Anastasia's head throbbed violently, as if struck by a hammer with every heartbeat. Pain surged through her body with each attempted movement—sharp, relentless, unbearable.
She fluttered her eyes open, slowly, painfully.
The room was dimly lit. The soft glow of bedside lamps cast long shadows across unfamiliar walls. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling—ornate, unfamiliar. This wasn't her room.
She tried to turn her body to the right, but her limbs refused to obey. Her body felt bolted to the bed, as if bound by invisible chains forged from titanium.
'Where am I? What's happening? What happened to me? Why can't I move?'
Her thoughts spiraled in panic, looping endlessly as she strained against the paralysis. Only her head responded—barely. Even that small movement felt like dragging stone through fire.
"Oh!..Oh, yes! Yes! Mmm.."
Sounds of someone moaning reached her ears. She shifted her head to the left side. Her stomach twisted in pain and disbelief at the sight that was before. It completely shattered her to pieces.
There on a chair a few steps away from the bed, the man that she loved was touching, kissing and fondling, her stepsister, Leticia. Who was vigorously moving against him whilst on his lap, half naked, enjoying how he was fondling and kissing her breasts.
As if sensing her gaze, Aaron paused mid-motion and turned toward Anastasia.
A slow, cruel smirk tugged at his lips.
He leaned in and whispered into Leticia's ear, "Looks like someone's awake."
Leticia turned, her eyes locking onto Anastasia's. She lay motionless, her gaze burning with fury and heartbreak. If she hadn't been drugged into paralysis, she would've reached for the sword in the display case next to them and sliced them to pieces.
Leticia smiled—mocking, triumphant.
She leaned in and kissed Aaron, deliberately, provocatively.
"Look at her," Leticia sneered, cupping Aaron's face and turning it toward Anastasia. "Throwing daggers at us with those pitiful eyes."
She chuckled darkly.
"Since she's already watching the show… why don't we make it worth her while? Let her truly savor the spectacle."
Aaron's smirk deepened. "I like that. A treat for her poor, virgin eyes. Let her die knowing exactly what she missed."
'You bastards! You monsters! I'll kill you. I'll drag you both to hell and feed your bodies to the pigs!'
Anastasia screamed in her mind, her fury thrashing against the drug's grip. Her tongue was heavy, her limbs useless. All she could do was glare—rage boiling behind her eyes.
Leticia laughed, the sound sharp and venomous.
"Look at her squirming in fury. Ha! Ha! Ha! Now we definitely have to make the show worth watching. Let her explode in fury. Ha! Ha!"
With that said, Leticia grabbed Aaron's face and started kissing him. Soon the room was filled with loud moans and heavy breathing as the two of them continued their dirty business.
Anastasia wanted to look away.
She wanted to shut her eyes, to block out the shameless spectacle unfolding before her.
But she didn't.
Not because she couldn't—but because she refused to.
She wanted to see it. To witness every vile detail. The way they shamelessly mocked her. To burn it into her memory so that when the time came, her revenge would be precise, merciless, and sweet.
Her fingers curled into fists, clutching the blankets with white-knuckled fury as she watched them—her man and her stepsister—entangled in the heat of betrayal.
Leticia was reveling in it.
This was everything she'd ever wanted: to be Aaron's woman, to claim him in front of the sister she'd always envied. She had coveted him for years, seething with resentment as Anastasia claimed the noble title, the love of a father which she never had, and the affection of the man she desired.
She had been mocked, humiliated—called a nobody, a shadow of the radiant and beautiful future heiress of the Sinclair family and the Duchess of Florence.
But tonight, she was the victor.
She was taking everything.
And she wanted Anastasia to watch.
To suffer.
To break.
Leticia smirked, her thoughts twisted with triumph as she moved against Aaron, basking in the cruelty of her conquest.
Then—
"AAAH!"
Leticia screamed as her hair was yanked violently, her body dragged away from Aaron.
Anastasia had gained strength to move from the bed. And with burning fury she stomped towards Leticia and pulled her by the hair and dragged her to the ground. Hitting her furiously.
Aaron froze, stunned.
'That drug was strong enough to even keep an elephant motionless for a long time. How did she...?'
"AAAH! Get off me, you crazy bitch!!—AAAH!" Leticia shrieked as Anastasia's fists crashed into her face.
Aaron snapped out of his shock and lunged forward. He grabbed Anastasia by the arm, slapped her hard across the face, and drove his fist into her stomach.
She cried out, her body folding inward as he hurled her back onto the bed.
She landed with a sickening thud, striking something hard.
Curled into herself, Anastasia clutched her stomach, gasping for breath. A metallic taste filled her mouth.
Blood.
A single drop slipped from the corner of her lips.
She wiped it away, trembling, her breath ragged.
But her eyes—her eyes still burned.
"Are you okay?" Aaron asked, helping Leticia to her feet.
Leticia whimpered, clutching his arm, nodding weakly.
Aaron steadied her, then turned back to Anastasia with fury blazing in his eyes. He grabbed her by the hair and struck her again—merciless slaps, fists to her stomach and chest.
"You crazy bitch! How dare you touch her! How dare you lay a hand on her!" he roared, hurling Anastasia to the floor.
She landed hard.
A sickening crack echoed as her left shoulder snapped out of place. She whimpered, her swollen face streaked with blood, her breath shallow and ragged.
Leticia sneered, stepping closer.
"You should've stayed motionless, stepsister. Then maybe you wouldn't be in this much pain. Ha! Too bad. Must be infuriating, huh? Watching the love of your life treat you like trash. Typical, naive Anastasia. This is exactly what you deserve—for being a rich, noble loser!"
Anastasia turned her gaze to Aaron, her eyes swimming with pain and fury.
"Why… whhhy…" she gasped, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
Aaron chuckled coldly.
"Isn't it obvious?" He leaned in, voice dripping with contempt. "I'm doing this for the power."
He straightened, pacing slowly.
"Florence is the kingdom's gold mine. At first, I was willing to play along with this shenanigan of a marriage and be the dutiful husband. Hell, It's what we were raised to believe, right? That we were destined. We were meant for each other. But then I realized… this marriage wasn't going to benefit me. Why should you always be in control? Why should I be the puppet prince, the pussy—married to the rich girl just to keep his bloody fief afloat and in power?
We've been labeled social climbers since my family came into power. Cowards. Parasites. Pussies! But not anymore.
This time, I take control. Florence and Fortshire—both will be mine."
He paused, eyes gleaming.
"At first, I thought I could convince you to sign the handover papers for me to rule your Duchy as well. Since you were so madly in love, so naïve. But then I realized… if I did that, people would call me weak. A bigger pussy. At first I couldn't find an ideal plan to make it work."
He turned to Leticia and grabbed her behind possessively.
"Until I found...a beautiful partner. Scheming. Cunning. Deliciously ambitious. Her heart beats in sync with mine. Together, we crafted the perfect plan: marry you, wait for your coronation, then… eliminate you.
As your husband, the rulership falls to me after your death. And my beauty here...will finally get rid of the pest that's haunted her life. As a bonus, the Blue Diamond Roses will be ours. And we'll live in unending wealth."
Anastasia snorted, blood staining her lips.
"Keep dreaming. You'll never get what you want. Even if you kill me."
Aaron smirked.
"Oh, I beg to differ, darling. We already have the keys to the vault. Both are accounted for. You're the only one left outside the bunch."
Anastasia's face paled.
'How does he know?'
Aaron leaned in, voice low and cruel.
"Surprised I know the secret? That only someone from the Sinclair bloodline can access the cave? I came prepared. Infact we all came prepared." He laughed darkly.
Anastasia's mind spiraled.
She could see their faces—Miranda, Nathaniel, Gabriella, Vincent, Duke Andrew, Duchess Catherine—all of them laughing at her. Mocking her as she was being crowned Duchess of Florence.
It was a scheme.
It was a horrid plan all along.
To take her down.
To destroy her.
Oh, how anger boiled like magma inside of her. Her chest heaved, heaved with rage. Her fingers clawing inside the carpet with fury.
They will pay.
Aaron smirked, watching Anastasia tremble with rage.
But then—he felt it.
A chill.
Cold and sharp, that was slicing through his veins.
It crawled down his spine like icy fingers. He looked at his hands and gasped—they were turning blue. Frost bloomed across his skin like veins of ice.
Panicked, he turned toward Anastasia.
She was rising.
Her eyes glowed an eerie blue, her fiery red hair shifting—strand by strand—into the same spectral hue.
Aaron took a step back, his breath catching.
"What the hell..." He stammered.
Anastasia roared.
The sound was inhuman—raw, guttural, ancient. It echoed through the room like thunder in a tomb.
She sprang forward, fury incarnate, ready to tear them apart.
But before she could reach them—
CRACK.
Something heavy struck her head.
She collapsed.
Her vision blurred, swimming in pain and confusion. Through the haze, she saw Miranda standing over her, a baseball bat gripped tightly in her hands.
"I was wondering what was taking so long," Miranda snapped. "You two were busy fucking each other and tormenting her? How stupid. How childish. Now hurry up—they're almost here. We need to leave. Immediately."
Her voice warped in Anastasia's ears, distorted like a broken record. She saw Miranda glance down at her with cold disdain before grabbing Leticia's hand and dragging her out of the room.
Miranda… Leticia… Aaron…
Miranda… Leticia… Aaron…
I will never forget this.
I will never forget this.
I swear… I will kill you. Even if I have to be a ghost to do it … I will seek revenge.
The vow echoed in her mind as darkness swallowed her.
Aaron lingered.
He stared at Anastasia's unconscious form, trying to make sense of what he'd just witnessed.
The glowing eyes. The blue hair. The roar. The frost.
'What the hell was that?'
He looked again.
Her hair had returned to its fiery red. Her skin was warm. Her body still.
He blinked, wondering if it had all been a hallucination.
After a long moment, he turned and walked out of the room.
.....
AAAAH!
The scream jolted Anastasia from unconsciousness.
Her eyes snapped open.
A maid stood frozen at the doorway, staring at her with wide-eyed horror.
Anastasia blinked, disoriented. Why is she looking at me like that? She had expected the bastards to kill her… or lock her in the old dungeon and torture her more. But she hadn't imagined this.
The bastards had planned a worse fate for her.
She turned her head—slowly, painfully—toward whatever had stolen the maid's voice.
Her breath caught.
Her hands were drenched in blood.
Beside her lay a dagger—its hilt coated in blue and gold, the Blue Diamond Rose carved into its center. The sheets were soaked in crimson, the bed a canvas of violence.
With trembling fingers and a shaky breath, Anastasia shifted her gaze to the figure lying beside her.
Haaa…
Anastasia felt her life draining out of her the moment she saw the figure's face.
There, in a pool of blood, lay Grandma Felistus.
Her eyes were wide with shock, frozen in her final moment. Her chest and belly were torn open by vicious stabs—gory, deliberate, as if someone had tried to rip her apart.
"No. No. Nooooo… Nooo… Grandma! Nooo… Nooo…! Grandma! Noooo..!"
Anastasia wailed, her cries raw and broken, echoing through the halls of the Sinclair mansion.
She screamed until her voice gave out.
Until her grief collapsed into silence.
....
Bang. Bang.
"The court finds Lady Anastasia Roseline Sinclair guilty of murder. For the cold-blooded slaying of her own relative, she is hereby sentenced to die the most excruciating death.
A hundred cuts to the body.
She shall be discarded in the Plains of Misery—where the wickedest of criminals are left to be devoured by the beasts of the forest.
May the Heavens have mercy on her soul."
Bang!
The judge's gavel struck like thunder, sealing Anastasia's fate.
A death by a hundred cuts.
A forgotten forest.
A cursed battlefield
A brutal end.
To the world, Anastasia's story had ended.
But in truth…
It was only the beginning.
***************
Spoiler alert!!!
"I am not a demon...no." the voice echoed softly.
"I like to think of myself as the devil's incarnate. My soul was molded both in fire and ice. My life has never ceased to bethrilling and full of adventures. Grizzly adventures." Said Daniel in a low, smooth, chilling voice that prickled the skin.
His eyes were half-lidded, glowing like drops of honey in the candlelight.
He sat on a high-backed chair, legs crossed, wearing black slacks and an unbuttoned shirt that revealed a sculpted torso—eight glistening muscles catching the dim light like polished marble. Wet, wavy brown hair clung to his forehead, framing thick brows like damp silk. Water droplets shimmered on his sharp nose. His plush lips held a rosy hue.
He looked like a Greek god,seating lazily on his throne, lethal, and utterly untouchable.
He then lifted his eyes. His look a mixture of seduction and danger. A slight smirk curling on his lips.
"Don't try to get too close to me, Red. Or I'll burn and ice you at the same until you're addicted to pleasure and can't get enough of it." He chuckled softly.
"Curious....then why don't you step a little closer....and find out." His smirk grew wider and his eyes glowed with mischief.
Ready for more?