The wedding had barely started when the lights went out.

Then came the moans—from the giant screen behind the altar.

Hailey froze. Her skin went ghost-pale. Her whole body shook.

A beat later, the doors slammed open.

Leading the charge? Nolan. Cold eyes, sharp suit, and bodyguards in tow. He stormed the stage.

The groom tried to stop him. Big mistake. Nolan's guys dropped him in seconds.

Nolan grabbed a fistful of the groom's hair and yanked his head back. "Heh. I've slept with Hailey hundreds—maybe thousands—of times. Used condoms alone could fill your house. Wanna see the HD vids?"

Hailey's eyes locked on Nolan, pure hate.

She'd been his kept woman for eight years.

He loathed her family. He loathed her. Swore she'd never know peace.

Then she disappeared—and he lost his mind.

The wedding had barely started when the lights went out.

Then came the moans—from the giant screen behind the altar.

Hailey Hart froze. Her skin went ghost-pale. Her whole body shook.

A beat later, the doors slammed open.

Leading the charge? Nolan Thorne. Cold eyes, sharp suit, and bodyguards in tow. He stormed the stage like he owned it.

Ethan Gardner, the groom, tried to stop him. Big mistake. Nolan's guys dropped him in seconds.

Nolan grabbed a fistful of Ethan's hair and yanked his head back. "Heh. I've slept with Hailey hundreds—maybe thousands—of times. Used condoms alone could fill your house. Wanna see the HD vids?"

Ethan's face twisted. He looked at Hailey. She couldn't move.

The crowd gasped.

"Seriously? He picked HER?"

"That skank tried to marry my son? She's disgusting!

"Hailey, you're a shameless tramp! No wonder you were so desperate—you've been passed around!"

"Gross. Just straight-up nasty. Did you hear those noises? Total trash. No class. Who even raised her?"

The insults flew. Hailey backed up—until Nolan grabbed her waist and pulled her in.

She slashed at him, nails catching his lip. Blood smeared his smirk.

"Nolan, you sick freak!"

His eyes darkened. He grabbed her jaw, yanked her close, and bit her lip—hard.

The crowd lost it.

To them, it just proved everything they'd said.

Then Nolan scooped her up like she weighed nothing. Her wedding gown flowed behind her—like some fairytale.

If only it wasn't him.

***

In the car.

"Mr. Thorne, where to?"

"Back to Northwick." Nolan's voice was ice.

His gaze dropped to Hailey's wedding dress—white, perfect. His thumb swiped her red lips, then smeared the color across her cheek like war paint.

He grabbed her neck and yanked her in.

"Nolan, let me go!"

She thrashed, but he didn't move. His grip only tightened as the privacy divider slid up.

She was trapped. No out. Just the heat of his rage.

But she didn't fold.

Hailey stared him down, eyes locked on his.

Then he struck—hand clamped around her jaw. Pain shot through her skull. Her vision blurred.

He leaned in, sneering. "This hurts? You really thought biting your tongue would be some noble exit?"

Everything went black before she could answer.

***

In her dream, Hailey was back in the good old days.

Her parents—Donovan and Amelia—were alive, doting. And Nolan? Always nearby with that soft smile and sweet lies.

Back then, she was still the Hart heiress. Untouchable.

Nolan was the kid of Donovan's old best friend, Frederick. After Frederick died, Donovan took him in, treated him like his own. Nolan played perfect—polite, sharp, golden boy.

With no sons of his own, Donovan planned to give him everything. Hart Corp. Hailey. The future.

Then it all flipped.

Nolan came out of the study, stone-faced. He brushed past her, knocking away her hand.

A scream followed.

Donovan was dead. Scissors in the chest. Suicide.

Next day, the cops came with baggage.

Turns out, the dad she adored had messed up big. Bad enough to ruin Nolan's father and shatter his mom completely.

So Nolan made a vow: take down the Hart family. Every last piece.

Starting with Donovan's pride and joy—Hailey.

Eight years. She was his mistress. Humiliated. Used.

***

Hailey shot awake.

The room hit like a slap—perfect, familiar.

And just like that, the despair came flooding in.

She was back.

Same room, same vibe. Like the whole year she'd been gone didn't even scratch the surface.

Not a speck of dust out of place.

A sound echoed outside her door. Barefoot, she slipped off the bed.

Her room—always the guest room—sat at the end of the hall. Separate. Distant.

But the noise? It was coming from Nolan's room.

The door was cracked open. She wasn't even close when the sounds hit—low groans, breathy moans.

A guy's growl. A girl coming undone.

Hailey froze. Eyes wide. Feet glued to the floor.

On Nolan's bed—there she was.

"Jordyn!"

Her sister.

No. No way. Not her.

Stunned, Hailey lunged and yanked Jordyn off the bed.

Jordyn—undressed—met her gaze with this eerie calm. Maybe even smug.

"You're hurting me," she said like Hailey was the problem, shoving her off.

Nolan sat up, robe loose, cigarette in hand like nothing happened.

Smoke drifted her way as he gave Hailey that same twisted smirk.

Her fists clenched. Nails digging in. Tears spilled before she could stop them.

"Nolan, it's bad enough you won't leave me alone, but why Jordyn? She was just a kid when something happened to your parents. She didn't know anyth—"

He lunged.

Slammed her down on the bed, hand crushing her throat.

His eyes—cold, empty—locked on hers.

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear. Voice soft, lethal. "You don't get to mention my parents."

Her face drained. The room reeked of intimacy.

She lay there, gasping, eyes locked on Jordyn.

But Jordyn only looked at Nolan. No shame. Just hunger.

Then her eyes hit Hailey—burning with jealousy and hate.

Nolan let go. Hailey sucked in air, coughing.

He felt no remorse. Not even a flicker.

His robe hung open. Eyes red, zoned in on Jordyn now.

He squinted, voice slow and cruel. "Well, your sister's seen us. What now?"

Like he almost cared.

Jordyn lit up and threw herself at him, her soft body melting into his like she belonged there.

"The Hart family's dead to me," she purred. "I don't have a sister like her."

Hailey's pupils shrank. Lips quivered.

She wanted to ask why—but nothing came out.

Nolan's smirk twisted deeper.

Then, right in front of her, he untied his robe.

"What's the point of sneaking peeks?"

He tipped Jordyn's chin up and took her lips into his mouth.

Hailey shook, then bolted.

"Stop!" Nolan snapped. "One more step and I pull your mom's oxygen—right now."

She froze.

Her whole body trembled, back still to the bed. The sounds behind her were unmistakable. Intimate. Vicious.

One voice was her sister's. The other—Nolan's. The man she once loved like he hung the moon.

She didn't know how long she stood there, numb and dazed.

But Nolan wasn't done. He wanted her watching.

So she turned.

Then he mocked her for looking like a ghost.

So she moved—to the corner.

She crouched down, eyes locked on her feet.

Finally, the noises stopped.

Something landed near her foot.

A used condom. Sticky fluid leaking out.

"Hailey, go give Jordyn a bath."

When Hailey stepped out of Nolan's bedroom, her legs felt like bricks.

She didn't go far—just collapsed onto the couch and waited.

Jordyn came down in full glam: designer outfit, Chanel bag swinging. That's when Hailey's lashes fluttered.

"Why?" Her voice scraped like ash.

"Why what?" Jordyn's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Why I slept with Nolan? Or why I ditched you and the Hart name?"

Her eyes gleamed with spite.

"Please. You knew I liked Nolan. We're both Dad's daughters—so why'd you get it all? I liked him first! Who cares if I was younger? What makes you so special?"

Jordyn's words stabbed deep. Hailey's fists clenched.

"Even so, how could you be with him? Did you forget why Dad's dead?"

"So what? He had it coming." Jordyn leaned in, voice like a blade. "If you were gonna run, why didn't you stay gone?"

Hailey stared at the sister she once loved more than anything. Her eyes, hollow and heavy, held a grief too deep to say out loud.

"You really think he'll pick you? He's using you—to trash Dad's name, to trash all of us."

Jordyn didn't flinch. Just turned and walked off.

Hailey dropped to the floor, completely wrecked.

Her eyes drifted upward—and there he was.

Nolan stood at the top of the stairs, silent. Cold. Just watching her break.

***

With Jordyn around, Nolan stopped barging into Hailey's room like before—no more tearing her clothes off, no more forced nights.

Now he made her stand guard outside his bedroom.

She'd lost count of how many times she sat there, numb to the sounds on the other side. Her heart? Dead quiet.

Nolan dragged Hailey back to the company, slapped "assistant" on her again.

People she used to work with wouldn't even look at her.

Her phone buzzed. Nolan's voice was ice.

"You'll go in my place to tonight's dinner."

Click. He didn't wait for a reply.

Jane from PR dropped off a folder, eyes flicking with sympathy.

"Ms. Hart, Robert Ramirez is a total creep. Just... watch yourself, okay?"

Before Hailey could say anything, another coworker yanked Jane away.

"Are you dumb? Mr. Thorne's setting her up. Ramirez is a known perv—yet he's sending her alone."

Hailey clenched the folder—then pictured her mom, Amelia, still hooked up to machines in the ICU. Her body eased, just a little.

She'd spent a year on the run, doing everything she could to keep Amelia hidden from Nolan.

But he still found them.

She honestly didn't know what else to do to make him stop. To let her go. To leave her family alone.

Donovan dying hadn't been enough.

So... would her death be?

The thought iced her veins. She shook it off fast.

She couldn't die. Not yet.

If she did, who'd look after Amelia?

Jordyn? Please. She hated her—hated all things Hart. She hadn't visited their mom once.

Just thinking about it made Hailey squeeze the folder tighter.

***

That night, Hailey showed up early.

She figured Robert would roll in with a team. Nope. He came solo.

Dinner was gross from the jump. He kept trying to slide his hand over hers.

She yanked back, steadying her voice. "Mr. Ramirez, if your company partners with ours, we'll absolutely hit those targets."

Robert's greasy smile spread across his thick face.

Then he went for it—skipped her hand this time and landed on her thigh.

She flinched, tipping her wine glass straight onto him.

Her face drained. "I'm so sorry—"

But he didn't even bother pretending.

Just clamped his hand around her wrist, eyes locked on her chest.

"Ms. Hart, I came alone for a reason. You get it, right? Project's easy—just make me feel good. Real good. Do that, and I'll toss you eighty, ninety more deals. Whatever you want."

Before she could even move, his hand slid under the table—

Bang!

The door flew open.