Alena had been in her room since Aiden dropped her back at the farmhouse. She sat in the corner, her canvas before her, brush in hand, but her strokes were aimless, lines and smears without shape, as if her heart refused to give direction to the colors. The phone on her desk buzzed again and again, lighting up with that same number. She didn't reach for it. She couldn't. Every vibration only deepened the nausea in her stomach, every chime a reminder that she had no escape.
Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. She had no strength left to fight back, no strength to even hope. The thought looped endlessly in her mind: Maybe this is it. Maybe my fate is to be broken again and again until nothing remains of me.
That night, she skipped dinner. When Kieran came by to check on her, she pretended to be asleep. He lingered for a moment, his gaze softening at the sight of her small figure curled beneath the blanket. he had a lot of questions to ask, but he didn't want to disturb her. Gently, he brushed back a loose strand of hair and pressed a kiss against her temple. He smiled faintly, as if reassuring himself that she was safe, before tucking the blanket around her and leaving quietly.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Alena's tears broke free. Silent, desperate sobs soaked her pillow. Her chest ached. She felt guilty, she felt she is unworthy, she felt she is going to bring disgrace to him if she is associated with him. Her body shook violently as she pressed her fist against her mouth to muffle her cries.
You didn't come today, and you'll face the consequences of not obeying me.
The words from Jessi's father still echoed in her head, poisoning every corner of her soul.
By dawn, she hadn't slept. Her eyes were swollen, her face pale and drawn. She slipped on sunglasses, avoiding everyone in the farmhouse, especially Kieran and Aiden. She climbed into the guard's car silently, her head bowed low.
At the art school gate, she froze. Jessi and Jack were waiting.
"ALENA," Jessi's voice was sharp, laced with fury.
Alena turned slowly, her heart hammering.
"Why did you do that?" Jessi's eyes were cold, her lips trembling with both anger and betrayal.
Alena's throat went dry. She couldn't form words.
Jack's gaze swept over her, searching for some answer, some denial, but she gave none.
Jessi's voice broke. "We thought you got here because of talent. Because of your art. But no… it was your sugar daddy pulling strings." Her face twisted with disgust. "Women like you make me sick. Selling yourself for luxury. For privilege."
Tears welled beneath Alena's glasses. Her body stiffened, unable to defend herself, unable to even shake her head.
"And the worst part?" Jessi's voice cracked. "I trusted you. I thought you were my friend." Her expression hardened with hatred. "But you? You're nothing but a wh*re."
Alena flinched at the word, as if it had been carved into her skin.
Jessi stepped closer, her eyes burning. "How dare you lure my father? He's old enough to be your father. Did you not think of me even once?" Her words were sharp as poison, yet hurt. "You disgust me!"
And then Jessi spat at her feet. "If you still carry even a shred of shame, don't dare show your face to me again."
The world around Alena blurred. Her ears rang. Tears spilled silently down her cheeks as she stood rooted in place. Jack's voice was softer, but heavy with disappointment. "Why, Alena? We really loved you." he went on. "Whatever your relationship with Kieran, what you did with Jessi's father is unacceptable." With that, he turned and followed after Jessi.
Alena stood alone. Her chest caved in with the weight of shame. Her legs gave out, and she sank onto the pavement, laughter escaping her lips, broken, jagged laughter that quickly turned back into sobs. Her dreams, her friendships, her fragile hope, were shattered in an instant.
She stumbled aimlessly through the streets afterward, weaving past cars without noticing the horns blaring.
Just then, one of Kieran's guards spotted her at a signal. He immediately rushed to her side and restrained her gently, "Miss Alena, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be roaming like this, it's dangerous." He gently guided her back into the car. She didn't resist. Resistance seemed meaningless now.
Back at the farmhouse, she went straight to her room. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the cold water full force. The icy stream drenched her, but it couldn't numb the filth crawling over her skin. She scrubbed herself until her skin turned raw, red scratches blooming along her arms and shoulders. She slapped her cheeks again and again, her lips splitting. Her screams echoed off the tiles, but no one was there to hear.
When she finally stumbled out of the bathroom, she wrapped herself in a robe, her skin was red with scratches, her eye puffy, and her head pounded as though it were breaking into pieces from the continuous crying.. Her lip was bleeding from one side. She stared blankly at her canvas. With trembling hands, she picked up a brush and began to paint, violent strokes, harsh colors, each slash across the canvas like a wound. Pages tore as she scribbled furiously on paper after paper, the floor littered with drawings that looked more like cries for help than art.
By the time Kieran returned, the house was quiet, uneasy. A guard hesitated before approaching him, voice low with worry. "Boss… earlier today, I found Miss Alena wandering the streets alone. She looked… lost. I brought her back home. I thought of informing you earlier, but I couldn't."
Kieran's chest tightened. Panic coursed through him. Without another word, he hurried upstairs, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards.
He pushed open her door.
Alena sat hunched on the bed, her hair a wild curtain covering her face. The robe clung loosely to her damp body. Her hands gripped a pen, scratching it violently across a sketchbook page. Torn sheets were scattered everywhere, filled with distorted, chaotic images.
Kieran's heart twisted painfully. "Alena…" His voice was soft, tentative.
She didn't respond.
He stepped closer slowly, crouching beside her. "Alena." His hand touched her shoulder gently.
She snapped. With a sudden surge, she raised the pen like a weapon, slashing toward him.
Kieran caught her wrist firmly, eyes wide in shock. "Alena! It's me."
Her face lifted at last. Her eyes were bloodshot, lips split, cheeks raw with the marks of her own hands. She looked feral, cornered, trembling.
"Alena, what happened to you?" His voice broke, but before he could say more, she screamed and thrashed against his grip. He twisted her wrist gently but firmly, forcing her to drop the pen. She struggled wildly, her body shaking, desperate to break free.
"Stop, it's me, Alena. It's Kieran. I'm here." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She fought harder, she hit him, trying to free herself, but he held her hands firmly, pulling her into his embrace. She wriggled violently, like a trapped animal. As she felt helpless, she bit down on his shoulder with a strength born of agony. He clenched his jaw, enduring the sharp pain as her teeth sank into his flesh, breaking skin. Blood seeped into his shirt, but he didn't let go.
She bit harder, muffling her screams against him until finally her strength gave way. The fight drained from her body. Her teeth slipped from his shoulder, and she collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably.
His hand moved gently over her back, soothing, steady. "It's okay. I've got you." He pressed his lips against her hair. "Cry if you need to. I'm not going anywhere."
Her words broke through in broken gasps, each one shattering him further. "Kill me… please. I don't want to live anymore."
Kieran's heart stopped. He tightened his hold on her trembling frame, his own tears threatening to fall. He couldn't understand all the demons chasing her, but he knew one thing with certainty: he would fight every shadow, every ghost, every person who dared break her again.
"No, Alena," he whispered fiercely against her hair. "Don't you dare ask me that. I will never let you go."