Chapter 1
For six years, I lived like a joke—a hidden wife kept in the dark.
Meanwhile, Rio Beasley placed his golden girl on a pedestal, turning her into the brightest star in the entertainment industry. His Instagram was flooded with their sweet moments, their love story played out for the world to see. Every post, every picture, every doting caption felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest.
Another day of being pampered by Mr. Beasley.
Bethany Arterton had the audacity to send me a private video, her voice dripping with mockery.
“You're nothing more than a watchdog he keeps at home, Hazel. A dog he can kick away whenever he pleases.”
I confronted Rio, hoping—praying—he’d put an end to it. But all I ever got from him was a dismissive shrug.
“Beth is just a friend. Don’t overthink things.”
Friend. That’s what he always called her, no matter how many times he abandoned me for her. And then one day, Bethany orchestrated something far more sinister. She arranged for both of us to be kidnapped at the same time.
Tied up in a filthy basement, I cried and screamed for Rio to save me. But when he arrived, his eyes filled with nothing but disdain. Without hesitation, he rushed to untie Bethany, leaving me behind like I was nothing.
“This was your plan wasn’t it?” he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. “You staged this whole kidnapping just to make me feel sorry for you.”
He scoffed. “I know exactly what you are, Hazel--a manipulator with a system, twisting everything to make men fall for you.”
Then, without sparing me a second glance, he ordered, “Let Bethany go. I don’t give a damn whether she lives or dies.”
A broken laugh escaped my lips. He had no idea—no idea that the system he accused me of having had vanished long ago. The day I risked my life in that racing accident to save his.
The next thing I knew, a blade plunged into my chest, the pain searing through me like fire. As darkness closed in, a familiar voice echoed in my mind:
[System alert: The host meets the conditions for resurrection. Do you choose to revive? The cost: complete erasure of all love for Rio Beasley.]
——
The day of the GT Grand Prix finals had arrived. If Rio won today, he would secure the championship title for the sixth consecutive year.
I stood amidst the roaring crowd, my heart pounding. He had promised—sworn—that once he won the championship, he would finally acknowledge me. That he would no longer keep me a secret.
The stadium erupted as Rio’s car crossed the finish line first. The victory lights flashed and for a moment, I could almost see it—him walking toward me, holding out the championship trophy, his eyes filled with love as he declared to the world, “She’s my wife.”
After six years of hiding, I would finally step into the light.
Overcome with emotion, I took a step forward, ready to embrace him, to celebrate the dream we had built together.
But he shoved me away.
“Hazel,” he hissed, his expression darkening. “What are you doing here? I told you not to show up at events like this.”
My breath hitched.
“There are people watching! Do you have any idea what this could do to my reputation?”
The cheers and flashing cameras blurred as I fought to keep my composure, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
“Rio,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You promised. You said if you won the championship, you would finally acknowledge me.”
His brows furrowed, irritation flickering across his face as he glanced around, his mind already strategizing damage control. Before he could respond, the reporters swarmed him, their voices overlapping.
“Mr. Beasley, how does it feel to win six consecutive titles?”
“Mr. Beasley, what’s your secret to maintaining peak performance?”
“Mr. Beasley, what are your future plans?”
Before he could answer, a small, delicate figure darted toward him and threw her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Rio,” she squealed, clinging to him like a trophy wife. “You did it! I knew you would! You’re amazing!”
Bethany Arterton—top-tier actress, media darling and Rio’s golden canary.
She was dressed in a form-fitting dress, her flawless skin glowing under the stadium lights as she nestled into his arms, basking in the spotlight.
Rio chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately before turning to the cameras with a beaming smile.
“I wouldn’t be here without Bethany’s unwavering support,” he declared. “She has been by my side through everything. Especially during my lowest moments.”
Then he turned to me. And for the briefest second, his expression twisted with cold amusement.
“Not like some people who only cling to me like a bloodsucker.”
I stood frozen as the world around me spun. A bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest. This had to be a joke.
Chapter 2
Lowest moments?
The so-called “darkest time of his life” was three years ago—the day his car malfunctioned mid-race, the brakes failing as he hurtled toward the barriers, inches from death.
I was the one who ran onto the track, throwing caution to the wind to drag him from the burning wreckage.
The flames had licked at my skin, searing my arms and back, leaving me with scars he never even acknowledged.
When he woke up in the hospital, he recovered quickly, as if the accident had been nothing more than a bad dream. He forgot many things—but not Bethany. Never her.
Meanwhile, I spent three months in a hospital bed, enduring the agony of skin grafts, surgeries and relentless pain.
And as I healed, Rio grew colder.
Support? Devotion? Never leaving his side? How could he stand there and say those words with a straight face?
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I stared at him, desperate to see a flicker of guilt, a trace of regret, any sign that he once loved me.
But his eyes held none of that. Only Bethany. Only the cameras. Only the glory.
As the press conference ended, Rio and Bethany made their way toward the parking lot. My legs moved before my mind could stop them and I ran after him, my voice breaking as I called out:
“Rio, stop! We need to talk. You owe me an explanation!”
But he didn’t even glance back.
Instead, he strode up to a sleek, cherry-red sports car, holding the door open like a perfect gentleman as Bethany slid inside, shooting me a smug look before she adjusted her sunglasses.
Rio smirked, got in and slammed the door shut. The engine roared to life and without hesitation, he sped off, leaving me standing there like a fool.
I stumbled back, my vision blurring. My body trembled from the cold—or maybe from the weight of betrayal crushing down on me.
A passing event staff member hurried over, helping me up and asking if I was okay. I forced a weak nod, murmuring a quick thank you before they let me stand on my own.
My heart ached, sharp and relentless, like a thousand tiny needles piercing through it.
I pulled out my phone, my fingers shaking as I dialed Rio’s number. I had to ask him why—why he was doing this to me.
It rang once. Twice.
Then—
“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”
He had shut me out. Completely.
Like a ghost, I drifted back home. The mansion that once felt warm now stood eerily silent. The massive wedding portrait hanging on the wall mocked me, frozen in time—a reminder of my foolishness.
Six years. Over two thousand days and nights. I had given him everything—my love, my devotion, my dreams. I had sacrificed my career, my ambitions, my very identity for a marriage that never truly existed.
He had promised me a grand wedding. The kind every woman dreamed of. Six years later and that promise had become nothing more than an illusion—dangling just out of reach, shattering time and time again.
“Let’s keep our marriage a secret. Going public would hurt my career right now.”
“Hazel, I swear, once I win the championship, I’ll make our relationship official.”
“Just be patient, okay? Beth is my business partner now—I have to consider her feelings.”
Lie after lie, each one slithering around me like a venomous snake, squeezing the life out of me.
I had reduced myself to nothing more than a shadow, a servant in my own home—walking on eggshells around the man who was supposed to be my husband, terrified of displeasing him.
I didn’t even dare to bring up the words "go public" because every time I did, he would explode—calling me ungrateful, childish, an embarrassment to him.
Again and again, I told myself that Rio loved me. That he was just busy, just stressed, just waiting for the right time. That once he won the championship, everything would change.
Like a drowning woman, I clung to that fragile thread of hope, desperately fighting to stay afloat.
I thought that if I just held on a little longer, if I just gave him everything, he would finally see my worth. That he would cherish me.
Chapter 3
But today, I finally understood. I was wrong.
So terribly, laughably wrong.
“Ahhh!”
A primal scream tore from my throat as I started hurling things across the room. Crystal ornaments, limited-edition figurines, designer handbags—nothing was spared from my wrath. When exhaustion finally stole the strength from my limbs, I collapsed in the corner, curled up like a wounded beast, licking my wounds with no solace in sight.
The special notification on my phone blinked.
It was Rio.
“Not coming home tonight. Beth isn’t feeling well. Staying with her.”
Beth. Bethany. Again and again. Her name was a thorn lodged deep in my heart, twisting cruelly with every breath I took.
For six years, I lived like a ghost in the shadows of our marriage—hidden, silenced, erased. While I was forced to be invisible, he paraded Bethany like a trophy, showering her with resources and attention, making sure the whole world knew just how much he cherished her.
Every year, on his birthday, on our anniversary, even on my own birthday, he was never there.
His excuses varied, but the result was always the same. The one left behind was always me. The one by his side was always Bethany.
Last year, he had promised to spend my birthday with me. But at the last moment, Bethany twisted her ankle and he left without a second thought, not sparing me so much as a glance.
I sat alone, staring at my cold birthday cake, tears blurring the candle flames. The next day, the tabloids were ablaze with pictures of Rio celebrating Bethany’s birthday. They stood close, their smiles bright, the very picture of intimacy.
And me? I was nothing but a joke. A court jester foolishly waiting for a king who never spared her a second look.
I had once confronted him, demanded to know why he always chose Bethany over me.
His answer had been dismissive, as if my pain was an inconvenience.
“Bethany is my business partner. I have to take care of her. You, on the other hand, are my wife. You should understand me. Support me.”
I should understand him?
I suddenly felt exhausted—bone-deep, soul-crushing exhaustion.
Six years. Six years of lies, of betrayal, of bending over backward for a love that had never been real.
With trembling hands, I typed out a message.
[Let’s get a divorce.]
The moment I pressed send, my heart stilled. For the first time in six years, I felt peace. Minutes passed. No reply. I let out a bitter laugh.
Of course. Right now, he was busy tending to his "business partner." Why would he waste time on his invisible wife?
In the VIP room of an exclusive nightclub, deafening music pulsed through the air, champagne bubbling over crystal glasses as dazzling lights cast an intoxicating glow over the revelry.
Rio lounged back, a smug grin on his face, an arm draped possessively around Bethany’s slender waist as she giggled at something he whispered in her ear.
“Rio, you’re amazing! Another championship title under your belt!” Bethany gushed, clinking her glass against his.
Rio laughed, basking in the adoration of his team and the sycophants surrounding him.
“Of course! Who do you think I am?”
His teammate Glen elbowed him playfully, waggling his eyebrows.
“Hey, man, where’s your wife? Shouldn’t she be here celebrating with you? Six years of hiding her away—isn’t it time to let her breathe?”
A round of jeers and whistles erupted from the crowd.
“Yeah, dump the old ball and chain already! Marry our lovely Bethany instead! We’ll even chip in for the wedding!”
“Hahaha, Rio, don’t tell me you’re bored with her and looking for fresh meat?”
Chapter 4
Drunk on victory and liquor, Rio tightened his grip on Bethany, his laughter loud and unrestrained. “She’s been clinging to me for six years like a dog, wagging her tail for a scrap of attention. It’s pathetic.”
Bethany pouted playfully, mischief glinting in her eyes. “If she finds out you're spending the night with me, what will you do? Think she’ll throw a fit?”
Rio scoffed, his expression darkening with contempt. “She wouldn’t dare. Marrying me is the best thing that ever happened to her. If she tries to cause trouble, I’ll make sure she’s blacklisted from the entertainment industry.”
Bethany giggled, trailing her fingers down his chest. “I adore you,” she purred before pressing her lips to his in a slow, sultry kiss.
The noise of the private lounge drowned out the faint vibration of Rio’s phone.
He didn’t notice it. He didn’t care.
Later that night, Bethany carefully selected a photo. In it, she nestled against Rio’s side like a delicate bird, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. In his other hand, he held up a glass of champagne, his face alight with smug victory.
The rest of his team surrounded them, grinning and cheering, celebrating his latest championship win. The energy of the moment was electric.
The caption read: “Celebrating another winning of R. So proud of you!”
The moment she posted it, the internet erupted.
“Rio and Bethany look so perfect together. When’s the official announcement?”
“OMG! The way he looks at her—I’m swooning!”
“I knew it! There’s no way these two weren’t secretly together!”
Bethany smirked at the flood of comments, replying with a coy emoji before tagging Rio’s account. Within seconds, his like appeared.
By morning, every major gossip site had splashed their faces across their front pages.
[Racing champion Rio Beasley caught in late-night rendezvous with rising star Bethany—romance confirmed?]
[Speculation ends: Beasley and Arterton’s intimate celebration ignites dating rumors!]
The comment sections buzzed with excitement, some offering congratulations, others spewing outrage and many simply there for the drama.
The harsh morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, piercing through Rio’s pounding hangover. Groaning, he massaged his temples, but the warmth of the woman beside him made up for his discomfort.
Leaning over, he pressed a lazy kiss to Bethany’s forehead before grabbing his phone to check the time.
A single message from me popped up on the screen: [Let’s get divorce.]
He barely spared it a glance, assuming it was another one of my tantrums. Six years together and I had pulled every trick in the book to keep his attention—why would this time be any different?
Bethany stirred, stretching her toned arms before wrapping them around his neck. “Who sends message this early? They’re ruining my beauty sleep.”
Rio’s fingers lazily traced circles on her bare back. “Just insignificant block with too much time on their hands.”
By noon, he returned to the villa, expecting to find me sulking like always. Instead, I was neatly folding my clothes, placing them carefully into a suitcase.
He stopped cold. The haze of alcohol finally lifted, replaced by something sharper—confusion and a faint irritation.
“What are you doing?” I didn’t look up. My voice was steady, emotionless. “I’ve drafted the divorce papers. If you have no objections, sign them.”
My words hit him like a detonated landmine.
In an instant, he closed the distance between us, ripping the clothes from my hands and throwing them to the floor.
“Divorce?” His voice was low, dangerous. “What kind of stunt are you pulling now? Don’t play games with me.”
Chapter 5
I lifted my head, meeting his bloodshot eyes with a cold, mocking smile.
“Six years, Rio. Six years. I gave up my career for you. I cooked for you, bent over backward to please your family and friends. And after everything, you still never truly saw me. You think I’m playing a game?”
My voice wasn’t loud, but every word cut like a blade, sinking deep into his heart.
He froze, as if seeing me clearly for the first time, a flicker of panic flashing in his eyes.
“Hazel, I—”
“Tell me, Rio. Have you ever, even once, loved me? Did you ever care about me at all?”
His face paled. His lips parted, but no words came out.
“That’s what I thought.” I bent down, calmly picking up the clothes he had tossed aside. I folded them neatly and placed them back into my suitcase.
“Saw the latest headlines about you and Bethany. Congratulations. You’re finally free of me. Now you can chase after your true love.”
I struggled, but his grip was ironclad, trapping me in his arms. A sharp pain shot through my lip as I tasted blood—he had bitten me. The sting jolted me back to reality, filling me with revulsion.
This wasn’t love. It was hate. Possession. Unwillingness to let go.
“Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing against him, but Rio only pressed closer. His breath was hot against my skin, thick with the stench of alcohol and Bethany’s perfume—the one she always wore.
“Drop the act,” he murmured, his grip tightening. “You spent six years trying to please me. Now, I’ll give you what you want."
A sharp pain shot through me, but the ache in my heart was far worse.
Six years. I gave him everything. And this was what I got in return.
“Rio,” I choked out, my voice hoarse, “you disgust me.”
When it was over, the room was a mess.
Rio stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at me, his face unreadable. Silence stretched between us before he finally turned away. I heard the sound of running water. Then, without a word, he returned and scooped me up.
“Let me clean you up,” he said, his voice low, devoid of emotion.
I turned my face away, refusing to meet his eyes, refusing to acknowledge his touch.
“Fuck off.”
He ignored me. I was too drained to fight him. My body was numb, my mind empty. Warm water cascaded over my skin, but it couldn’t wash away the filth, the disgust that had seeped into my bones.
“Does it hurt?” His voice was softer now, almost careful. “I’m sorry if I was too rough. I drank too much last night.”
I shut my eyes. Hurt? Nothing could hurt more than realizing my heart had died.
Memories of the man he used to be flickered through my mind like a cruel, broken film reel.
Five years ago, Rio was gentle, considerate. He used to wake up early to make me breakfast, hold me close every night before we fell asleep.
He remembered my favorite flowers, planned surprises for my birthday. When work stressed me out, he would comfort me, encourage me. When I was sick, he never left my side. Back then, I thought I had found the man I would grow old with. I gave up my rising career for him, devoted myself to being the perfect wife, managing everything for him.
Chapter 6
I even learned how to cook for him, how to please his family and friends. I thought my dedication would eventually earn his love and appreciation. I was wrong.
The moment Bethany appeared, all my sacrifices became a joke. He looked at her with a love and tenderness he never once gave me. He bought her expensive jewelry, threw lavish birthday parties for her, did all the romantic things I once dreamed of. Meanwhile, I became invisible.
He grew distant. Cold. Indifferent. He forgot my birthday. Forgot my favorite things. Forgot the promises he once made to me.
“Hazel, I will love you forever. Only you. I’ll never let you go.”
After what happened that night, Rio assumed I would act like I always did—swallow my pain, endure his temper, pretend nothing had happened. Maybe he thought a warm bath could wash away my humiliation, could cleanse him of his sins.
He was wrong. Some things, once shattered, could never be pieced back together.
His phone rang, slicing through the stillness. The name on the screen blinked. Beth.
Without hesitation, he answered, his voice shifting to gentle and affectionate, the complete opposite of the man who had just shredded me with his words.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?”
Bethany’s sugary voice poured through the speaker, laced with a childish whine, “What are you doing?”
“I’m just finishing something up, baby.”
“I miss you.”
“You miss me? Well, I miss you too.” Rio chuckled, his tone dripping with indulgence. “What do you want to eat? I’ll grab it on the way.” He didn’t even try to hide it. He flirted with her as though I wasn’t there, as though I didn’t exist.
I closed my eyes, sucking in a sharp breath, trying my hardest not to gag.
Then it hit me—the deafening crack of my heart breaking. My eyes snapped open as something rose in my throat. I sat up straight and gagged.
“What now?” he snapped, irritated.
“I feel sick,” I wiped my mouth, glaring at him. “I feel sick just looking at you,” I added coldly.
He didn’t care. He didn’t care about the dry heaving or the hatred in my eyes. As he buttoned his shirt, he shot me a condescending glance.
“Oh, please.” I could practically hear the eye roll in his voice. “If you were so miserable, why didn’t you say anything? Are you trying to put on a show? Gosh, you’re as dramatic as ever.”
He grabbed his coat and made for the door, pausing for a second before adding, without turning around, “And don’t even bring up divorce again. It’s getting old.”
The moment the door slammed shut, I rushed to the sink, gagging violently. My stomach twisted in agony as I vomited until there was nothing left.
“Rio, you shameless man!.” My voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto my face before lifting my gaze to the mirror.
Pale. Haggard. Broken. The woman staring back at me was a ghost of who I used to be. I let out a bitter laugh. Was this really me?
For days, I had been plagued by nausea, unable to keep anything down. At first, I thought it was just the sheer disgust from everything Rio and Bethany had done to me. But as I lowered my gaze, dread pooled in my stomach.
Two red lines. Stark. Unmistakable.
I was pregnant. With Rio’s child.
Isn’t that just the cruelest kind of irony? The moment I finally decided to walk away from this marriage, life threw this at me.
Should I get rid of it? My fingers tightened around the small plastic device, my mind spinning. My hand instinctively went to my stomach, where a fragile life—my flesh and blood—was beginning to grow. But I couldn’t imagine raising this child in a home without a father.
Chapter 7
There was no way I’d tell Rio. He’d just see it as another one of my schemes, another trick to trap him. Fine. If he could be heartless, then I could be ruthless.
The surgery was scheduled for seven days later.
For the next few days, I drifted through life like a ghost, mechanically going through the motions—work, eat and sleep—trying to numb my heart. But my dreams betrayed me.
At night, I’d see Rio. He’d hold me gently, his hands caressing my stomach, his eyes filled with love. He’d whisper that he would take care of me and the baby, promising me the happiness I had always longed for. I would smile, but as the dream unfolded, tears would slip from my eyes.
And then I would wake up. My pillow would be soaked. It had all been a dream. But the pain was real—sharp, gut-wrenching, inescapable.
Reality was crueler than any nightmare.
Rio never came back. He was still with Bethany, plastered all over the tabloids, flaunting their love for the whole world to see.
On my phone screen, Bethany’s heavily made-up face loomed large, curled up in Rio’s arms, posing for the camera. A message followed.
“Hazel, did you see this? This is your husband. Look how much he loves me. He can’t get enough of me.”
He taunt continued, “You’re nothing but his pet. A dog he can kick aside whenever he pleases. Woof woof, are you wagging your tail yet?”
Then came Rio’s low chuckle in the video. His fingers pinched Bethany’s cheek.
“Don’t be so mean, baby. She’s served me for years and…”
His words trailed off, but that sneering tone—more venomous than any curse—made me sick to my stomach.
I stared at the screen, feeling my stomach churn, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t throw up. I’d already been vomiting bile for days. I threw away everything that reminded me of Rio over the last six years—photos, gifts, clothes—nothing was left.
Bethany, you won. You succeeded in making me sick, in making me utterly lose faith in this marriage, in this man.
Dragging my tired body home, I had hoped for some semblance of comfort from my family. Even just a simple greeting would have sufficed. But instead, I was met with a barrage of harsh words.
“Look at you! You’re way too old to still be acting like a child!”
My mother’s sharp voice pierced the air, each word a knife twisting into my already shattered heart.
“Rio has everything. Why didn’t you just appreciate him? Why should you go for divorce? Have you lost your mind?”
I gave a bitter smile. In their eyes, Rio’s good qualities mattered more than my happiness.
Their so-called concern was nothing but fear of losing their cash cow.
“He cheated on me,” I said it weakly, my voice hoarse.
“Men fool around all the time. What rich man doesn’t have a mistress? Just turn a blind eye and move on!”
My little brother Nate, who lived off my support, now had the nerve to lecture me, “You really are out of your mind. As long as he’s giving you money, who cares what he does? You’re lucky he even married you!”
I looked at their greedy faces and suddenly, I felt so tired, so drained.
Family, it turns out, wasn’t much of a sanctuary when money was involved.
I always thought home was supposed to be a refuge, a safe place.
But now, I realized there was no escape.
The day before my surgery, Rio asked to meet. He wanted to talk about the divorce papers. I thought, maybe, just maybe, he had finally come to his senses. Maybe he felt a shred of guilt, a hint of pity. But when I opened the door, it wasn’t Rio. It was Bethany, all decked out in thick makeup and a glaring red dress.
“You didn’t really think Rio would divorce you, did you, Hazel? He’s just playing you,” she sneered, her voice dripping with mockery.
Chapter 8
Bethany eyed me from head to toe, her face twisted in disgust. “Have you looked in a mirror? Jeez, I’ve never seen a woman as pathetic as you. You’re so pale and thin, you don’t even look human. No wonder he can’t stand you. No man would.”
I struggled to keep my composure, my stomach churning with revulsion. “Where’s Rio?”
Bethany’s laugh cut through the air. “You really thought Rio would show up?” she scoffed. “I was the one who sent those texts, dummy. Didn’t think you’d actually fall for it. Oh my god, you’re so dumb it’s hilarious.”
Before I even registered what I was doing, my hand moved on its own. A sharp crack echoed through the room, followed by the sting in my palm.
Bethany staggered back, her eyes blazing with disbelief. “You… you dare slap me?” she hissed.
I met her glare with a cold, cutting laugh. “Yeah, I did, Bethany. And let me make one thing clear—I’m not someone you can push around.”
“I let you get away with things for the sake of keeping the peace with Rio. But now? I don’t give a damn anymore and I won’t just stand by while you pull your crap.”
I turned on my heel, ready to walk away, my head pounding with frustration.
But before I could take a step, the door burst open with a deafening crash. Two towering men stormed in, grabbing me—one on each side—locking me in a vice-like grip.
“What’s wrong? Thought you were tough?” Bethany sneered, stepping closer. “Not so tough now, huh?”
Her voice dripped with venom as she smirked. “You’re about to find out what happens when you cross me.”
She dug into her bag and pulled out a handkerchief and the moment she waved it in the air, a sickly sweet, cloying odor filled the room. My body froze in recognition. I knew what it was and my pulse spiked with panic. I fought against their grip, desperate to get away, but it was too late.
The cloth was pressed against my nose and mouth, the chemical smell overwhelming. My world spun, my vision blurred and everything faded to black.
I was waking up in a dimly lit, rundown warehouse. My wrists were bound to a rough wooden post, the rope digging into my skin, burning and tight. The sharp sting of the ropes was the first thing I felt as I struggled to clear my groggy head.
“Well, well, look who’s awake,” came Bethany’s voice, cold and mocking.
I blinked, trying to focus. And then, I saw her—Bethany, also tied up on a nearby post. Her smirk was still present, but there was something else too—triumph.
Before I could make sense of my surroundings, the door to the warehouse swung open with a loud creak. Two men entered, each holding a whip. Their eyes hungry with malicious intent.
Bethany’s face lit up with a twisted sort of satisfaction as she saw them. “Rio just got the words,” she said, her voice dripping with triumph. “You two have fun with this cheap woman. Make sure she knows her place.”
My heart sank as the realization hit me: this entire situation, this kidnapping, was orchestrated by Bethany. She had staged this whole thing, playing everyone in her cruel little game. But for what? To humiliate me? To break me? To destroy everything I had left?
I could feel my insides turn, a wave of nausea crashing over me as I saw the glee in Bethany's eyes. She was enjoying this—every second of it.
“Don't come any closer,” I whispered, my voice shaking, weak from the drugs and the pain. The rope around my wrists was cutting into me and I could barely hold on to consciousness.
But the men paid no attention. They walked toward me. One of them reached out, grabbing at my clothes with hands that made my skin crawl.
In a flash of pure instinct, I jerked my head to the side, biting down on his hand as hard as I could. Blood spurted from the wound and he screamed, pulling back in pain.
“How dare you!” he yelled, his anger flaring as he slapped me hard across the face. The impact was brutal, sending stars flashing behind my eyes and the pain exploded through me in a fiery rush.
I spit blood onto the floor, locking eyes with him through the haze of pain. “You’d better kill me now, or I will make you pay for this,” I hissed, each word laced with fury.
The other man quickly grabbed his partner’s arm, pulling him back. “Don’t ruin it, idiot,” he muttered. “Beth wants her in one piece.”
With that, the first man cracked the whip, the sharp snap of it slicing through the air. The tip of the whip struck me hard across the back, the searing pain lancing through my body. My scream tore through the air, echoing in the vast emptiness of the warehouse. One strike, two strikes, three... each one worse than the last.
The pain was unbearable, my body trembling, my vision swimming. And then, suddenly, a stabbing pain in my stomach made me gasp. I felt warmth spreading between my legs, a sticky, cloying sensation that sent waves of panic surging through me.
I didn't want to die. Not like this. I was still so young and there was so much I hadn't done yet. The fear was suffocating, drowning me in its grip.
“Rio... help me,” I whispered, my voice a broken plea, the tears beginning to fall freely.
Bethany’s voice suddenly rang out in desperation. “Rio! Please... help me!” Her cries were sharp and full of fear, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.
Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, the door to the warehouse burst open!
