CONTENT WARNING: This chapter may contain scenes of violence that may be disturbing to some readers. Please Proceed with caution
~ Cassie ~
"Anthony," I begged softly. My voice was a ragged thing, barely holding together. "Please. Why are you with her? Why are you letting her do this?"
He did not answer. He did not even look at me. He remained as still as a statue, his gaze fixed on some invisible point on the far wall, as if looking at me would shatter the fragile glass of his own composure.
Miranda laughed for him. The sound was light and cruel, echoing off the low ceiling like a taunt. "Oh, Cassie. Sweet, naive Cassie. Did you really think Anthony loved you? Did you truly believe the boy who folded paper flowers and promised you forever was real?"
She reached out and patted his cheek. He flinched at her touch, a sharp, involuntary twitch of his jaw, but he did not pull away.
"Anthony needs direction," she said calmly, her voice full of a terrifying, maternal authority. "He needs someone to tell him what to fear. Someone to tell him who to trust and who to obey. And he obeys me. He has always belonged to me, Cassie. You were just a temporary assignment."
Something inside me shattered. Not loudly, but completely. The soundless kind of destruction that leaves nothing worth salvaging.
"I told him stories," Miranda continued, her eyes bright with the thrill of the reveal. "Beautiful, intricate stories. I made you believe he was gentle so you would fall exactly where I needed you to. I wanted your heart to open up completely so that your heartbreak would be slow and exquisite."
My breath hitched as understanding settled like poison in my veins.
So that was why.
The stories she had told me about his tragic past, the constant praise she heaped upon his character, and the careful, subtle nudges she used to push us together were all part of the design.
Anthony had never been mine. He had been a blade placed carefully in my path, disguised as a gift.
Miranda snapped her fingers. The sharp crack echoed off the walls.
"Begin."
Two masked men emerged from the shadows. My body reacted before my mind did. I scrambled backward, palms scraping against the freezing concrete.
"Miranda, please," I cried. "Wait. Please. We can talk."
"Oh, hush," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "You talk far too much for someone with no power."
Rough hands grabbed me. One clamped around my arm hard enough to bruise the muscle instantly. Another seized my jaw, his fingers digging into the bone and forcing my head up so I had no choice but to look at her.
Miranda tilted her head, studying me like a painting.
"You always believed kindness would save you," she said. "That the world rewards soft hearts."
Her smile vanished.
"It does not. Obedience saves you. Fear keeps you breathing."
She stepped back.
"And you are going to learn fear."
The first blow struck my ribs. The sound echoed and pain ripped through my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. I gasped, choking on breath that tasted like iron.
The second hit my temple. White light burst across my vision.
"Stop!" I screamed. "Please stop!"
Miranda folded her arms, unbothered.
"Again."
They came in waves. Controlled. Relentless. Each strike peeled another piece of me away.
My stomach burned as boots connected again and again. My wrists screamed as they were twisted beyond mercy. Something cold dragged across my back before heat followed, searing and unbearable.
They forced me to my knees until skin split and blood soaked the floor. Slaps rang through my head until the world fractured and spun.
Time lost meaning. My screams dissolved into broken sounds, something animal and unrecognizable. Blood pooled beneath me. Tears blurred everything. Every heartbeat sent agony rippling through my body.
Eventually, I stopped begging. Words became useless. Breathing was all I had left.
At some point, Miranda raised her hand.
"That will do for today."
I collapsed, my body giving up all at once. Each breath felt like climbing out of a grave.
She knelt beside me, dragging a finger down my cheek and smearing blood across my skin.
"You still do not understand," she murmured.
I tried to inhale without screaming.
"You were meant to disappear years ago," she continued softly. "Erased completely. But you survived. You were stubborn. Protected. He said your weaknesses would surface eventually. And he was right."
"He?" I croaked. "Who is he?"
She smiled.
"A brilliant man. A powerful man. And very invested in making sure the real Lin heiress never rises."
Cold spread through my veins.
"Do not think too hard," she said lightly. "You will not live long enough for answers."
"I trusted you," I whispered.
For a fraction of a second, something flickered in her eyes. Not remorse. Resentment, deep and endless.
"Exactly," she replied. "That is why you are here."
She stood.
"Clean her up. Tomorrow we continue."
They dragged me into a corner like a bag of refuse. My limbs trailed uselessly behind me. Anthony followed her toward the exit, but at the door, he paused.
His eyes were red. Haunted. Afraid.
Then he left.
The door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed me whole.
Time dissolved after that. Pain became my only measure. My body was a map of suffering. Bruises, burns, cuts. I prayed silently for rescue, for mercy, for anyone.
The bunker answered with silence.
When the lights flickered on again and Miranda stepped inside, I knew.
Today, I was going to die.