1 On the day of my eighteenth birthday, Willow Hawthorne, the girl who’d lived my privileged life for eighteen years, live-streamed her suicide attempt. "Sister's right," her voice trembled, hollow and fragile, "a life stolen like mine... it's just sickening to be alive!" When my parents, prominent figures in the city's underworld, found out, they went berserk, forcing me to my knees, demanding an apology. I refused, so they dragged me into a damp, venomous pit of a basement cell, where they tortured me day after day. My own brother, Dax, even invited his friends to live-stream my humiliation. "Elara, if it weren't for you, Willow wouldn't be this depressed, hurting herself! You should have just died out there!" I looked at my bruised and battered body, a cold dread seeping into my very bones. “Captain Hayes, it’s time to pull the plug.” My undercover mission. I wanted it to be over. … "Mr. Hawthorne, I've just opened a new 'Pit.' Care to bring Miss Elara for a little... visit?" A tremor of pure terror shook me. "Brother, please... don't do this to me..." "Shut up," Dax glared at me, his eyes brimming with disgust. "Who gave you, a mongrel like you, permission to call me 'brother'?" "Elara, if it weren't for you, Willow wouldn't be this depressed, hurting herself! You should have just died out there!" My heart stopped. Willow had deliberately slandered me, but no one, not a single soul, believed me. My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne, called Dax, urging him not to be soft. "Willow's having nightmares every night because of that wretch. She deserves to be left for the beasts, it's what she gets!" My eyes burned, a searing dryness, but not a single tear fell. Finally, unable to bear another word, I gritted my teeth and raised my broken, throbbing hand, rubbing it against the nearly transparent white dot hidden behind my ear. I wanted to end the undercover mission. Before I'd ever stepped foot into the Hawthorne mansion, the Silverwood City Police had found me. They'd asked for my help in gathering evidence against the Hawthorne family's criminal enterprise. But I'd clung to the fleeting warmth of a family, however false, and hadn't signaled Captain Hayes to close the net. Now, I understood just how laughable I'd been. Dax hung up the phone, then viciously kicked my fractured arm. I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat, but it didn't stir a flicker of pity in his eyes. "Take her to your 'Pit' tonight. She can warm up the place for you!" My eyes widened in terror. "Brother... no, Mr. Hawthorne, I'm sorry. I'll apologize to Miss Willow. Please, just let me go." I was truly afraid. Since they’d thrown me into that lightless basement cell, I barely dared to sleep. I feared the venomous creatures that crawled in the dark. I’d endured until Dax and his cronies finally came, only to face endless cruelty. I wanted to leave this place alive. My eyes raw, I pleaded with him. "I really will apologize to Miss Willow..." Dax scoffed, a cold, mocking sound. "You've done this to Willow, and a flimsy 'sorry' is supposed to fix it? Don't you dare dream!" He ordered his men to drag me out by a dog chain. The newly scabbed wounds on my body tore open again, bleeding. The pain was unbearable. I stumbled, accidentally smearing blood onto Dax’s pants. He immediately kicked me away. "You blind fool! Willow herself gave me these clothes!" Already drained of strength, the kick sent me sprawling, directly into unconsciousness. When I next awoke, I was in an iron cage. Dax had his men douse me with cold water to rouse me. But as the man approached, I realized it was Captain Hayes. He whispered, his voice barely audible, "Three days. We're pulling the plug. Hold on." I forced a nod, my body trembling uncontrollably. A sense of dread churned in my stomach. It wasn’t until they carried me out later that night that I understood where the dread had come from. 2 "Brother, those beasts look so fierce. Elara's going to get hurt." Willow, exquisite in her haute couture gown, spoke with feigned concern, but her eyes, when they met mine, glinted with malicious triumph. Back in the Hawthorne mansion, she'd often played this innocent charade. Before my eighteenth birthday, she'd dropped the pretense entirely, her voice a chilling whisper: "Elara, I won't let you have your way. There's only room for one princess in the Hawthorne family! Everything here belongs to me!" Now, Willow intentionally paraded her deep bond with Dax, a public display of their supposed sibling devotion. "Willow, you're just too kind-hearted. That's why she always takes advantage of you. Today, brother’s here to get revenge for you!" Dax patted her hand. Then, with a clap of his own, a two-meter-tall tiger was unleashed. A deafening roar split the air, sending me cowering into the corner of my cage, frozen in terror. Dax's friends whistled and jeered, egging Willow on. "Elara, get up and fight it! What a useless piece of trash!" "Look, she peed herself! Hahahaha!" The tiger lunged at the iron cage. Overwhelmed by fright, I passed out. But barely two seconds later, I was doused with cold water again, jolted back to agonizing consciousness. My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne, had arrived. They instructed Dax's friends to unleash more beasts. "Let her learn a lesson. At eighteen, with a heart so cruel? Imagine what she'll be like when she's older." By the end, my body was a canvas of purple and black, no patch of skin untouched. Willow then brought me a small tube of ointment. "Sister Elara, this will make your scars heal quickly!" Dax’s cold gaze swept over me. "Aren't you going to thank Miss Willow?" I didn't want to provoke them further, so I bowed my head like a dog, humbly mumbling my thanks for the condescending gift. Willow pursed her lips, a small smile playing on them, and ordered someone to apply the ointment to my wounds. But the moment the cream touched my skin, it felt like a thousand needles pricking me. The treated wounds instantly swelled and turned a fiery red. I writhed in agony, my face contorted in a silent scream. Dax, however, simply frowned and snapped, "Elara, it's just some ointment! What are you being so dramatic for?" Willow offered her fake comfort. "Sister Elara, applying medicine to damaged skin always hurts." The pain was so intense I couldn't even speak. It wasn't long before I started foaming at the mouth, convulsing, and finally, mercifully, slipped back into unconsciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed. The Hawthorne family stood just outside the room, comforting a red-eyed Willow. "I really didn't mean to, I didn't know Sister Elara was allergic to this medicine!" "We all know Willow meant well, it's not your fault. It's Elara's fault for not saying anything beforehand..." My gaze was empty, fixed on the ceiling. I'd used that ointment before, and I’d never had an allergic reaction. "I'm sorry, Sister Elara." Willow approached my bed to apologize, but her hand purposefully pressed down on my IV needle. I instinctively recoiled, pushing her away. "Elara, what are you doing?" Dax glared, calling me an ungrateful wretch. "It's okay, brother, I just accidentally fell." Willow quickly covered for me. "You don't need to make excuses for her! I saw her trying to hurt you!" Dax lunged, grabbing my hair, forcing my head down, demanding an apology. My face was ashen, the IV tubing twisted on my hand, blood flowing backward. A nurse intervened, saving me from further humiliation. Dax finally relented, but his parting words were a chilling threat: "Next time, you won't have those hands anymore." After they left, I finally had a moment of peace. I curled up in the hospital bed, my eyes red, trying to steel myself. Just two more days until freedom. Mrs. Hawthorne came in, lecturing me with a tone of frustrated disappointment. "Elara, you were always meant to be a Hawthorne. Why do you insist on being so hostile towards Willow?" Mr. Hawthorne joined in the admonishment. "Willow saved our lives. If you harass her again, I'll kick you out of this family!" They say good deeds are rewarded, but why was I, who’d saved three people from the sea, still suffering like this? 3 "Miss Elara, you have multiple bone fractures. If you suffer another injury, you might not fully recover. You must rest." The doctor's face was grim. But the decision to rest wasn't mine to make. I forced my battered body towards the restroom, passing through the lobby. There, I saw Dax and his cronies. "Mr. Hawthorne, those compromising photos of Elara? They could sell for hundreds of thousands!" Dax lit a cigarette, a sneer on his lips. "Look at your pitiful ambitions." "Heh heh, boss, so... can we take a few more pictures later? Just to round it up and buy a Mercedes!" "Take as many as you want. Willow is the only sister I acknowledge." My body trembled, my mind a blank void of horror. As I turned to flee, I was grabbed. "So this is the real Hawthorne heiress, huh? Not bad looking!" "She's no Hawthorne! Her name is Elara!" Willow snarled, slapping me hard across the face, causing my ears to ring. "Elara, today, I'm going to finish you for good!" She lunged, reaching for a stun gun, but the kidnappers stopped her. "Hey, if you kill her now, how are we going to get the ransom?" Willow, frustrated, resorted to kicking me several times. By the time the Hawthorne family arrived, she had already transformed herself into the helpless victim. "Sister Elara is badly hurt! Save her first!" I had been given a drug beforehand, leaving me unable to speak. All I could do was stare, eyes wide, as they played out their cruel charade. The kidnapper feigned a kick to Willow's chair, and the Hawthorne parents’ eyes instantly filled with fury. "Don't hurt Willow! If you want to vent your anger, hit Elara instead! She's tough, she can take it!" The kidnappers chuckled, then brought their clubs down on my already fractured arm. Tears streamed down my face from the searing pain. But the Hawthorne family only comforted Willow, completely ignoring me. "Don't be scared, sweetheart. Mom and Dad will save you." "Your brother has already prepared the ransom. Just a little more, Willow!" The kidnappers declared they could only save one person with the ransom. Without hesitation, the Hawthorne family chose Willow. "Elara, don't blame us. Just blame it on fate, on us having no connection in this life." I watched them in despair. "Mom, Dad, are we really not saving Sister Elara?" They shielded Willow, keeping her close, preventing her from seeing me endure the kidnappers' abuse. "No, we're not. When she dies, we'll pick out a good burial plot for her." "Elara can consider this repayment for all the bad things she did to Willow!" My expression was numb, my vision consumed by black. I thought I was dead. But then, the Hawthorne subordinates arrived. The kidnappers met a gruesome end, though a few managed to escape. I was rushed to the hospital once more. My only small relief was that Dax's friends hadn't come to torment me. One more day, and I would be free. But that very night, the Hawthorne family, disregarding my injuries, brought me back home. "Tomorrow is Willow's birthday. She wants you to join us. Make sure you clean up nicely, don't embarrass the Hawthorne name!" Dax's attitude towards me had softened considerably. But I no longer cared. The next morning, I was woken early to prepare. Willow sent me a strapless evening gown. My body, a roadmap of scars, was exposed completely. The Hawthorne parents saw me and were instantly displeased. "You're wearing this? Do you want everyone to know how badly we treat you?" My injured throat croaked out a defense. "Miss Willow sent it..." "Elara," Dax shot me a chilling glare, "are you trying to badmouth Willow again? Haven't you learned your lesson yet?" Willow smirked at me, a silent, triumphant taunt. "No one will believe you." But in the very next second, her smile vanished.
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