Chapter 1

The day before the fashion design competition, I got kidnapped.

They finally rescued me—every limb snapped, face beaten to a pulp, clothes shredded.

My brother James pulled all his connections, swearing he'd make the kidnappers pay even if it meant bankrupting the whole Quinn family.

And my sister Serena was in tears, frantically reaching out to the best surgeons and top plastic surgery teams overseas.

I lay there crying until I heard her right outside the ER, voice shaking with hesitation.

She muttered to James, "Aren't we being way too cruel to Isabelle? It's just a design competition, but we let so many men hurt her like that. How's she supposed to face the world after this?"

James was silent for a second and then said viciously, "Isabelle's always been so damn arrogant, fighting Sophia for everything. She's already restored her identity as part of our family, but Sophia has always struggled with being the illegitimate child.

"It's made Sophia sensitive and depressed. If you and I, her brother and sister, don't stand up for her, who else will? I'll make sure she gets whatever she wants.

"As for Isabelle, she's still a Quinn, and no one's gonna talk about what happened to her. Once Sophia wins the competition, I'll just throw Isabelle some extra Quinn Group shares."

I wished I could ask him just how many Quinn Group shares would make it up for me.

Tears of heartbreak slid silently down my cheeks.

I wanted to run away from a family full of lies.

The hospital director came in person, voice tight with concern. "Mr. Quinn, are you truly refusing the surgery? If you keep delaying, Ms. Quinn could end up confined to her bed for life or even become a vegetable."

James replied firmly, "No surgery. Drop it."

Serena's face twisted in distress as she pleaded, "James, you heard the director. If we wait any longer, Isabelle might be completely paralyzed. And with what she's been through, she wouldn't be able to compete tomorrow anyway."

James sneered, "So what if she's crippled? At least she won't be fighting Sophia for anything ever again. Our family's got enough money. It's not like we can't afford to keep her, even if she's ruined."

He turned around, acting surprisingly gentle as he cradled my head and softly wiped the cold sweat trickling down my forehead.

Then, he mentioned Sophia again, his voice all sugar and spoiling.

"I promised Sophia I'd help her win first prize in the design competition. With Isabelle out of the running, there's nothing left for her to worry about," he said.

Serena just shook her head and then told the doctors, "She's in too much pain. Can't you see the sweat on her forehead? Give her the strongest, most expensive painkillers you have. Our family can more than afford it."

I lay in bed, feeling utterly helpless. Tears slipped down my cheeks as my body wouldn't stop trembling.

It turned out my kidnapping wasn't some enemy's payback—it was carefully set up by James, the big brother I admired most.

He did it so Sophia could openly walk into the competition waving my own design.

And even Serena, the older sister I always thought would protect me, was part of their plan.

The pain racked my whole body, making me feel like I was teetering right on the edge of life and death.

Serena saw the sweat streaming down my forehead, her heart breaking as she cried—her tears falling directly onto my face.

"Isabelle, it's me, Serena. Did the pain wake you up? Don't be scared. I'm right here beside you," she said softly.

She held my hand tightly and then glared furiously at the doctors. "How many times do I have to say this? Use the best painkillers, and be gentle when you wipe her down."

James stood by my bedside, his face contorted in fury. "Those sons of bitches! If I ever catch them, I'll rip them limb from limb and toss what's left to the sharks."

With that, he switched to a look of tender concern that was almost laughable. "Isabelle, I've brought in the best medical team and the most skilled plastic surgeons money can buy. Don't worry. You'll be fixed up, looking just as gorgeous as before.

"I want to see you walk up to that stage, looking absolutely stunning."

I almost laughed, thinking he was such a good actor. I asked in a weak voice, "James, do you actually believe I'll ever stand on that stage again?"

I swallowed the rest of the words: If I really managed to stand on that stage, then where would their cherished treasure, Sophia, go?

"Of course, you will," James said, his voice firm, but he couldn't even meet my eyes.

He knew all too well that he'd destroyed me himself, and he could never let me have a chance to walk onto that stage.

Just to clear the path for Sophia, James, who had once sworn over our mom's grave to protect me for life, was the very one who handed me over to ruin with his own hands.

And Serena, who had always insisted I was her real family, and that Sophia was just Dad's mistress's child, never good enough for the Quinn name, stabbed me in the back without hesitation. Just a few words from Sophia were enough to turn her against me.

More than once, it was me—always in secret—pulling them out of the traps Sophia set for them.

But in the end, they chose to humiliate me with lies and deceit, crushing any trust I had left.

All I wanted right then was to die, to cut every last tie between us for good.

The doctors kept disinfecting my wounds and dosing me with painkillers.

"Ms. Quinn, the specialists still aren't here. We can only keep your wounds clean and try to ease your pain for now. If it hurts, just scream," a doctor told me.

No painkiller could dull the torment wracking my body. I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood—warm and running wild down my face.

But none of it even touched the pain in my heart.

Serena saw me writhing in pain, and her tears wouldn't stop.

James's eyes were full of such sorrow, as if he truly wished he could take my pain for himself.

Their concern seemed painfully real on the surface, yet not a trace of warmth touched my heart.