Chapter 1

The Reid Family's golden boy Julian, was a straight-up psycho.

Anyone who crossed him ended up getting their ass handed to them—no exceptions.

Unfortunately, my most despised step-sister happens to be the very person he shields like precious treasure.

Day before, my stepsis straight-up smashed my Mom's urn on purpose. So I broke her hand right there in front of everyone.

Next day, Reid's men kidnapped me into a windowless room—they broke my arms and legs, sliced my tendons.

With my last breath, I begged my most trusted bodyguard for help.

However, what I heard from these kidnappers was them calling him "Mr. Reid".

In that moment, all hope died inside me.

I wanted nothing more than to die.

But Julian Reid? He just... completely fell apart.

---

I literally picked up Julian on the street.

It was pouring that night when a gang cornered him in some sketchy alley.

I leaned against the car window, admiring the people struggling to survive in the rainstorm.

The way he fought? Pure art. His soaked shirt clung to perfectly defined muscles, every punch and kick charming as hell. I could literally see water droplets dancing across his biceps.

Even with blood streaming down his face, that crimson only made him more beautiful—like something dangerous and tragic all at once.

Like a perfect masterpiece that cut straight to your soul.

But one cannot against many. Eventually they got him down.

I waited until he was completely bloodied with two broken ribs before finally pushing my door open and calling the cops.

Hearing the sound of police sirens, the thugs scattered like cockroaches.

That's when I extended my hand to him: "I just saved your life. How about you protect mine for three years in return?"

Rain pelted his chiseled face—literally looked carved from marble.

He barely lifted his head, those obsidian eyes deep as midnight lakes, completely emotionless.

He never answered, but I took his silence as agreement.

I was no saint. I just saw he was handsome and wanted him.

Nobody in this world loves me, so I figured I'd pick my own family.

And him? Hot enough, tragic enough, and alone enough.

I chased after him for three whole years, and for three whole years, he stayed ice-cold.

Like some untamable cat—no matter how much the owner tried, he always looked indifferent and acted like you were beneath him.

It was kinda entertaining, honestly.

He didn't love me, but at least whenever I was in danger, he'd be the first to show up and save my ass.

That was enough.

Until...

At that gala, when he fell hard for my step-sister Aria at first sight...

That's when my life turned into a complete nightmare.

Day before, Aria fell during an argument with me.

Next day, someone pushed me down a staircase, giving me a severe concussion.

Day before, my bestie couldn't stand Aria's toxic princess act anymore and forced her to drink a glass of wine as punishment.

Next day, someone held me down and forced three bottles of liquor down my throat, giving me a perforated stomach.

For months, I faced brutal retaliation.

And behind it all? The Reid family's psychotic golden boy.

Nobody knew how Aria and Julian met, but everyone in Boston knew Julian treated her like she was made of glass—nobody could touch a single hair on her head.

Gradually, I lost all my friends. Even my bestie started avoiding me.

Her final warning: "Stop fighting with Aria or that Reid psycho will end you."

So what? Like I gave a damn.

When Aria deliberately smashed my mom's urn to provoke me? I still beat the crap out of her right in front of everyone without hesitation, breaking both her manipulative hands.

The next day, I was kidnapped, locked in some warehouse on the edge of town, my tendons sliced, my limbs broken.

"Mr. Reid, we've taught her a lesson just like you asked," one kidnapper said.

They accidentally put the call on speaker, and a familiar voice came through:

"Warn her—next time she hurts Aria, I'll kill her."

Cold. Detached. Ruthlessly cruel. Just like always.

But the familiar voice... I couldn't believe it.

How could it be him?

How could it possibly be him?

After delivering their warnings, they tossed me a phone.

"Call someone to rescue you. Remember today's lesson!"

To make it even more humiliating, they'd smeared their release and disgusting all over the phone.

Vile. Absolutely revolting.

I didn't move. Just lay there, silently watching their smug faces.

After about ten minutes, they got bored and finally left.

Just before the warehouse door closed, I heard their conversation one last time.

"Mr. Reid, we gave her the phone. You're the person she trusts and depends on most. She'll call you first... just like always..."

The last spark of hope in my heart died.

Julian Reid... He actually was the Reid family's psychotic heir all along!

Chapter 2

I stared at that phone, remembering when Aria got trapped in an elevator.

She begged me for help, but I straight-up ignored her, just clicked away in my stilettos.

That night, the Reid family heir had his men lock me in some pitch-black room.

Three days and nights—no food, no water. Just hunger, cold, and pure darkness wrapping around me like a vise.

Julian had my location tracking on his phone. Only he could've found me immediately.

So I called him over and over, desperate for rescue.

But he just said: "Apologize properly to Aria, and I'll come get you right away."

No way in hell would I cave. I called the cops, but somehow they played the tricks—police couldn't locate me anywhere.

When officers came to investigate, my dad, brother, and Julian all claimed nothing happened. I even got blacklisted for filing a "false report."

That time, I endured for three whole days until I hit my absolute limit.

I was so terrified, sobbing as I apologized to Aria.

That was the first time in ten years I'd bowed my head to that toxic mother-daughter duo.

Also the first time in ten years Aria had me completely under her foot.

She said she was so happy that "big sister finally learned her lesson."

Dad and brother were thrilled I'd "finally matured and well-behaved" and told me to "keep it up."

After that black room, I developed severe claustrophobia.

Terrified of darkness, of enclosed spaces—but right now? I felt nothing.

Perhaps only when people still want to live will they have such a meaningless emotion as fear.

This time, I didn't touch the phone, and just lay in that warehouse for three days.

I remembered so many things.

Remembered childhood when Mom was still around—our family of four perfectly happy, me the adored little princess.

Remembered Mom getting sick, ravaged by chemo and radiation, withering away while Dad spent less and less time at home.

Remembered Mom's hysteria when that woman sent intimate photos of herself with Dad during Mom's worst suffering.

Remembered how she brought her daughter openly to our house to "celebrate" Mom's final birthday.

Mom trembled with rage.

That day, Mom had just returned from chemo, already in agony. Seeing this scene, so her heart suddenly gave out. They couldn't save her.

That day, my brother held me as we both sobbed for hours.

He stroked my back saying, "Don't be scared, Katie. You still have me. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Less than a month after Mom died, Dad eagerly moved his mistress and stepdaughter into our home.

At first, my brother stood with me, both of us hating the homewreckers.

But when did he start accepting them?

Maybe when Aria handed him her only candy with trembling little hands.

Or when she got bullied at school, acting all brave and stubborn, yet deliberately crouching on my brother's regular path to wipe away tears...

She was always the fragile, pitiful one—just like her homewrecker mother.

Yet me? Forever cast as the ruthless bully.

I didn't know since which day, my brother's eyes changed when he looked at me.

During arguments with Aria, he started taking her side.

He seemed to forget Mom's suffering, forget why she died.

When I confronted him, he just got irritated: "Mom had cancer. It was terminal anyway..."

See that? Such a familiar, cold words.

That was Dad's go-to excuse to defend his mistress, and now my brother repeated it so naturally, without hesitation.

After that, I had no family left.

And now, the person I hand-picked to be my family, for those toxic mother-daughter parasites, didn't hesitate to drive death's blade into me again and again.

I looked at my broken limbs, then at that filthy phone, and finally laughed bittly.

This life, filled with nothing but hatred and betrayal, was truly pointless.

So, I never touched that phone. Just lay there for three days, right until the very end.

Chapter 3

I thought I was going to die.

But at the last moment, someone kicked open the warehouse door.

"Why? Why didn't you call me!"

Julian rushed in like a wild beast.

In the dim light, he saw me covered in blood, my mangled wrists, and my legs where bone nearly showed through.

All sound vanished.

"Katie, don't die! I forbid you to die!"

His hands trembled as he picked me up, as if he actually cared whether I lived or died.

I cracked my lips into a silent laugh.

"Katie! Katie! Please, stay alive!"

Something wet dropped onto my face.

Crocodile tears, perhaps?

Tch...

Eventually, I was still been rushed to the hospital and somehow survived.

When I opened my eyes, he was there, sleepless, his eyes bloodshot.

"Why? Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you ask for my help? Why?"

He stared at me firmly, wanting an answer.

He couldn't understand why the person who once depended on him most, trusted him most, would rather die than make that rescue call.

The phone was right beside her—hell, he was her emergency contact, the only goddamn person she could lean on.

"Why? Why didn't you call me?!"

Julian repeated like a madman, his voice suppressed yet breaking.

But I only found it almost amusing. Weren't you the one who wanted me dead? Why put on this act now? Who's it for?

I glanced at the phone he'd brought back.

Just that slight movement of my eyes, and Julian quickly grabbed the phone for me. When it touched his hand, he finally realized something.

The dried filth dissolved in his cold sweat-soaked palm, sticky and foul-smelling.

As a man, how could he not understand what had stained the phone screen?

In that moment, he froze completely.

"They destroyed my hands,"

I forced words through my parched, bleeding throat and lips.

"They made me use my tongue..."

My throat rattled like broken bellows, the sound truly awful.

Julian swayed, as if about to collapse.

Shock, panic, utter disbelief, and finally just trembling.

Saw his reaction, I slowly stretched my cracked lips into a smile.

Julian, you're the one behind all this, how long did you plan to hide it from me?

I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him.

Then the doctor came to check on me.

"Broken bones can be set, but damaged tendons and ligaments are difficult to repair."

"The patient was injured too long ago. If she'd come to the hospital immediately after being hurt, we could've guaranteed at least 80% function in both hands, but now..."

The doctor shook her head helplessly.

"The VIP patient upstairs is the Shred Group heiress. She was injured recently too, just a minor fracture, but the Reid Group brought in a world-class specialist team for her. They're still in the hospital, and if they could help, I believe there's a chance your hands could regain function. Not 100%, but enough for daily activities like eating and dressing..."

The female doctor looked at me with sympathy. "Our chief personally requested their help, but, when they heard it was you, they said you'd have to kneel before Miss Aria and beg..."

She knew how humiliating this was, but she had to say it directly—it was what Aria's brother had explicitly asked her to convey.

Remembering the murderous look in that young man's eyes, she still felt terrified.

Heard of that, I smiled and said, "It's fine. I can just die."

How pathetic that those words came from my own brother! He'd completely forgotten our mother's death.

Hearing what I said, the doctor's face turned deathly pale, unable to utter another word about begging for help.

Because they knew well: when a patient angrily says they want to die, it can be dismissed as emotional outburst. But when a patient calmly—even smilingly—says they can die, they truly mean it.

Julian lost control again.

"Katie, stop being ridiculous!"

"You hurt Aria first! It's just kneeling and apologizing... Is your pride really more important than your life?"

Hearing that, I turned to stare at him, laughing coldly. "You want me to apologize to the murderer who killed my mother?

"I'd. Rather. Die."

Julian's veins bulged with anger.

That typically cool, composed man—for the first time, I saw him completely lose control.

Did he want so badly to see me kneel before Aria?

Hell no, I'm not letting you bastards get your way!

I closed my eyes—no longer wishing to look at this filthy world for another second.