At Serenity Dolls—a hyper-realistic adult doll showroom—seven men mistook me for an exhibit and assaulted me during my night shift. I bit one attacker severely, leaving him permanently maimed. The court deemed it "excessive self-defense," sentencing me to three years. The day I was jailed, my fiancé Warren left me. The day I was freed, my parents received a video of my assault and prison abuse. One bashed their head into a wall; the other jumped off our roof. After burying them, the man I’d maimed returned, threatening to desecrate their graves unless I filmed something worse. As I lunged at their headstone, my college friend Kian stopped me, promising me a home. Seven months pregnant, I overheard Kian confess: "You hired those men to corner Stella, destroyed the footage, and fed cops false evidence. When she got out, you orchestrated her parents’ deaths and let that animal violate her again." His friend asked if he regretted it. "I had to break her. Warren’s family would never have let him marry Peggy otherwise. This is the only way I can give Peggy the life she deserves." Their words shattered everything. Kian paved a golden road for Peggy. Fine. I’ll pave one for them all—straight to hell. 01 “Those seven guys called again yesterday. They’re demanding three hundred thousand this time.” Kian lit a cigarette. “Pay them. I have another job for them.” Jack, his friend, was aghast. “Kian, are you out of your goddamn mind?” “Peggy is Peggy, but she’s married to Warren now, carrying his child! Stella, whatever her past, is carrying your child.” “You already caused her infertility by spiking her herbal tonics with birth control. She went through hell with IVF—countless pills and injections—just to get pregnant. She’s seven months along now. If something goes wrong, you could lose them both!” Kian finally shot Jack a sideways glance. “You’re awfully worked up about Stella. You falling for her?” A faint blush crept up Jack’s neck. “What the hell are you talking about?” But Kian, his mind consumed by Peggy, didn’t notice Jack’s discomfort. “Once Peggy secures her place by giving the Locke family their first grandson, I’ll make it up to Stella. I’ll take care of her.” As he was leaving, Kian paused. “By the way, is Stella’s baby a boy or a girl?” “A boy.” Kian nodded, a thoughtful, chilling look in his eyes. “A boy is good. If anything… unexpected happens with the Locke family, or with Peggy’s pregnancy, Stella’s baby could be… useful.” Jack was confused. “What do you mean? What does Stella’s baby have to do with Peggy and the Lockes?” A shadow passed over Kian’s face. “Nothing.” After they left, I clamped a hand over my mouth, my legs giving way as I slid to the floor. My heart felt like a block of ice. So, he was the architect of all my suffering. Kian. It was always Kian. And what did he mean, that my baby was connected to Peggy and the Locke family? A dark, formless dread began to take root in my soul. Terrified of being followed, I took the crowded subway instead of a cab. On the way, I called my best friend, Chloe, in another city, asking her to find me a place to stay. I told her I was coming soon. I was just steps from my apartment building when three men grabbed me, shoving me into a windowless van. When I opened my eyes, every nerve in my body screamed. The man I’d maimed stood over me. He yanked my hair, pulling my head back, and slapped me hard across the face, once, twice, three times. “Bitch!” he spat, his face a mask of rage. “Because of you, I’m a goddamn eunuch.” He leaned in close, his breath foul. “Little slut. Just wait and see what I do to you.” Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I didn’t dare cry out. I shielded my head with one arm and my pregnant belly with the other as he kicked my leg, a sharp, brutal impact. Another one of them, a guy with bleached-blond hair, snapped several pictures of me before dialing a number. “Mr. Locke? We’ve got your girl, Stella. If you want her back alive, bring five million. In person. Now.” A cool, detached voice answered from the speakerphone. “You have the wrong person. My woman is Peggy. And she’s in my bed right now.” The blond thug just smirked, tossed the phone aside, and ripped my dress open. He grabbed a beer bottle, smashed it against the wall, and held the jagged neck menacingly close, moving it toward the space between my legs. Just then, the warehouse door flew open with a deafening crash. Kian burst in. He moved like a phantom, a whirlwind of controlled violence. One against seven. It was over in minutes, all of them left groaning or unconscious on the filthy floor. “Stella, honey, are you hurt? I was so worried!” He apologized profusely the entire ride home. I just stared out the window, a cold, hollow feeling in my chest. It was all so laughable. Those thugs were terrible actors, their "unconsciousness" a pathetic charade. And Kian. His flashy moves were impressive, I’ll give him that. His performance of a deeply concerned husband was Oscar-worthy. Later that night, I drifted in a half-sleep, only to be pulled awake by the sound of Kian’s voice from the balcony. He was on the phone. “Peggy,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “I miss you. My whole body aches for you.” “It’s Stella’s birthday tomorrow. Will you come over? Please?” Half an hour later, he slipped into bed, wrapping his arms around me. He whispered into my hair, his voice laced with guilt, “Once Peggy and the baby have secured their inheritance from the Locke family, I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.” After his breathing evened out into a deep sleep, my eyes snapped open, clear and cold in the darkness. A demon. I don’t want your apologies, Kian. I just want you in hell. 02 At breakfast, Kian brought up my birthday again. “I don’t feel like celebrating. You guys can go out if you want,” I said, my voice flat. But he insisted. “You haven’t socialized at all since… everything that happened. You can’t keep bottling yourself up like this.” “It’s not good for your mood, which means it’s not good for the baby, and…” I was too tired to argue. “Fine. Do whatever you want.” My plan was simple: when they arrived, I’d leave. But I underestimated Kian’s determination to keep me there. He locked me in the house. That evening, he returned with Peggy, who was five months pregnant, and a group of his friends. The way his friends looked at me made my skin crawl. Their leering eyes stripped me bare, and I felt a familiar, chilling dread creep up my spine. It was the same look those seven men had given me, their predatory gazes filled with sickening hunger right before they tore my clothes, right before the pain and the blood. I started to tremble uncontrollably, instinctively curling into myself. “Hey, Stella,” one of them sneered. “No need to be shy with us. We’ve all seen that video of you a hundred times. Gotta say, you sound pretty good when you scream.” “Yeah,” another chimed in, “and at the end, the way you were shaking… looked like you were really getting into it, huh?” “We’re all curious, Stella. How’d you get your rocks off in prison? Did the guards hook you up? Did they pay?” I couldn’t take it anymore. “Say one more word,” I roared, my voice raw, “and I’ll rip your fucking tongues out!” Peggy shot the men a warning glance. “That’s enough. You have to show some respect. After all,” she said, her eyes glinting with malice, “she belongs to Kian.” I stared at Peggy, her undisguised hostility a splash of cold water that shocked me back to my senses. She then turned back to them, her voice dripping with mock curiosity. “Where in the video did you see her shaking like that? I’ve watched it so many times, and I must have missed it. What’s the timestamp?” “Fifty-two minutes, thirty-seven seconds,” one of them answered immediately. “Clear as day.” Suddenly, the living room was filled with the sounds from that video—my desperate screams, my pleas for mercy, punctuated by the grunts and vile laughter of men. I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the memories. Peggy pried my hands away with a sickly sweet smile. “Why cover your ears?” She gestured towards Kian’s smirking friends, at the noticeable bulges in their pants. “You scream even better than those dolls in the showroom, you know. Look, you’ve got them all worked up.” I slapped her hand away, snatched the phone playing the video, and smashed it against the floor. “Monsters! You’re all monsters!” Kian emerged from the kitchen just in time to see me shove Peggy away. He rushed to her side, steadying her as he turned on me, his voice a furious whip. “Stella, what the hell is wrong with you?!” “Peggy is pregnant! What if you’d hurt her?” I touched my own seven-month belly and looked at Kian, a cold, bitter laugh escaping my lips. “And where were you when your friends were torturing your wife? Are you blind?” My words hit their mark. He flinched, glancing at his friends. “Hey, show some class,” he muttered at them. “Don’t take it too far.” I let out another self-mocking laugh and turned to leave. So that’s all I was. A dog to be scolded, but still his property. “Wait!” Kian called out. For a fleeting, foolish moment, my heart lifted. I thought he was going to apologize. Instead, he grabbed my arm, his grip like iron, and dragged me in front of Peggy. “Apologize to her.” I looked up in disbelief, my eyes meeting Peggy’s, which were now filled with a soft, wounded expression. I turned back to Kian. “For what?” Peggy put on a show of defending me. “Kian, please, let’s just drop it. I’m sure Stella didn’t mean to push me.” Seeing the tears welling up in Peggy’s eyes only fueled Kian’s anger. He stroked her hair soothingly. “You’re carrying a baby, and she’s not blind. I think she knew exactly what she was doing.” He glared at me, his voice a low command. “Apologize.” I knew then there was no hope. He was blind to everything but her. Just as I was about to force the word out, someone kicked the back of my knees. My legs buckled, and I crashed to the floor, kneeling before Peggy. I twisted around. It was the man whose phone I had smashed. “That was a brand new, ten-thousand-dollar phone,” he snarled. “I’ll let it slide today, out of respect for Kian. But you’re going to get on your knees and bow your head to Peggy and beg for her forgiveness.” Peggy covered her mouth, hiding a triumphant smirk as she pretended to help me up. “Oh, Stella, please don’t. I couldn’t bear to have you kneel to me.” Kian pushed her hand away and repeated his command, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Apologize.” I looked at their hands, intertwined and secure. “Fine. You want an apology? I’ll give you one.” I scanned the room, my gaze passing over each of their smug faces. Still on my knees, I shifted back slightly. “In fact, since everyone is here, I’ll apologize to all of you at once.” 03 As they jeered, pulling out their phones to film me, I began. I bowed my head to the floor once, for Peggy. “I’m sorry.” My voice was dead calm. “It was my mistake to have ever crossed paths with you.” I bowed a second time, for the man whose phone I’d broken. “My apologies.” “I am nothing but a dog, and I’m grateful you would even bother to scold me on Kian’s behalf.” Then, I turned my gaze to Kian. A third bow. “I’m sorry.” Sorry that my pain could never compete with your masterful performance. Sorry that I deserved every bit of your venomous scheming. Kian’s face tightened. He opened his mouth to say something, but Peggy squeezed his hand, and his expression softened as he turned his attention back to her. Finally, I looked at the group as a whole and bowed a fourth time. “My deepest apologies to all of you.” May you never be reincarnated as human. May you all burn in the deepest circle of hell. Four bows. It’s a ritual reserved for the dead. One of them finally caught on. “What the fuck? You only bow four times for the dead! Are you cursing us?!” Peggy gasped, clutching her belly. “Kian! Is she putting a curse on my baby?” Kian’s face contorted into a mask of pure fury. He lunged at me, his hand clamping around my throat, lifting me slightly off the floor. “Stella,” he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. “Are you looking for death?” I stared right back into his murderous eyes, a defiant smile playing on my lips as I closed my own. “Go on, Kian. Don’t be a coward. If you have the guts, then kill me.” You already have my parents’ blood on your hands. What’s one more life? The hatred in his eyes burned hotter. His grip tightened, the force making the veins on his arm bulge. “Beg me, Stella.” I couldn’t breathe, my face flushing a deep red, but I refused to make a sound. In front of everyone, he was either trying to save face or break my will. He squeezed harder, determined to do one or the other. “Beg me, or I swear to God, I will kill you right here.” The others just watched, a silent, morbid audience. Peggy smoothed her dress, her gaze drifting to the gold locket around my neck. Only Jack seemed concerned. “Kian, stop! She’s carrying your child!” A flicker of something—hesitation? recognition?—crossed Kian’s eyes. With a final, brutal surge of strength, he threw me aside. “Stella,” he snarled, breathing heavily. “I had no idea you were so unafraid to die.” The searing pain in my neck was a stark reminder of how close I had just come to seeing my parents again. I met Kian’s hateful glare and laughed, a ragged, broken sound. “You really are a coward, Kian.” His face turned ashen with rage. He started towards me again, ready to finish the job, but Jack threw himself in the way, holding him back. Jack reached a hand out to help me up, but I flinched away. A pack of demons in human skin. The reaper is coming for all of you. Peggy pressed herself into Kian’s arms, her voice a pathetic whimper. “Kian, I’m so scared of ghosts and curses and… all that death talk. I know I’m going to have nightmares.” “I’ve heard,” she added, her eyes fixing on my neck, “that a protective charm can ward off evil things.” Without a word, without even a glance in my direction, Kian strode over and ripped the gold locket from my neck. The delicate chain snapped, cutting into my skin. “A venomous woman like you doesn’t deserve protection,” he spat, turning to Peggy. “Here. You wear it for now.” I touched the back of my neck, my fingers coming away sticky with blood. “The great Mrs. Locke,” I scoffed, “so desperate she’s coveting something that belonged to a dead woman. What a pathetic joke.” “Ugh! How disgusting!” Peggy shrieked, realizing the locket was a family heirloom from my deceased mother. She threw it to the ground with such force that the pendant shattered into three pieces. My eyes locked on the broken fragments. A violent tremor ran through my body. Kian’s face went rigid. He took a half-step toward me. “I’ll have someone…” But Peggy cut him off, clutching her stomach. “Kian, my stomach hurts.” Instantly, all his attention was on her. “I’ll help you lie down for a bit.” As they passed by me, while I was kneeling to pick up the pieces of my mother’s locket, Peggy deliberately stomped her heel down hard on the back of my hand. “Ah!” I cried out in pain. At my cry, Peggy stumbled dramatically, her eyes filling with tears as she looked accusingly at me. “Stella, I’m pregnant! How could you be so wicked as to stick your foot out and trip me?” She turned her tear-streaked face to Kian. “Kian, I think I should just go home.” Kian spun around and kicked me squarely in the back. “It was just a piece of jewelry! Do you have to be so goddamn malicious?” He ignored my pale face, my bleeding hand. He dragged me like a sack of garbage into a guest room and threw me inside. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through my abdomen. “It was Peggy,” I gasped, my face ashen. “She stepped on my hand on purpose.” Kian glanced at my bleeding hand and sneered. “You’d even hurt yourself just to frame her. You’re pathetic.” “Think about what you’ve done,” he said, his voice cold as ice. “Don’t even think about coming out until you have. And you can forget about dinner.” Peggy’s eyes fell on the phone in my hand. “It won’t be so bad. She can just scroll on her phone while she reflects.” Kian’s face darkened. He snatched my phone from my hand and slammed the door, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing in the small room. My stomach growled, and a series of sharp contractions began, each one more intense than the last. I screamed until my throat was raw, but no one came. The sounds of a football game, of boisterous laughter and shuffling mahjong tiles, drifted in from the living room, mocking my isolation. Sometime late in the night, I was drifting in a feverish, half-conscious state when the door to my room began to shake with a rhythmic, sickening thud. A man’s voice, Kian’s voice, pleaded, “Peggy, please, let’s go to the master bedroom. Your belly is so big… this is too dangerous. I’m afraid I’ll lose control and hurt our son.”
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