone knew that.

But because she did, he respected it.

So he stood beside her while she knelt in front of the altar.

Natalia closed her eyes and folded her hands. “Please… let everyone I love stay safe,” she murmured softly.

Westley didn’t kneel completely. He just stood there beside her and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder.

“If praying makes you feel better,” he said quietly, “then do it.”

I stayed outside near the entrance, rain dripping from my hair and down my back. The bandages under my clothes were already soaked again.

After Natalia finished praying, the pastor of the church came forward. He was an older man who looked both nervous and honored.

“Mr. Grimshaw,” he said respectfully, “you’ve donated to this church for years. We’ve always been grateful for your support. I wanted to give you something small in return.”

He pointed to a wooden table beside the wall where several rare potted plants were displayed.

“This is a rare mountain orchid. It’s known for bringing peace to the household.”

Natalia leaned closer to look.

But then her eyes landed on a different plant beside it.

“What about this one?” she asked curiously.

The pastor hesitated. “That one… was actually promised to another guest today.”

Westley glanced over.

A young rich man standing nearby stepped forward politely. He looked like one of those spoiled heirs from a political family.

“That plant is mine,” the man said casually.

Westley studied the plant for a moment.

Then he looked at the man.

“How about we trade,” he said calmly.

The man blinked. “Trade?”

“I’ll give you my nightclub on 8th Street,” Westley continued. “The one downtown.”

The guy’s eyes widened immediately.

“Mr. Grimshaw… that club is worth millions.”

Westley shrugged like it meant nothing.

“If Natalia likes the plant,” he said simply, “then it’s worth it.”

My chest tightened when I heard that.

So he did understand love.

He just never loved me.

The young heir laughed awkwardly. “Well… if you insist, I’d be stupid to refuse.”

The pastor quickly handed the plant over to Natalia.

She smiled brightly and reached out to pick it up.

Then suddenly she gasped.

“Ah!”

She jerked back her hand. Tiny puncture marks appeared on her wrist.

Everyone froze.

A rare red venomous scorpion had crawled under the pot and stung her. Westley’s expression changed immediately.

“Natalia!”

He grabbed her wrist and bent down, pressing his mouth to the wound to suck out the venom.

“Nobody fucking moves!” he barked between breaths.

Natalia’s lips quivered. “Westley… I feel dizzy.”

I gritted my teeth. I remembered when I was poisoned years ago. He had only glanced at me and said, “Bear with it,” then walked away.

The doctor arrived quickly, checking her pulse. “The venom’s spreading fast,” he said. “There’s a rare herb growing on the cliffs nearby that can neutralize it, but it’s dangerous.”

Westley stood immediately. “I’ll get it.”

Natalia grabbed his sleeve. “No… please don’t. It’s dangerous. What if something happens to you? I’ll be even more scared.”

His eyes swept the room and finally landed on me.

“Amelia,” he said.

I stepped forward.

“Go get it.”

“Yes, sir.”

…

The mountain behind the church was steep and covered in wet rocks. Night rain had turned everything slippery and dangerous.

I climbed using my bare hands.

Every movement felt like knives tearing into my back. My fingernails cracked against the rocks and blood mixed with rainwater as it ran down the stone.

The wind was cold and sharp and my thin clothes stuck to my body.

At one point a loose rock shifted under my foot.

My body slipped instantly.

For a moment I thought I was going to fall straight down the cliff.

My hand grabbed a sharp branch sticking out of the rock wall just in time.

The branch stabbed straight through my palm.

Pain shot up my arm but I forced myself not to scream.

Just keep climbing.

Just finish the job.

Why was I still doing this for him?

Why?

The question passed through my mind for a moment. I didn’t have an answer.

By the time the sky began turning gray with morning light, I finally saw the herb growing inside a crack in the cliff.

I carefully pulled it out and held it tightly in my bloody hand. On the way back down I blacked out twice.

The blood loss was getting worse and my vision kept going dark. But somehow my body still kept moving. By the time I stumbled back into the church backyard, the sun was already rising.

My legs almost gave out.

But the herb was still clutched in my hand.

…

I handed Westley the rare herb, shaking, hands slick with blood. He didn’t even look at me, just snatched it and shoved it toward the doctor. “Make the medicine. Now.”

I stumbled back against the door frame, chest heaving, legs like jelly. My whole body still ached from the fight, from the rain, from everything.

The doctor started boiling the herb into some bitter-smelling drink, but Natalia just sat there, staring at it. Westley crouched next to her. “Come on, Natalia, just drink it. I know it’s awful, but you need it. Don’t fight it. You want to get out of here alive, right?”

She shook her head, tears streaming. “I can’t… it’s disgusting…”

He stared at her for a beat and then tipped the cup into his mouth himself. Before I could even think, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, feeding her the medicine mouthful by mouthful. “See? It’s fine, just a little, that’s it, just keep going…”

I froze, my chest tightening. I wanted to look away, run away, disappear, but I couldn’t. Part of me broke right there. My back burned like hell, but it didn’t matter. This—this was worse.

Once she drank it, he called the guards. “Move. Now. Everyone stay sharp.”

Then the first shots rang out. “Ambush!”

Westley dropped, yanking Natalia into his arms, shouting without even looking at me. “Amelia! Cover us!”

I drew my gun and ran forward, but I was weak, my body still recovering. I fired, dodged, tried to stay alive, but then—pain. A knife buried itself in my side and I collapsed, blood gushing. I barely had the strength to call his name. “W-westley…”

Through blurry vision, I saw him sprinting, carrying Natalia away without even looking back.

When I came to, the smell of medicine made me cough. The doctor’s voice shook. “Amelia… your pulse is weak… even with all the medicine, I’m not sure—”

Then Westley slammed his fist onto the table so hard the glass rattled. “What did you do to her? How much did she pay you to fake this?”

I barely opened my eyes and saw him standing over the doctor, face dark, eyes sharp. “Do everything you can. Keep her alive. If she dies, every one of you is going to answer to me.”

For days I floated in that haze of medicine and pain. My body ached, my back throbbed, I could barely tell night from day. I could hear whispers of the doctor, feel my wounds burning, feel my heart breaking all over again.

Finally, one morning, I opened my eyes and saw the green canopy over the bed. Footsteps came fast. Westley stepped in, dark suit, face unreadable, the pendant at his belt swinging slightly.

“You’re awake,” he said, crouching slightly. “Can you move? Are you in pain? Tell me everything, Amelia. Don’t hold back.”

I tried to sit up when Westley walked in. Reflex. But the second I moved, a sharp pain stabbed through my chest and I fell back against the pillow.

“Don’t move,” he said flatly. “Just lie down.”

I still forced myself halfway up, breathing through the pain. “You’re leaving somewhere?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied, already turning away. “There’s a gang on the Jersey side causing problems. I’m dealing with it.”

“I’ll come with you.” My voice came out hoarse. “I can still fight.”

“No.” The answer came instantly. “You stay here and watch Natalia.”

My fingers tightened on the blanket. “Understood.”

He walked toward the door but paused. His back stayed to me. “Remember something, Amelia. If anything happens to her while I’m gone…” The sentence hung there, heavy with threat.

“I’ll protect her with my life,” I said quietly.

The door shut. I stared at it for a long time. Funny. The wound in my chest hurt less than whatever that feeling was in my ribs.

During recovery I followed his order and stayed around Natalia. She made sure every minute felt miserable.

“Amelia, kneel.” She said it casually one afternoon in the backyard.

I looked at her. “What?”

“You heard me.” She smiled sweetly. “The sun feels nice today. Kneel here for a bit.”

So I knelt. The stone burned under my knees and sweat soaked the bandages on my back.

Two hours later she clapped her hands lightly. “Alright. Now go wipe the floor.”

“It’s already clean.”

“I know.” She tilted her head, amused. “But I want it cleaner.”

So I wiped it again. And again.

Later she handed me tea and then suddenly tipped the cup forward. Hot liquid splashed across my hands.

I didn’t even flinch.

“Oh no,” she said softly. “Did that burn you?”

I kept cleaning.

That night she leaned back on the couch watching me quietly. “You know something, Amelia?”

“What.”

“Westley told me something before he left.” She smiled like she was sharing a secret. “When he comes back this time, he’s going to marry me.”

My hand trembled slightly. Tea spilled across my fingers again but I barely felt it.

“Congratulations,” I said.

That evening I went to the kitchen to get her dinner. The second I stepped into the hallway, shouting erupted from the front yard.

“What’s going on?” I grabbed a servant rushing past.

“Mr. Grimshaw is back!” the man said breathlessly. “He rushed back for Miss Natalia’s birthday but his convoy got attacked on the highway. He was shot.”

The tray slipped from my hands. Plates shattered everywhere.

I didn’t care. I ran.

The backyard was chaos. Guards shouting, doctors pushing through with medical bags. I forced my way through the crowd.

Westley lay on a stretcher. Blood soaked his shirt near the chest.

Natalia clung to him crying. “Westley, please wake up. Don’t scare me like this.”

The mansion stayed lit the entire night. I stood outside the medical room listening to doctors rushing in and out.

Finally one came out wiping sweat from his forehead. “The bullet is out but it was poisoned.”

Natalia grabbed his sleeve. “Then fix it!”

“There is a way,” he said carefully. “But it requires a large blood transfusion. Someone with the same rare blood type. A lot of blood.”

“How much?”

“Enough that the donor might die.”

Natalia’s face turned pale instantly. “I… have that blood type. But I’ve always been weak since I was young. If you take that much blood…”

Her eyes slowly slid toward me.

“Sister,” she said sweetly.

I didn’t move.

“You have the same blood type, don’t you?” she continued gently. “Westley has taken care of you for years. Isn’t it time you repay him?”

My back still throbbed from old wounds and the fake death drug made my chest feel tight.

I stayed silent.

Her expression cooled. “What? You think you can refuse me?”

She looked at the guards. “Hold her.”

Two men grabbed my shoulders and forced me onto a medical table.

“Sorry about this,” the doctor muttered.

A needle slid into my vein and a blood bag slowly began filling.

Warmth drained from my body.

First bag.

Second bag.

My head started spinning.

Third bag.

The room blurred and the sound of blood dripping into plastic bags echoed in my ears.

The doctor frowned. “That should be enough.”

Natalia’s voice cut in. “One more.”

The fourth bag filled slowly. My vision darkened at the edges.

Then everything went black.

When I woke again I was back in my own backyard. Someone had dumped me on the bed like a sack of trash.

The wound near my chest hadn’t even been treated. Blood had dried into the fabric of my clothes, sticking painfully to my skin.

I slowly pulled the cloth away. One tear. Pain shot straight through my chest. Another tear. My hands started shaking. Cold sweat soaked the mattress but I didn’t even have the strength to make a sound.

After cleaning the wound as best as I could, I collapsed back against the pillow.

My body felt empty.

My heart felt worse.

Eventually… I fell asleep.

…

In my dream I was twelve again.

Snow everywhere. Cold that bit straight into the bones. My little sister’s hand clutched tight in mine as we walked through empty streets looking for food. The famine had turned the whole town quiet. People stopped talking when they were hungry that long.

“Don’t let go,” she whispered.

“I won’t,” I told her.

But the snow kept getting deeper. My fingers felt numb. What if I couldn’t hold on forever? What if I lost her too?

Bang.

The door slammed open so hard it hit the wall.

I woke up with a jolt. Westley stormed into the room looking like a storm ready to explode. His eyes were dark and furious.

“Amelia Meadow!”

Before I could even sit up, he grabbed my arm and yanked me off the bed. Pain ripped through my chest and my legs almost gave out.