The day after I married Mark Torrence, I took a briefcase full of his money to the hospital to see my brother. Leo, his leg still mangled from the "accident," slammed the cash against my chest, his face a mask of bitter disappointment. "Jenny, you actually did it. You married Mark Torrence. He's the man who destroyed us." "Is this what it's all about?" he snarled, his voice cracking. "Do you think money can fix Dad's death? Mom's coma? My leg?" For years, whenever he begged me to leave Mark, I had only one answer for him: "Leo, I really love him." But this time, I said nothing. I just knelt, gathered the scattered bills, and walked away without a word. That night, Mark was in high spirits. He pulled me close, his hand tracing my spine as he whispered, "What do you want, little bird? Name your reward." I turned in his arms and said softly, "Freedom." My brother's freedom. 01. Mark’s large hand was still wandering over my skin. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "I don't recall putting you in a cage. You've gone wherever you pleased for years, haven't you?" I snuggled deeper into his embrace, my voice a carefully crafted purr. "I was talking about Leo. Call off your men at the hospital. Please?" "I'm your wife now. My brother hasn't caused any trouble for years. What are you still worried about?" In the darkness of the bedroom, his features were a blur, but I could picture the faint, self-satisfied smile playing on his lips. The look of a man who owned the world and everyone in it. His voice was a slow, deliberate drawl. "Freeing your brother isn't so difficult, you know. If your mother were to pass away, he wouldn't have a reason to stay at the hospital, would he?" My heart stopped. The blood drained from my face, a mercy that the darkness hid my terror. I forced another playful note into my voice. "Mark, you wouldn't want to see me sad, would you?" He pulled me tighter against him, but his voice was laced with a cool warning. "No, I wouldn't. Which is why we're never speaking of this again." I closed my eyes, the scent of him filling my lungs, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. It took every ounce of my willpower not to be sick all over him. My brother hated me for marrying our family's destroyer. But did he really think I had a choice? Mark Torrence's influence was a cancer that had metastasized throughout Sterling City. Years ago, my parents were top researchers in a lab owned by one of his subsidiary companies. He treated them like lab rats, exposing them to a lethal experimental gas. My father died on the spot. My mother slipped into a coma, a shell of a person kept alive by machines. Faced with the wreckage of our family, Mark had simply stood there, one hand in his pocket, looking down on me and my brother as if we were insects. "Bury the dead one," he'd ordered his men. "And get the other one to a hospital. I want to know when she wakes up. That data is crucial to my research. There can be no mistakes." Leo, his fists clenched, had lunged at him, screaming, "You monster! I'm calling the police!" Mark’s bodyguards swarmed him. Mark didn't even flinch, just gave my brother a look of utter disdain. "The police? You won't even be leaving the hospital." At his signal, they snapped my brother's legs. From that day on, Leo was under constant surveillance. I was only thirteen at the time. Too young, Mark thought, to be a threat. His watch over me was lax. That changed when I was fifteen. I jumped from a third-story window and ran, delirious with pain and purpose, straight for the nearest police station. I didn't even make it two blocks before I ran straight into him. His hand closed around my throat. With my free arm, I plunged the fruit knife I'd hidden in my sleeve into his wrist. Blood bloomed, dark and sudden. His men descended on me. I was ready to die. They twisted my arm until the bone snapped, but I held onto the knife, driving it deep into one of the bodyguard's ribs. As the man screamed, Mark finally gave me his full attention. Our eyes met. My own were bloodshot, a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of my mouth. Pinned to the ground, I glared at him with every ounce of hate I possessed. Just as the world began to fade to black, he raised a hand. His men backed off. He walked toward me, his steps measured and deliberate. With a flick of his expensive shoe, he kicked the knife from my grasp. His eyes held a flicker of something new—a dark, analytical amusement. "Vicious little thing," he murmured. 02. After that, he took me to his estate. He had my broken arm set and healed, and he made me a promise: as long as I behaved, he would provide for me. In the three years that followed, I learned the true chasm between us. Defy him, betray him, challenge him—it always ended the same way: a beating and the cold, damp dark of the basement. I was only let out when I had learned my lesson. So I spent the next two years earning his trust. The price of that trust was my brother. When Leo found out Mark had taken me, he stormed the estate, a wild, desperate animal. He was beaten until he was spitting blood, but he still crawled toward me, grabbing my hand, begging me to leave with him. My face was a mask of indifference. I pulled my hand from his grasp. "I'm in love with Mark," I said, the words like acid on my tongue. The shock in my brother's eyes was a knife in my own heart. But I got better at it. The more I broke his heart, the more convincing I became. Eventually, I could look down on him with the same condescending air as Mark himself. "Just go, Leo," I sneered one day. "I'm going to marry him. Mom's been in that bed for ten years. Who knows when she'll finally die? I have to look out for myself." CRACK. The force of his slap sent a ringing through my ears. "Have you lost your mind? Have you no shame?" he roared, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears. "Tell me the truth, Jenny! Is that monster forcing you to do this?" And Mark was standing right behind me, watching it all. I calmly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and ordered the guards to throw my brother out. It was that very day that Mark told me he was going to marry me. There was no engagement. No ceremony. He tossed a diamond ring at me that probably cost less than his watch. That was it. We were married. Because that was all I deserved. I often prayed to the heavens, to my dead father. What am I supposed to do? What other way is there to save us, to save my brother? But the answer was always the same. This body was my only weapon. And it would only work as long as Mark Torrence was still interested in it. Ring— The sudden shrill of Mark's phone cut through my thoughts. He answered it, and a sweet, feminine voice cooed from the other end. A few minutes later, he was dressed and heading for the door. The moment the front door clicked shut, a text message lit up my phone. It was from my brother. Just one line. [Jenny Asher. As of today, we are no longer brother and sister.] 03. My brother could curse me, hate me, call me anything he wanted. But for him to disown me... that was the one thing I couldn't bear. I knew then that I had to accelerate my plan. When Mark left, he was usually gone until at least noon. I waited until the house staff were taking their mid-morning break, then slipped into his study. All the data from his illegal labs was on his computer. Even after all these years, there had to be a digital trail. I’d tried before, but the computer was protected by a three-tiered security system that would stump professionals. So, for the past few months, I had been secretly teaching myself to code. I bypassed the first two layers of security with relative ease. The third was just a matter of time. My hands trembled with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. As I typed the final character of the bypass code, I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming in triumph. The desktop flared to life. And from behind me, I heard a soft, derisive chuckle. I spun around, my heart seizing in my chest, and looked straight into Mark Torrence's ice-cold eyes. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. His words were a death sentence. "I trust you remember the basement, Jenny." 04. I hadn't been in the basement for five years. Thrown back into the damp darkness, my arm broken again, I felt like I was suffocating. My face and body were slick with blood. This time, Mark had done the honors himself. He stood over me, a baseball bat resting on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "I thought you were the smart one. It seems ten years wasn't enough to teach you your place." "Jenny, I was actually going to let it all go. Why couldn't you just behave?" My mouth was full of blood. I spat a pink-tinged gob onto the concrete floor, sticking to my one and only story. "I was bored. I just wanted to play a game." Mark sneered. "That's a pathetic excuse. Do you really expect me to believe that?" I cradled my shattered arm, my voice flat. "You walk out on your new wife to see another woman. Can't I have a little fun of my own? Or is there something on that computer you don't want people to see?" He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, a predatory gleam in his eyes. To my shock, he admitted it. "Of course there is. It contains a complete record of your mother's biometric data for the past decade." He crouched down, his voice a low, mocking whisper. "I know what you want, Jenny. But you're being naive. Even if you got that evidence, it would be useless in this city." He was right. He had his hands in everything, legal and illegal. His public image as a philanthropist was impeccable. Without concrete, irrefutable proof, I could never touch him. I gritted my teeth. "I want your love, Mark." His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, the same flash of surprise he'd shown the day I stabbed his wrist. "I want your absolute, undivided love," I pressed on, my voice gaining strength. "I don't care if my mother lives or dies. But you... you have to love me." He moved closer. "So that's what this is about. That phone call." He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Don't worry. You'll never see that woman in Sterling City again." His voice was a soft, dangerous caress. "This is the Jenny I know. Vicious. I like it. But you still tried to hack my computer, and I can't just let that go." "So here's what we'll do. I'll give you one more chance. Go to your brother. Make things right." ... At the hospital, I found Leo slumped on a bench in the hallway, his head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. He was only three years older than me, but he looked like a man in his late thirties. Ten years of this hell had eroded the strong, vibrant young man he'd been, leaving this exhausted, broken shell. My fingers curled into a fist. I walked over and sat down beside him. He opened his eyes at the sound, and when he saw it was me, he recoiled as if he'd been burned. He scrambled to his feet, limping a few steps away, putting distance between us. "What are you doing here? I thought we were done." The hospital was crawling with Mark's men. I looked at him, my gaze deep and unwavering, but my voice was cold enough to freeze water. "Leo Asher, a text message has no legal standing." "I have the papers here. A declaration of severance. Once you sign it, you and your mother will be nothing to me." His mouth fell open, his eyes filled with a fresh wave of shock and despair. He knew a text wasn't legally binding. He'd sent it as a last-ditch effort, a final plea for me to come to my senses. He never thought I would take it this far. I fought back the lump in my throat and pulled the documents and a pen from my bag. "Sign it. After this, we're strangers. What I do will no longer be your concern." He clenched his jaw, his eyes boring into me. "Jenny, I'm asking you one last time. Are you really in love with him? Have you forgotten what he did to our parents? Have you forgotten my leg?" The words wouldn't come. I had spoken so many cruel, decisive words to him over the years. But this time, my throat was closed. He stepped forward and grabbed my hand, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Jenny, this is your last chance. Leave him. Come back to me. We'll find a way to get justice. As long as we're together, we can survive this! Do you want Dad to be unable to rest in peace?" A sharp pain shot through my nose, and I almost broke down. A last chance. Everyone was giving me a last chance. But what was I supposed to do? If I went back to Leo, everything I had worked for, everything I had endured, would be for nothing. All my pain, all my humiliation, would be meaningless. If I stayed with Mark, it was just more of the same, a slow, agonizing death of the soul. After all these years, I was still no closer to getting the evidence I needed. What if I never got it? What if one day, my mother and brother couldn't hold on any longer? What was I supposed to do? As I stood there, paralyzed by indecision, Leo's grip on my hand tightened, his eyes pleading. And from behind me came the slow, mocking sound of applause. "What a touching scene. A pair of suffering siblings. How pathetic." Leo's expression turned murderous. He let go of me and limped toward Mark. Just as he was about to swing, I grabbed his arm. "Leo, sign the papers!" "You!" he choked, enraged. The punch that was meant for Mark swung wide and connected with my face. The world spun. I collapsed to the floor, the impact jarring my broken arm. He stood over me, his entire body shaking with fury. "How could I have a sister like you? Have you no shame? Why wasn't it you who died? Why aren't you the one lying in that bed?" "Do you think Mom and Dad would be proud of you? Am I?" Pain, sharp and white-hot, shot up my arm. I couldn't meet his eyes. My voice was a trembling whisper, but I repeated the words. "Sign it!" He looked at me, his face a mask of utter defeat. He nodded, a single, jerky motion. He snatched the pen and scribbled his name on the line. I let out a silent breath of relief. I struggled to my feet, snatched the contract from his hand, and looped my arm through Mark's, turning my back on my brother. I could feel his gaze burning into my back all the way down the hall. Back in the car, Mark traced the swelling bruise on my cheek. His voice was laced with a triumphant smile. "Now, Jenny," he said. "You have no one left but me." 05. I was sick. First, the beating from Mark, then the violent confrontation with my brother. My body finally gave out. A raging fever took hold. I was freezing, no matter how many blankets were piled on top of me. A deep, bone-chilling tremor wracked my body, a physical manifestation of the terror that had become my constant companion. Just as I felt myself slipping away, a man entered my bedroom. He gently wiped the sweat from my brow and carefully tucked the blankets around me. The gesture was so tender, it reminded me of Leo. My eyes flew open. But the face looking down at me wasn't my brother's. It was Mark's. My heart plummeted into an abyss. He stroked my hair, his voice as soft as a demon's whisper. "Jenny, you're pregnant." "I was wrong the other day. I'm sorry. From now on, as long as you love me with all your heart, I'll love you back. I promise." My pupils constricted. Under the blankets, my hand clenched into a fist. First shock, then a wild, triumphant joy. I knew Mark had always wanted a child. And this child might just be the key to his downfall. A smile spread across my face. To him, it must have looked like a smile of pure happiness. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, his eyes dark and intense. "Jenny, you've cut ties with your brother. If you carry this child to term, safely, I'll consider pulling my men from the hospital." I met his gaze, my voice weak. "Leo has already given up trying to find evidence. Mom's... his mother's illness is more than enough to keep him occupied. After the baby is born, let's go abroad. It's been years. Any evidence you had is long gone anyway." He squeezed my hand, his face radiating contentment. "Okay. Whatever you want. As long as Leo Asher behaves himself, I'll call off the surveillance. For you, I'll set him free." His hand slipped under the covers, coming to rest on my flat stomach. "And when we're abroad, I'll give you a real wedding. Jenny, it took having a child to make me realize how much I... care for you. Now, we're a real family." I forced my lips into a gentle smile. Inside, I was screaming. My family is my brother and my mother. Not you, Mark Torrence. Just you wait. One day, I will be the one to send you to hell. ... After the fever broke, Mark took me to the hospital for a check-up. The baby was healthy, a tiny, flickering heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. The smile never left Mark's face. As we were leaving, I "accidentally" left the diagnostic report behind. Then I feigned a wave of morning sickness and asked him to go back and get it for me. He told me to wait for him and not to wander off. The moment he was out of sight, I hailed a cab and raced back to the estate. The password to his study computer had been changed back to something simple. Perhaps he was finally letting his guard down. I didn't overthink it. I tried his birthday, his mother's birthday, even the birthday of the woman who had called him that night. All of them failed. I frowned, preparing to hack my way in again. But as my fingers touched the mouse, an idea struck me. A cold, chilling premonition. I typed in the date. The date Mark Torrence first brought me to his home. The computer unlocked. The desktop wallpaper was a photo of the two of us. I let out a cold, humorless laugh. You said it yourself, Mark. A man with a weakness is a man who can be broken. My fingers flew across the keyboard. Finally, in a hidden directory, I found a folder labeled "LAB." My heart hammered in my chest, my palms sweating with excitement. I clicked it open. The smile on my face froze. On the screen was a live feed. It was my brother, struggling against several of Mark's men. They had him pinned to the floor. His eyes, wild and red-rimmed, stared through the camera, directly at me. "Jenny! What the hell are you and Torrence doing? I disowned you, wasn't that enough? Are you trying to get me and Mom killed?" My pupils shrank to pinpricks. I slapped a hand over my mouth, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. "Heh..." Mark's figure suddenly entered the frame. He looked at the camera, his expression one of profound disappointment. His voice was a cold sneer. "Do you see, Jenny? This is your precious brother. You fight so hard to protect him, and this is the thanks you get." "Don't think I don't know what was really in that severance agreement you had him sign." "It was a liability waiver, wasn't it? Stating that no matter what actions you took, he would not be held responsible." "You wanted to kill me, Jenny." BZZZZT— My mind went blank, as if my very soul had been ripped from my body.
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