I woke up staring at a hospital ceiling.

"You’re awake, finally," a nurse said, relief in her voice. "You’re in really bad shape. We need to call your family."

She hesitated, then said with a sigh, "Miss Maeve’s next door. Barely hurt, but Mr. Karsov hasn’t left her side. Fed her soup, fluffed her pillows. I thought you two were married, but... where is your family? No one came these two days."

I smiled without warmth and didn’t answer. My grandma was already dead. She died two years ago.

The door burst open.

Benedict.

He stormed in like a bomb with legs. He didn’t say a word at first. Just walked up and knocked the medicine tray clean off the bedside table. Glass shattered across the floor. Pills scattered.

His eyes locked on mine like knives.

"You push Maeve into the sea?"

I blinked.

What?

I didn’t even get a chance to respond before he grabbed my wrist. His grip was brutal. The pain shot up my arm.

"She told me everything!" he snapped. "You really think you’re gonna get away with that?! You're really testing my patience!”

I tried to breathe through the pain. The nurse was too afraid to intervene.

"Was that all fake? You just wanted my attention, huh?"

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t beg. That seemed to set him off more. He yanked his hand back and sneered.

"Fine. No doctors. No nurses. Handle it on your own."

Then he left.

**

The next few days were hell. No check-ins. No bandage changes. No one came.

I dragged myself to the cabinet for supplies. Changed my own dressings. My leg throbbed from the shark bite and my side burned from the gash. My hands shook every time I opened a medicine bottle.

I fell twice. Hard.

But I got up.

Because I always did. He thought I’d break.

But he didn’t know me. I grew up taking care of a dying grandmother in a crumbling house with no running water. I learned to clean wounds, lower fevers, and survive on scraps. No one ever took care of me.

**

Six days later, I was ready to leave.

Bag packed. Discharge papers signed. My body was still healing, but my mind was sharper than ever. Then the door slammed open. Benedict stormed in and grabbed my arm.

“Maeve got taken.”

My heart didn’t move.

He added, jaw clenched, “By Damon.”

Damon.

His cousin.

The psychopath. Another mafia mob boss. Dangerous. Unstable. Cruel for sport.

“The hell does that have to do with me?” I asked quietly.

“They want you in exchange,” he snapped. “You go in. Maeve gets released. After four days.”

I didn’t speak.

Damon was the type who smiled while people screamed. The kind who broke things just to see if they’d cry.

“No,” I said flatly.

Benedict’s face turned to stone. “You don’t get a choice.” He stepped closer. Voice low, like a threat disguised as logic. “Damon’s obsessed with you. But if we do this clean… four days, he won’t hurt you. And when it’s done…” His eyes flicked to mine. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

I looked at him. Really looked. And then I smiled.

“Fine. I want a grand wedding.”

He blinked. “What?”

“We never had a real one,” I said, voice steady. “Just a marriage license and a security detail. I want a proper wedding. With guests. Cameras. Vows. Everything.”

He went silent. Thinking. Probably wondering if I’d gone insane.

But it was part of the plan.

When Alodia returned, I’d need a public stage. A spectacle. A perfect moment to hand her the title of Mrs. Karsov. Publicly. Permanently.

He finally gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll give you your damn wedding.”

Then they dropped me off at Damon's estate at midnight and Damon was already waiting… lounging on the couch like a king. The room smelled like spice and cigars.

“Mrs. Karsov,” he drawled, grinning like I was already his. “Been a while.”

**

The first two days weren’t the worst. They didn’t touch me. Not in the way I feared. But they took my blood. Tube after tube. Over and over.

My arms turned black and blue. Skin blistered. My veins felt like fire.

I could handle the pain. But watching it, watching my own blood leave me, unraveled something inside.

By the third day, I was slipping in and out of consciousness when I overheard the guards outside my door.

“Is he serious?” one whispered. “Says he’s gonna drain her dry… and keep her in a glass box like a trophy?”

“Shut up. He said she’s too pretty. The boss wants to preserve her. Like a doll. Forever.”

My breath caught.

So this was the nothing-will-happen promise Benedict gave me?

Selling me off to a lunatic in a tailored suit?

That night, I waited. When the guards were distracted, I grabbed the crystal ornament on the nightstand and smashed it into the window. The glass exploded. I sliced through the rope binding my wrists, then limped to the edge. Without thinking, I jumped.

I heard the crack before I felt it. My right ankle folded the wrong way when I hit the ground. The pain was white-hot. Still, I dragged myself away from that hell, bleeding and shaking, all the way back to the Karsov estate.

I pushed the door open.

There he was. Benedict, down on one knee, gently wrapping a bandage around Maeve’s ankle.

Maeve’s voice wobbled like she was about to cry. “Benny, she’s been gone four days. Aren’t you worried at all?”

Benedict paused, his voice soft like velvet. “I only worry about you. Why didn’t you tell me you hurt your leg? You want me to feel guilty?”

I stood in the doorway, soaked through, ankle swollen to twice its size. Neither of them even looked at me.

I walked past like a ghost.

“Alodia?” He stood up, eyes flicking over me. “What the hell happened?”

I didn’t answer his concern. Didn’t even believe it was real. “When’s the wedding?”

Maeve turned to him, confused. “What wedding?”

Benedict’s jaw clenched. “Ours. She and I are having a ceremony. But don't worry, it was you whom I love most.”

Maeve’s face fell, but she forced a smile. “I get it. You only said yes to save me. I’m not upset.”

She turned to me, syrupy sweet. “Miss Linwood, let me help you pick the dress. It’s the least I can do.”

She followed me to every fitting like a shadow. In the boutique, she fussed over every inch of fabric. Pulled collars higher. Complained about hemlines. Picked gowns that made me look like a porcelain doll instead of a woman.

I stayed quiet, played the part, let her dig her own grave.

After the final fitting, she dropped the act.

“You’re good. Real good,” she hissed, slamming me against the fitting room wall. Her nails dug into my wrist. “You pretend to be cold but you’ve been playing this long game, haven’t you? You think you’re gonna steal him from me?”

I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

Because the truth was worse than whatever she imagined. But she didn’t stop. She started stirring things again.

The night before the wedding, Benedict burst into my room, eyes wild. “You locked Maeve in the fitting room! Fuck, Alodia."

I blinked at him, exhausted. “No.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped, dangerous. “She has claustrophobia. You trying to kill her?”

Before I could say another word, he dragged me up by the arm and shoved me out the door.

“Put her in the basement,” he barked at the guards. “No food. No lights. Let her think about what she’s done.”

They threw me in the dark. Cold. Damp. Reeking of mold. I sat in the corner with my knees to my chest, waiting for the hours to pass. But somewhere after midnight, I heard something.

Rustling. Scratching.

Then I saw them.

A bag of live rats tossed in through the vent.

I screamed. Kicked. Pounded the door until my nails split open. No one came.

The next morning, Benedict finally opened the door. “All that noise for nothing?” he scoffed.

I couldn’t even stand. My face was pale, lips trembling. “Maeve... she put the rats in.”

He looked me dead in the eye. “Maeve wouldn’t do that.”

He flipped the switch. The lights flickered on. The room was spotless.

“No rats here,” he said. “Stop lying.”

I stared at him. Silent.

He turned away like I was dirt on his shoe. “The wedding’s in Six days. I’ll be with Maeve until then. If you screw this up... it’s off.”

He didn’t look back.

I sat on the floor, wrists bleeding, heart colder than the basement. I should’ve known.

No matter what I did, I was always disposable.

But not for long.

Benedict left the basement without looking back. His heavy boots echoed down the hallway until I couldn’t hear them anymore. I waited a few more seconds just to be sure he was gone before I pressed my hand against the cold wall and pushed myself up. My legs were shaky, but I didn’t fall.

I stayed locked in my room. Curtains drawn. Doors shut. I didn’t step outside, not even once. I only ate when I had to, and even then, just a few bites of whatever the servants left on the tray.

And today's the sixth day… I went to the wardrobe and pulled out the suitcase I’d packed days ago. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. Six years in this place and now I couldn’t find a single reason to stay.

At the airport, my Mrs. Linwood was already waiting.

She didn’t greet me. Just handed me an envelope and a bank card.

“One hundred million. No more. No less. Go. Don't ever show yourself.”

My hands trembled as I took the card.

“Thank you “

“You did what you were supposed to do,” she said coldly. “You kept the peace between the families. That was your job. Now it’s over.”

I turned toward the security gate.

I clutched the plane ticket and kept walking. I didn’t look back again. For the first time in years, I wasn’t walking on eggshells. I was walking toward something that might finally belong to me.

Somewhere far away, far from him. From them.

Somewhere I could finally be free.