Chapter 3

Blood smeared across my vision as I forced myself to focus on the man standing before me.

For a second, I'd given up all hope. But seeing who it was, my lifeless heart suddenly blazed with hope again.

It was Colin Miller, my dad's closest friend.

He watched me grow up, so there was no way he'd watch me die.

I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "Colin, please help me," I begged.

But in the blink of an eye, hope slipped away again.

Colin snapped, "Shave her head, and do it quick. Mr. Morris must not recognize her.

"Otherwise, everything we've worked for all these years might get ruined by her."

Jason didn't say a word. He grabbed the clippers and shaved my head.

Colin crouched in front of me, his gaze cold and calculating. "This won't do. She's still recognizable. Mess up her face."

"But we were going to use her to lure in men," Jason argued.

Colin snapped, "What's more important, money or your life? Just do what I tell you."

Jason gritted his teeth and drew the blade across my face again and again. Each slash burned as the blood poured down my mangled cheeks.

I was completely disfigured now, barely clinging to life.

"That should do it," Colin said.

Suddenly, it was like something clicked in his mind. He grabbed my ankle and exposed a silver pendant tightened with red thread.

My dad made that pendant for me himself, as a birthday gift when I turned twelve.

Right at the center, he carved my name Stella by hand with a small knife.

It was his personal blessing for me, hoping I'd always be safe, carefree, and protected.

Colin said, "Can you be any more careless? Why the hell is this still here?

"What, you want Mr. Morris to catch on or something?"

Colin ripped the pendant off my ankle and chucked it at Mike.

"Use your head. Don't toss it anywhere near the center. If Mr. Morris finds it, you're dead meat," Colin ordered.

Mike scrambled away but barely made it five steps before a spine-chilling voice came from the doorway.

"Why are you acting so nervous? What's that you've got in your hand?" Sam asked.

"It's nothing, Mr. Morris," Mike replied.

"Not gonna show me? Fine, chop his hand off," Sam ordered.

Mike's screams of agony rang out instantly.

"Mr. Morris, it's a silver pendant, and there's a name carved on it, Stella," another man said.

"Stella?" My dad's voice trembled with anxiety. "Bring it here. Let me see it."

Colin, who had been crouching next to me, suddenly rushed out after him.

Colin looked genuinely panicked, worry etched all over his face. "Stella? No way. Could that be her?"

He realized who I was, but he kept up the act, pretending he didn't know me at all.

Why would he pretend? What was his game?

My dad reached out and grabbed the pendant. His hands were trembling so hard he could barely hold it. The moment he saw my blood on it, his face went ashen, totally drained of color.

"Stella! My Stella!" he choked out.

His eyes, rimmed red with tears, went wild as he burst into the room and lunged to scoop me up from the floor.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he fumbled to wipe the blood still seeping from my face. His hands were clumsy and helpless, unsure where to begin holding me.

"What did they do to you?" Dad cried. "Stella, open your eyes. I'm here to save you."

I forced my swollen, bloodshot eyes open and tried to part my lips. Bloody bubbles rose as I struggled, but no real words would come out.

I couldn't utter a single sound. All I could do was move my lips silently, desperately trying to mouth Dad for him to see.

Then, safe in the warmth of my dad's arms, I slipped into a deep coma.

Dad, you finally saw me, but I wasn't your beautiful Stella anymore.

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a plain white ceiling.

The strong smell of disinfectant stung my nose.

It looked like I was in a hospital.

But I couldn't feel my hands at all, and no matter how hard I tried to speak, not a single sound came out.

The burning pain on my face was driving me crazy.

I'd clung to the hope that all that terror was nothing but a nightmare, but facing this harsh reality now, I knew it was all real.

"Stella, you're awake?" Dad said. "I'm right here. Don't be afraid."

I remembered the last time I saw him before I blacked out. He was brimming with energy, authority written all over his face, every inch the man I had always admired.

But now, I saw gray streaking his hair at the temples.

His cheeks were sunken, the skin under his eyes shadowed with deep bruises.

He looked like he'd aged overnight.

I wanted so badly to reach up and touch his face, but my hands were shattered, and my tongue was too swollen to speak.

"Stella, my poor girl. I promise you I'll get revenge for this. I swear it," Dad choked out.

Tears slid down my cheeks as I nodded weakly. It was the only answer I could give him now.

"So from now on, if I ask you something, just nod or shake your head, okay?" Dad said.

I nodded again, tears stinging my cheeks so badly that it made me wince.

Dad brushed away my tears, heartbroken. But then his face hardened, and with a chilly, commanding voice, he shouted toward the door,

"Drag the two of them in here. Now," he shouted.

The bodyguards marched in, dragging Jason, who was scared stiff and had pissed his pants, along with Mike, and threw them down by my hospital bed like sacks of trash.

Mike's right hand was freshly bandaged, his face ghostly pale. He looked like he'd bled half to death already.

Jason whimpered, "We messed up. It's all our fault.

"I didn't recognize your daughter. Please have mercy. I've always put my all into the work here. Please let me off this once."

Jason slumped to the floor, his forehead nearly touching the ground.

He spat, "It was Mike who hurt your daughter, not me. All I did was trick her into coming here, I swear."

Mike was drenched in sweat, lips chalk-white, and eyes unfocused. But he fought tooth and nail to pin the blame on Jason, desperate to weasel his way out.

Mike shot back, "That's not how it happened, Mr. Morris. Your daughter gave away your identity, and I told Jason to stop, but he kept going, saying she was a liar.

"I did all the nasty stuff because Jason told me to."

Dad's voice cracked like a whip as he shouted, "Enough! Shut up!"