"I understand," I nodded slowly, my voice so calm it surprised even me.

Donald released his grip and patted my shoulder, satisfied. "That's the Kylie I know. Smart and sensible."

Cassidy let go of my hand, leaving five deep, bloody scratches on the back of it.

The two exchanged a victorious smile and left hand in hand.

The door clicked shut, and the world fell deathly silent.

I stared at the scratches on my hand and, with trembling fingers, pulled the encrypted phone from my pocket.

An unread message blinked on the screen.

It was a final warning from one of my father's loyal men, a message that had cost him his life.

That day, my father and brother were ambushed and killed during a deal.

And I was still here, planning a future for this man, helping him eliminate his rivals.

I was still fantasizing about wearing the "Ice Queen" and sharing the pinnacle of power with him.

Ridiculous.

Utterly, laughably ridiculous.

I pressed the phone tightly to my chest, letting silent tears stream down my face.

Papa, brother, I've failed you, I thought, the words a silent scream in my heart.

But rest assured.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, they were filled with an icy, deathly stillness.

Watching Donald walk away, smug and satisfied, a chilling smile crept across my lips.

"You'll soon find out how long that throne holds up without me, Donald Pierce."

The next morning, a sharp command cut through the dining room. "Serve the new Donna her coffee."

My assistant, Lena, wheeled me into the room.

Cassidy sat at the head of the table where my father once sat, my necklace around her neck, posturing like the Donna of the Callahan family.

"Kylie's here," she said with a saccharine smile, her eyes full of triumph. "Since we're all family now, we can skip the formalities."

No sooner had she spoken than her tone shifted. "But we must have rules. As Donald's former flame, the least you can do is serve me, the new Donna, a cup of coffee. Don't you agree?"

The old family loyalists around us whispered among themselves, their gazes shifting between the two of us.

Yesterday, I was the family's Principessa; today, I was a cripple expected to serve a mistress.

Lena handed me the coffee with a trembling hand.

I took the cup, feeling the scalding heat of the ceramic against my skin.

"Cassidy, can we speak privately? There's no need for this display," I said, my voice tight.

"In private?" Cassidy scoffed. "I am the Donna. What are you? Is there something that can't be said in front of everyone? Or do you feel that serving me coffee insults your status as the Callahan Principessa?"

Her every word was a deliberate needle.

I gripped the coffee cup, the scorching liquid nearly spilling over the rim.

"Kylie, coffee isn't good cold," Cassidy urged, a malicious glint in her eyes.

In that moment, I saw her true colors.

It wasn't coffee she wanted; it was my dignity.

"You want coffee?" I slowly raised the cup. "Here you go."

As I spoke, I feigned an unsteadiness in my leg, my body lurching to one side.

The entire cup of scalding coffee splashed all over her.

"Ah!" Cassidy shrieked, jumping to her feet, her expensive dress instantly stained brown. "Kylie Callahan! Are you insane!"

"The coffee has been served," I said, looking at her with an ice-cold smile. "I just couldn't hold it steady."

The dining room fell silent.

Everyone lowered their heads, not daring to watch the spectacle.

"You bitch! You did that on purpose!" Cassidy trembled with rage, pointing at me and cursing.

Heavy footsteps approached from outside the door.

Donald strode into the dining room, and his face darkened instantly upon seeing the mess.

"What happened?" His voice was ice.

"Donald, darling!" Cassidy immediately threw herself into his arms, sobbing. "I just asked Kylie to bring me a cup of coffee, and she deliberately threw it on me!"

Donald's gaze fell on me like a physical blow. "Kylie Callahan, you've gone too far!"

"Too far?" I looked up at him. "Who's gone too far?"

"Cassidy is the Donna. It's your duty to serve her!" Donald raged. "It's time you got rid of that damn Principessa attitude of yours!"

I stared at him, my heart feeling like it was being ripped to shreds.

Only yesterday, he was whispering how much he loved me. Today, he was screaming at me for her.

"Kneel!" Donald pointed at Cassidy. "Apologize to her!"

"I will not kneel," I said through gritted teeth.

A violent glint flashed in Donald's eyes. He strode forward and roughly yanked me from my wheelchair.

"Donald Pierce! You dare!" I struggled against his grip.

He shoved me to the ground. My injured leg slammed hard against the corner of a table, and a blinding pain shot through me.

"Apologize!" he roared in my ear.

The surrounding family members all watched the scene unfold, their faces a mixture of pity and fear.

I felt a humiliation I had never known before.

The proud Principessa of the Callahan family, humiliated and thrown to the floor in front of everyone.

"I'm… sorry," I squeezed the words through my teeth.

Only then did Cassidy nod in satisfaction. "It's good that Kylie knows her place."

Donald released me, looking down at me with condescension. "From now on, you're confined to your room. You are not to take a single step outside without my permission."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Cassidy and left.

Lena helped me back to my room, her body trembling.

On the way, I heard people whispering.

"The new Donna is really something else. What does being a Principessa matter now."

"Miss Kylie was always so regal, and now…"

"Shh, keep your voice down."

Back in my room, I dismissed everyone.

The door closed, and the world fell silent.

My hands shaking, I pulled the small chip from a hidden pocket in my dress.

It had been a year. I had never dared to look at its full contents.

Because I was afraid. Afraid the truth inside would shatter me completely.

But now, I had nothing left to lose.

The chip contained information one of my father's most loyal men had died to give me.

I carefully inserted it into the computer.

"Don Callahan and his son were killed in a shootout at the docks last July!"

The first line struck me like a bolt of lightning.

Last July?

That was a full year ago.

My hand was shaking so badly I could barely hold the mouse.

"Munitions withheld. Don Callahan and son ambushed, surrounded. Fought for three days. KIA. Bodies unrecovered."

"Donald Pierce betrayed us, withheld the munitions, and caused our downfall! We hope Miss Kylie will avenge the Don for this betrayal!"

The computer slipped from my grasp.

A year ago.

Papa and my brother died a year ago.

But for this entire year, I had been receiving forged emails every month.

Emails telling me they were safe.

Like a woman possessed, I opened my email archive and found all of them.

The familiar tone, the warm words.

"Kylie, Papa is doing well in South America, don't worry."

"Your man is a genius. I'm very pleased with him."

"We need funds to develop the South American market, need to grease some palms…"

All fake!

They were all fake!

I coughed, a spray of crimson splattering from my lips.

The blood dripped onto the keyboard, blooming like a morbid flower.

So, Donald had known about my father and brother's deaths all along.

He forged emails to make me believe they were still alive.

He used the excuse that my father needed funds to grease palms, tricking me into exhausting myself to consolidate his power.

All my efforts this past year were in service of my family's killer!

I was helping my enemy ascend to the throne!

"Hahaha…" I couldn't help but laugh, but tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

Donald Pierce, you magnificent, cruel bastard.

You walked over the bones of my father and brother, squeezed every last drop of value from me, and then planned to kick me aside like trash.

With trembling hands, I permanently deleted all the forged emails and emptied the recycle bin.

The bitter taste of lies mixed with the flavor of blood in my mouth.

I would swallow all this deception.

Along with my tears, my despair, and my foolishness.

Swallow it all.

After deleting the last email, I looked up.

The woman in the mirror had bloodshot eyes and a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth.

But there was no longer a trace of tenderness in her gaze.

Only unyielding, murderous intent.

I ripped the chip from its plastic casing, then forced the tiny, metallic-tasting memory core down my throat. I would carry this truth inside my very being.

"Papa, brother, I'm so sorry…" I prayed silently.

"I will make that bastard and his bitch pay with their blood!"