"Mom, don't scare her." Finn put on a fake show of stopping Connie, then turned back to me, softening his tone. "Rosaline, I really have no other choice. That money… They'll make sure I'll never get back on my feet."

The drug was slowly wearing off. Feeling returned to my limbs; my tongue finally started to move. I drew in a deep breath and forced out a hoarse but clear sentence. "Get the hell away from me!"

"What did you just say?" Finn's expression instantly darkened.

He abruptly grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head up. "I'm warning you, Rosaline—think carefully before you open your mouth."

My scalp burned with pain, but I stood my ground. "I said, I'm not agreeing to this. What you're doing is a serious crime, and I'll call the cops on you."

His palm cracked across my face. My vision went white. A roar filled my ears, and the metallic taste of blood spread across my tongue.

"Give you an inch and you really think you're something, huh?" He gritted his teeth and glared at me viciously. "Who do you think you are? You're just a dancer! The fact that you can pay off my debt for me is the only reason you're useful!"

Connie stepped forward and kicked me. "Quit acting so high and mighty. Finn taking a liking to you is the best thing that'll ever happen to you!"

"Don't touch her face," Peter reminded. "If that gets ruined, she won't be worth anything."

Only then did Finn let go.

I slumped against the icy floor, my breathing ragged. My fingertips trembled.

"Rosaline, I'll ask you one last time." Finn crouched and grabbed my chin. "Are you going to behave or not?"

I stared straight at him and said firmly, "Absolutely not."

"Fine, then." He let out a cold snort and stood up. "You're a dancer, right? Haven't you always said that you wanted to fulfill your mother's dream?"

He lifted his foot and stomped down on my calf, hard.

A searing pain shot through my leg, ripping a scream from my throat.

"How exactly will you dance if your leg is useless?" He ground his heel into my leg, his tone icy. "Your mother died still hoping you'd make it onto a global stage. What a shame."

Tears blurred my vision. Mom had once been an internationally renowned dancer, but she'd died young. All these years of training and every bit of pain I'd endured had been for one thing—to finish the dance career she never got to complete.

"Don't…" My voice began to shake. "Don't touch my legs…"

"Oh, now you're scared?" Connie let out a mocking laugh. "Where'd all that tough talk from just now go?"

Finn withdrew his foot and crouched down again. "Then be good. Don't cause trouble later. As long as this debt is settled, I'll still marry you. Everything will go back to the way it was."

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears slipped down uncontrollably.

"That's more like it." Connie nodded. "Take her to clean up. She can't meet anyone looking like this."

Finn roughly yanked me off the floor and dragged me toward the bathroom off the sitting room.

"I can do it myself…" I was too weak to fight back.

"Shut up." He shoved me inside. "Your makeup's a mess. You look like a crazy woman."

He fisted a hand in my hair and shoved my face down into the sink. Ice-cold water crashed over my skin. My whole body started to shake, and my makeup washed away in ugly streaks.

Finn grabbed a bottle of cleanser and smeared it straight onto my face.

"Stop—" I choked and coughed as the soap burned my nose and mouth.

"Wash it off." His voice was flat and cold. "Your face is what Mr. Olson wants to see. You really look just like her. That's why I went after you in the first place—you look like the woman he can't let go of."

My heart hit rock bottom. So that was it. Right from the start, these three years had all been one big setup.

Finn rinsed the foam off my face and wiped me down roughly with a towel. Then, his hands went to my clothes, yanking at the fabric.

"What are you doing?" Panic surged through me. I instinctively tried to cover myself.

"This outfit's way too stiff." He pulled a low-cut black dress out of a bag. "You're changing into this."

"I'm not wearing that!"

"Are you sure?" His eyes went cold. "Then I'll do it for you."

He tore open the buttons of my coat in one rough motion. I screamed and fought back, earning myself another slap. He snarled, "Hold still!"

Just then, someone pounded on the bathroom door. Connie called out impatiently, "Finn, hurry up. Mr. Olson's people are here!"

Finn faltered, then shot me a venomous glare. "You got lucky."

He dragged me out of the bathroom and shoved me hard, sending me sprawling back onto the carpet in the sitting room.

The door swung open, and several men in black suits walked in. The one in the lead looked to be in his early 30s. He had a scar running across his face and a cold, sinister gaze.

"Mr. Olson will be here soon." The scarred man glanced at me. "She's been taken care of?"

"Yes, of course." Peter smiled sycophantically. "Take a look at her. She looks just like that person, doesn't she?"

The scarred man came closer, crouched down, and studied my face carefully.

My heart plummeted. It was Donald Dimm. My uncle, Wesley Olson, had mentioned him before. He said he was ruthless but not yet a core member of the clan.

Unfortunately, that meant… he didn't know who I was.

Donald stared at me for a long time. His gaze shifted from appraising to strange. "She does. She's almost identical, damn it."

He reached out, brushing the rough pad of his thumb across my cheek. "She's exactly like in the photos."

I went rigid, but I forced myself to speak. "You're Donald Dimm, right? I'm—"

Donald slapped me harder than Finn had done earlier, making my head snap to the side. Blood instantly welled at the corner of my mouth.

"Who said you could call me by my name?" He grabbed a fistful of my hair. "You're just someone handed over to pay a debt. You think you're worthy of acting all chummy with me?"

"No, I—"

"Shut up!" His hand clamped around my throat. "Say one more word, and I'll make sure you never speak again."

My oxygen was cut off. I clawed at his hand, but it was useless. Finn and his family stood off to the side, frightened into silence.

"So, about this…" Peter finally spoke, testing the waters. "Over on Mr. Olson's side…"

"Mr. Olson is upstairs." Donald released me and stood. "I came down first to check the goods."

He lit a cigarette, crouched again, and flicked ash onto my face. "Looking like her is where your value lies. It's not something you get to be proud of."

He gripped my jaw. "Don't think you can use that face to climb your way out."

I coughed violently, tears streaming down my face. "I'm… I'm Mr. Olson's niece…"

"Stop this bullshit!" Donald exploded, kicking me hard in the stomach.

Agony shot through me as I folded in on myself.

"As if I wouldn't know whether Mr. Olson has siblings." He sneered. "You really will say anything when your life's on the line."

He waved a hand. "Vodka."

One of his men immediately handed over a bottle of strong vodka. Donald twisted the cap off, grabbed my chin again, and forced the bottle to my mouth.

The alcohol scorched as it made its way down my throat. I choked and gagged, my face burning red as the vodka spilled down my chin and soaked into my clothes.

"Drink every single drop." Donald's voice was ice-cold. "If you dare throw up when Mr. Olson gets here, I'll send you straight to hell."

He didn't stop until more than half the bottle was gone. I collapsed forward and dry-heaved, feeling like my throat had been seared raw. I could barely make a sound.

Finn shifted uneasily. "If she can't talk later…"

"That's even better." Donald shot him a chilly look. "Saves us the trouble of her trying to cling to anyone."

He crouched again and grabbed my right hand. "Nice fingers."

I stared at him in terror.

"What a shame." He tightened his grip without warning.

There was a crack, and then my scream echoed through the sitting room. My index finger bent at a grotesque angle. The pain was so intense that my vision went dark at the edges.

"That's just one." Donald sounded almost casual. "If you don't behave, I'll ruin all ten."

I trembled all over, cold sweat pouring down my back as I seized up and twitched on the floor.

"Mr. Olson is here!" Someone announced from the doorway.

Donald immediately stood, straightened his suit jacket, and schooled his features into respectful deference. Finn and his parents rushed to stand properly as well, lowering their heads, not daring to look up.

The door swung open. A tall figure in a black overcoat stepped in. He had sharp features and a chillingly dominant presence. It was my Uncle Wesley.

He took in the wrecked sitting room at a glance, his brows knitting sharply. "What the hell happened here?"

Donald stepped forward. "Mr. Olson, these people wanted to use a woman to pay off their debt—"

"I've said this before." Uncle Wesley's voice was cold and unyielding. "Don't bring just about anyone here. "Get rid of them."

He turned to leave as soon as he finished.

No!

I summoned everything I had left to push myself up, but my body gave out, and I crashed back to the floor. My throat refused to make a sound.

Uncle Wesley's footsteps didn't slow.

In utter desperation, I tore off the necklace Mom had left me. With my still-functioning left hand, I hurled it toward Uncle Wesley's feet as hard as I could.

Metal hit marble with a sharp, ringing clang. His steps halted. He lowered his head to the necklace on the floor, then lifted his eyes to my blood-streaked, tear-stained face.

His expression changed completely.