Chapter 4

When I came to again, I was in a different room. It looked like a luxury hotel suite, the windows were bulletproof, and two men in black suits stood guard outside.

This was Edward's doing. He found a fancier way to lock me up.

My wrist was bandaged well, but I felt weak from the blood loss.

Edward showed up here every day right on the dot. He didn't speak to me, didn't even look at me—just appeared and left, as if he were clocking in for work.

I could see the cap of a Parker fountain pen that was clipped to his suit pocket. I knew that pen. I'd given it to him for his birthday.

When I handed it to him, I said I hoped every decision he signed with it would carry a little warmth, and he had used that pen to sign the order to tear down my café, Serena's Song.

He used to go there whenever he needed to get away from his family's chaos. Sitting there with a cup of the coffee I'd made, he once told me, "Serena, this place feels more like home than the Sterling house ever has."

Now he had demolished our home with his own hands so he could build Charlotte a shimmering tower on the rubble.

At that thought, whatever warmth I still had left in me finally went out.

Now, he sat on the farthest sofa, buried in paperwork and phone calls, acting as if I weren't even in the room. With that indifference, he built a cage stronger than any lock.

I knew he was afraid. From the explosion at the café to the jump at the abandoned base to the slit wrist in the hospital, they had finally realized I truly meant to die.

That realization scared them, and they started to lose it.

That afternoon, Charlotte came. She walked in wearing an elegant designer dress, graceful from head to toe. She dismissed the caretaker, then stepped to my bedside with a flawless, tender smile. "Serena, are you feeling any better?"

Charlotte placed a bouquet of white lilies on the nightstand and said, "Eddie and the others have been worried sick. You know how men are—tough mouths, soft hearts."

She spoke while taking a bank card and a document from her bag, setting them gently beside me. "There's 6.5 million dollars in this account. The password is your birthday."

Her voice was soft, almost soothing. "It's enough for you to live on."

"And this," she added, "is a donation agreement. All you have to do is sign it and voluntarily donate the land where Serena's Song used to stand to my foundation. The 6.5 million dollars will be your living allowance."

She smiled sweetly, "Serena, take the money and start over. Think of it as... me paying on Eddie's behalf, buying a little peace from you."

It was the greatest insult she could have given me.

I looked at the bank card, then at the paperwork, then back at Charlotte's saintly expression, and suddenly I laughed.

"Ms. Rivers." I picked up the card and twirled it between my fingers. "Do you remember that ridiculous contract Edward signed at my café when he was at rock bottom?

"He gave me one percent of Sterling Holdings' future shares in exchange for a permanent seat and a cup of the daily special at Serena's Song. He said it was a promise of home.

"So tell me, how much do you think a promise like that is worth? Does 6.5 million dollars even come close?"

Charlotte's smile froze.

I didn't look at her again. I pressed the emergency call button by the bed. That button connected straight to Edward's phone. Her expression collapsed instantly.

Moments later, the door was shoved open. Edward, Ryan, and Adrian rushed in together.

Charlotte clung to Edward the second she saw him, eyes instantly brimming with tears. "Eddie, I—I only came to talk to her, but she... she completely misunderstood me..."

Edward patted her back to calm her, then looked at me with deep disappointment. "Serena, is Charlotte's kindness that worthless to you?"

Ryan fired off without hesitation. "She is giving you money. How could you say something like that? Who do you think you are?"

I ignored them. Then, I took the thin plastic card and put it into my mouth.

Every single one of them froze.

I bit down with everything I had, crushing that symbol of humiliation and their pathetic attempt to buy me off into jagged shards.

The hard plastic cut into my tongue and the inside of my cheeks. The taste of blood and chemical bitterness spread through my mouth like fire.

"Serena!" Adrian reacted first, lunging forward to pry my jaw open.

"Don't touch me!" I shoved him away with the last of my strength, then spat the bloody mixture of broken plastic straight onto Charlotte's pristine white dress. The blood-speckled shards landed like some twisted, outlandish artwork across her expensive fabric.

Charlotte let out a high, broken scream and stumbled back, horrified.

I looked at the three men—stunned, pale, speechless—and my gaze finally fixed on Edward. His face was written with shock, disappointment, and disbelief.

Disappointment? He thought he had the right to be disappointed in me?

I lifted my chin and spoke. "You want to buy me off, is that it? Let me tell you, Edward. A promise of home is priceless. And my life, even if it ends here, will never be sold off that cheap."