The room was cold. I couldn’t feel my hands anymore as I clutched the podium. My chest felt like it was going to burst. The guests stared at me, waiting for me to say something—anything. I could already hear Camille’s voice in my head, sweet and innocent, like she always played it.

“You owe me an apology, Miracle,” Camille had said earlier. Her eyes, full of fake hurt, shone under the bright lights. “You pushed me. I’ve been hurt so much by you, and all I wanted was to help.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them all the truth—that she had tripped, that it wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t. Chase was behind me, his face hard, staring at the guests. I didn’t dare look at him. He’d already made it clear what would happen if I didn’t do this.

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out at first. My throat tightened, my words stuck. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide from all of them. Camille was standing next to me, her hand on my arm, pretending to console me. It made me want to throw up.

“I… I’m sorry, everyone,” I finally forced myself to say. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” The words felt foreign, like I wasn’t even speaking them. I could feel the eyes on me, and every inch of my skin burned with humiliation.

Chase’s hand on my back was cold, and it made my body tense. I could feel the weight of his anger. Camille squeezed my arm tighter, her nails digging into my skin. I tried not to flinch. I didn’t want to give her that satisfaction.

The room was silent for a moment before a few people murmured, and I was dismissed. Camille took my arm and led me out, her head held high, looking proud of herself. I hated her. I hated how she always managed to twist everything to her advantage.

As soon as we left the room, Chase turned to me. His eyes were dark, and his voice low. “You’re lucky I’m still keeping you around,” he said. “Don’t forget that.”

I couldn’t even reply. My mouth was dry, and I just nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Camille’s smug smile was the last thing I saw before they walked away. It felt like my entire world was crashing down, and I didn’t even know how to stop it.

That night, the house felt emptier than usual. I was alone. The silence echoed in the hallways. My feet moved on their own, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of Chase’s study. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see the glow of the desk lamp through the crack.

I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t be sneaking around, but my heart pounded, and I couldn’t help myself. I pushed the door open just a little wider and stepped inside.

The room smelled like leather and whiskey. The faint scent of cologne lingered in the air, reminding me of him. I didn’t want to think about him, but it was hard not to. Everything about this house was about him—his rules, his control. I hated it. I hated him.

I glanced at the desk. Papers were scattered across the surface, and there, at the edge, a folder caught my eye. It was thick, marked with something I couldn’t quite read from where I stood. I walked closer, my hands shaking. The first paper I pulled out made my stomach drop.

Financial transactions. Large sums of money, moving into offshore accounts. Camille’s name was listed. I froze. My heart pounded in my chest. What was this? What was she doing?

I flipped through the papers quickly, trying to understand, but the more I saw, the worse it got. These weren’t just business deals. There were connections—names I didn’t recognize. Leon Romano. The rival Mafia boss. Camille’s name was tied to his in more ways than I cared to count.

I stumbled back, almost knocking over a glass. My breath came in ragged gasps. My mind was racing. Camille wasn’t just playing Chase. She was playing him and everyone else.

I had to get out of here. My mind screamed for me to leave, but I couldn’t. I needed to know more. I had to find out everything.

The door creaked open behind me. I froze. My heart dropped into my stomach as I turned around. Michael stood there, his eyes dark and intense. He was always calm, but there was something different in his gaze tonight.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. My hand was still clutching the papers. I couldn’t let them go. “I found something,” I whispered.

He stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned the desk, and I saw his jaw tighten. “Chase is preparing to throw you away,” he said, his voice cold. “You’re a pawn to him, Miracle. Always have been.”

I shook my head, my heart sinking. “No, he… he won’t. He needs me.”

Michael stepped closer, his gaze hardening. “He won’t need you for long. Not when he’s done with you.” He paused, his voice lowering. “Get out while you still can. You don’t have much time.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to scream, to beg him to tell me what to do. But nothing came out. I just stood there, unable to move, the weight of his words settling on me like a stone.

He gave me a final, almost pitying glance before turning and walking out of the room, leaving me alone once again. The papers on the desk felt heavier now, like they were weighing me down. Camille, Chase, Leon Romano—it was all connected.

I couldn’t stay here anymore. But where could I go? What could I do?

I wasn’t sure, but I knew one thing for certain.

I was done being their pawn.

The silence in the room swallowed me whole as I stood there, staring at the papers. I had to figure this out. For

The morning was heavy, suffocating even. I couldn’t breathe right as I walked through the mansion, my heart pounding. I had to talk to Chase. I had to ask him about Camille. But I knew it wouldn’t go well. Still, I had to try.

When I found him, he was in his office, talking to some of his men. They looked at me when I stepped inside, but no one said anything. Not even him.

I took a deep breath. “Chase,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to you.”

He didn’t even look at me. “Not now, Miracle.” His voice was flat, dismissive. I could feel my chest tighten, but I kept my ground.

“Chase,” I repeated, trying to get his attention. “About Camille—”

He raised a hand, cutting me off. “I said, not now.” His eyes stayed on the papers in front of him. I stood there, frozen, my mouth dry.

That was it. He wasn’t even going to listen. I could feel the tears building up, but I wouldn’t let them fall. I wouldn’t let him see me break.

I turned and walked out without saying another word.

The day dragged on, dragging me down with it. Camille seemed to be everywhere I turned. She was in the kitchen, smiling as she ate breakfast. She was by the pool, laughing with some of the staff. She was even standing outside the study, looking at me with that smug, too-perfect smile.

She was taking my place. Everywhere I looked, she was there, like she owned everything.

At dinner, it was worse. I was already sitting at the table, trying to keep my mind busy, but when Camille walked in, my stomach twisted. She was wearing a red dress, the kind of dress that turned heads, and she didn’t even glance my way as she sat down next to Chase.

I couldn’t help it. My eyes drifted to her, and I saw her give me a small, mocking smile. She knew what she was doing.

The dinner went on in a blur. My mind was so distracted by Camille and her every move that I almost didn’t notice what happened next.

Camille “accidentally” knocked over her wine glass. The red liquid splashed across the table, and I could feel the coldness of it hitting me before I even realized what was happening. It soaked my dress, turning it dark with wine.

I sat there, stunned. Everyone at the table went quiet for a moment before laughter erupted. Camille’s eyes twinkled with malicious delight as she “apologized,” but it was clear she didn’t care. She was loving every second of it.

I had to sit there, soaked and embarrassed, while everyone laughed and whispered. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say anything. My face burned with humiliation.

Chase didn’t even look at me. He just kept talking to Camille, like nothing had happened. Like I wasn’t sitting there, drenched in wine and ignored.

Camille leaned closer to him, her voice soft but loud enough for me to hear. “You should start packing,” she whispered. I could see the smug smile on her face as she stared at me, making sure I understood.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand up and tell them all the truth, to make them understand how much they were hurting me. But I couldn’t. I just sat there, feeling smaller and smaller.

When dinner finally ended, I excused myself and went to my room. But I didn’t feel like I had a room anymore. It was just a space. Just a place I was supposed to stay in while they did whatever they wanted with me.

That night, I locked myself in the bathroom. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to face the truth, but I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my soaked dress still clinging to my skin. My makeup was ruined, and my hair was a mess.

I was nothing to them.

I had no place here anymore. I wasn’t needed. I wasn’t wanted.

I sank to the floor, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. I felt the tears finally spill over. I didn’t even try to stop them.

I had nothing left.

But then something shifted in me. I couldn’t stay like this. I couldn’t just sit here and let them tear me apart. I had to do something.

I couldn’t rely on Chase. I couldn’t rely on anyone here. I had to get out.

I wiped my eyes, taking a deep breath. I stood up, straightened my dress, and made my way back down the hall.

I couldn’t face them tonight, but there was one thing I had to do.

Chase’s study.

I needed to get the files. The ones I’d found the night before. The ones that could be my way out.

I moved quickly, as quietly as I could, making my way back to the study. The door was still ajar. I slipped inside, the darkness welcoming me. The desk was just how I had left it. The papers, the folders, everything was still there.

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the folders, all of them, and shoved them into my bag. I needed every piece of information. I didn’t know what would happen, but I knew I couldn’t leave without it.

I looked around the room one last time before slipping out. The house felt so empty now, like a prison I couldn’t escape. But with these files, I had a chance. I could make a plan. I could figure out how to get out of here, how to leave them all behind.

I didn’t care about Camille or Chase anymore. They didn’t control me. Not anymore.

I didn’t know what I was going to do yet, but I had the power to change it. I could make my own way.

The mansion felt colder than ever as I walked back to my room, the weight of the files heavy in my bag. But for the first time in a long while, I felt like I had control.

It was time to make my escape.

The house felt like a cage now. Every step I took, every corner I turned, was a reminder that I didn’t belong here anymore. The weight of the files in my bag, the evidence that could ruin everything, felt heavier each day. But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t let them keep breaking me down.

I had to leave. I had to get out.

I contacted Michael in secret. I knew he’d be the only one who could help me now. He’d always known more than he let on, and I trusted him more than anyone else here. The message was simple: I need to leave. Help me.

He didn’t reply immediately, but when he did, it was clear he was ready. He told me to get everything packed, to hide money, to prepare documents. I didn’t know how long it would take him to make his move, but I had to trust him. I couldn’t rely on anyone else. Not anymore.

I started hiding small amounts of cash, tucked away in drawers, in the lining of my clothes. I packed essentials in a small bag—just enough to get by in case I had to leave quickly. Every day, I prepared a little more. My heart raced with each item I added. What if they found out? What if Chase found out?

But I couldn’t let fear stop me. I had to keep going.

It was the night of the charity gala when Camille decided to humiliate me again. I could see it coming from a mile away, the way she smiled at me from across the room, her eyes glinting with malice. She was always plotting, always watching for the right moment to strike.

I tried to keep my composure, pretending I didn’t see her, but it didn’t matter. It was already happening.

As the night went on, Camille somehow managed to spill her drink all over me. It wasn’t an accident. I could see the smirk on her face as she “apologized,” her voice dripping with false sweetness.

“I’m so sorry, Miracle,” she said, her voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” But the way she said it made it clear she was enjoying every second.

Before I could react, she pulled at my dress, tearing the fabric right down the middle. I gasped, feeling the cold air hit my skin as the crowd around me gasped too.

“Oops,” Camille said, pretending to be shocked. “I guess it’s ruined now.”

I stood there, half-exposed, my face burning with humiliation. I wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor. The laughter started immediately, whispers spreading through the crowd.

Chase didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at me. He just stood next to Camille, as if everything was fine. Like I wasn’t standing there, exposed and humiliated.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear everything apart, but I couldn’t. Not now. I had to wait. I had to stay calm.

The night dragged on, but I felt like I wasn’t even there. My head spun, my mind racing with thoughts of what I needed to do. I couldn’t take much more of this. I had to get out. I had to escape.

That night, after the gala, I waited until the house was quiet. I could hear the soft murmur of voices down the hall, but I didn’t care. I slipped out of my room and into the darkened hallway.

I went to Chase’s door, crouching down to listen. His voice floated through the crack, low and cold.

“She’s served her purpose,” he said, the words like a slap to my chest. “I’ll handle the divorce soon.”

My breath caught in my throat. Divorce. It was coming. I could feel it. He was done with me. I was just a piece to be discarded.

I stayed there, listening as he made plans, as he spoke like I didn’t exist. But I wasn’t going to be part of his plan anymore. Not after everything.

I had everything I needed. I had the files, I had the money, and I had Michael’s signal. The time had come.

I took one last look around the mansion, the place that had been my prison for so long. I didn’t look back as I made my way down the hall and out the back door.

Outside, the cool night air hit me, and I breathed it in. Freedom. It was just a step away.

The black car was waiting, just like Michael had promised. I climbed inside without hesitation. The door clicked shut behind me, and I was alone in the backseat, the darkness surrounding me.

The driver didn’t look at me as he started the car. He just drove, silent, his eyes focused on the road. But I didn’t care. I didn’t need to know where we were going. I just needed to leave.

As we drove away from the mansion, I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself dwell on what I was leaving behind. I was finally free.

The driver turned his head slightly, just enough for me to see his face. It was Leon Romano. The last person I expected, but the person I needed.

“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice calm and steady.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. My chest was tight, my heart racing, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a chance. I had a chance to live for myself. To be free from the cage they had kept me in.

I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t matter. I was finally leaving the life they had forced on me behind.

I didn’t look back. Not even once.