As consciousness returned slowly to Seraphina, her head throbbed with a deep, relentless ache, and her neck was stiff and sore from the unnatural angle it had been held in for hours. She tried to open her eyes, but a thick blindfold blocked all light, plunging her into absolute darkness. Panic flickered at the edges of her mind as she tested her limbs—she couldn't move.
Her wrists were bound tightly behind the chair with coarse rope that bit into her skin, her ankles strapped securely to the legs. The air was cold and stale, heavy with the faint scent of rust, damp concrete, and something faintly metallic that made her stomach churn.
A door creaked somewhere behind her, the sound echoing in the space. Heels clicked deliberately across the floor—slow, measured, unhurried. The figure stepped in front of her, close enough that Seraphina could feel the shift in the air and catch a whisper of familiar perfume: jasmine and vanilla, the scent their mother had worn since they were children.
Seraphina's breath caught in her throat, sharp and painful.
"Evelyn," she whispered, her voice barely audible, cracking on the name. She blinked uselessly against the blindfold, refusing to believe it, praying it was anyone else—Clara, a stranger, even Derek. Anyone but the sister she had loved fiercely, protected endlessly.
The blindfold was yanked away roughly. Harsh fluorescent light flooded her vision, forcing her to squint through watering eyes. And there stood Evelyn—perfectly composed in a sleek black sheath dress that hugged her figure like armor, lips painted blood-red, eyes glittering with a cold, triumphant light that Seraphina had never seen before.
"Well, good morning, little sister," Evelyn said sweetly, her voice dripping with mock affection. She reached out and gripped a fistful of Seraphina's tangled hair, yanking her head up sharply until their eyes locked. Pain shot through Seraphina's scalp, but she refused to cry out. "It's so good to see you finally awake. I was starting to worry the dosage was too high."
Seraphina stared, her heart pounding wildly. This couldn't be real. "Evelyn… what are you doing?" The words tumbled out, hoarse and desperate. Then, forcing a weak, disbelieving laugh—the kind people give when they desperately wish something were a cruel joke—she added, "This is a good one. You've had your fun. Untie me now. Please."
Evelyn's smile widened, but it was sharp and joyless, like glass fracturing. "Joke?" She released Seraphina's hair with a shove that snapped her head forward. "Oh, Seraphina. Always so naive. Always thinking the world revolves around your perfect little life." She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Seraphina's cheek. "Tell me, is it a joke when I tell you I have men waiting outside who would do anything I ask?"
Seraphina's stomach twisted, bile rising in her throat. She couldn't believe it—the sister she had trusted with her soul, the one she had shielded from their parents' bitter divorce, shared secrets with during stolen weekends, dedicated so much love and protection to—had orchestrated this nightmare.
Evelyn straightened gracefully and turned toward the door. "Aric," she called coolly, her voice carrying an authority Seraphina had never heard from her before.
The door opened with a heavy groan. A man stepped in—seven feet tall, built like a solid wall of muscle, his face a map of old scars and fresh bruises that told stories of fights he hadn't just survived but relished. A cruel, hungry grin spread across his lips as his gaze raked over Seraphina, lingering in a way that made her skin crawl.
Two more men followed silently behind him—equally massive, equally devoid of mercy, their eyes cold and predatory.
A violent shudder ran through Seraphina's body, from her core to her fingertips. She knew with crushing certainty that the next hours would be a living nightmare. Escape was impossible. Rescue? A fantasy. But if this was how it ended, she would not beg. She would not give Evelyn the satisfaction of seeing her crumble completely. She would make her hurt with every word, every breath she had left.
Seraphina lifted her chin as much as the restraints allowed, meeting Evelyn's eyes with a steadiness that belied the terror clawing at her chest. "I always knew you weren't the sweetest person in the world," she said, her voice icy and controlled. "But murder? Seriously? I never realized you'd stoop this low." She forced a cold, mocking smile. "I wonder why Brian from twelfth grade dumped you so publicly—announced to the entire school that you were crazy. Maybe that's why no one has ever truly loved you. Why no one has ever trusted you. Not really."
Evelyn's eyes blazed with pure, unfiltered rage. Her hand lashed out like a whip, cracking across Seraphina's face with enough force to split her lip and snap her head to the side. Blood filled Seraphina's mouth, warm and metallic, but she only laughed—a low, bitter sound that echoed faintly in the room.
"You bitch," Evelyn hissed, trembling with fury, her composure cracking for the first time. Her chest heaved as she loomed over Seraphina. "You think your words can hurt me now? You're nothing. You have nothing left. No father taking care of you now—no more emails from dear old Dad offering to 'help.' No family to run to. Hale Lumina is mine—every share, every design, every cent you poured your pathetic heart into. Mother made sure of it. Golden Enterprises was always ours, set up years ago just for this moment. You just handed me the keys like the trusting fool you are."
A cold, absolute fear went through Seraphina's heart then, like icy fingers wrapping around her soul and squeezing until she could barely breathe. Evelyn's words weren't just taunts—they were a complete annihilation, stripping away the last fragile illusions of safety she'd clung to in her fractured world.
"You… you planned all of this?" Seraphina whispered, her voice breaking despite her resolve. "The proposal? The scandal? Everything?"
Evelyn's rage twisted into a triumphant sneer. "Every detail. From the moment Derek looked at you in boarding school, I made sure he'd choose me in the end. The slap? Perfect timing. The boycott? I whispered to the right influencers. And the bailout? You signed your empire away with your own fingerprint." She laughed softly. "You should thank me. I gave you purpose—one last dramatic exit."
Seraphina swallowed blood, her defiance flickering but not extinguished. "You'll never be me, Evelyn. No matter what you take. You'll always be the shadow."
Evelyn's face darkened. She nodded sharply to Aric and the others."Do whatever you want with her," she said, voice trembling with venom. "When you're finished… end it."
She turned on her heel and walked toward the door, pausing only to add over her shoulder, her voice laced with finality, "Goodbye, Seraphina. You should have stayed in your place. Second best suits some people."
The door closed with a heavy thud, sealing Seraphina in with the monsters.
Aric stepped forward first, cracking his knuckles with a sound like snapping bones. The others circled like predators.
Seraphina closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in one last steady breath. She thought of her designs sparkling under lights, of laughter with her mother on rare good days, of the girl Evelyn used to be. She would not scream for Evelyn's satisfaction. She would not break easily.
Time fractured.Pain came in waves—blunt, consuming, impossible to measure. Her body stopped feeling like her own as her mind retreated inward, building walls where none had existed before. Voices blurred. Sensations dulled. The world narrowed to darkness and noise until even thought slipped away.
When awareness returned, it was faint and floating. She felt cold. Heavy.
Someone moved close.
Her vision swam. Her lungs burned.
No more words. No more fight.
When it was finally over, when she hung limp and barely conscious in the chair, pressure closed around her throat—firm, unyielding.
Seraphina's eyes fluttered open one last time. No more words. No more fight. Just a final, fading thought: I never deserved this.
Later, the world read about the tragic suicide of Seraphina Hale—rope to the neck, a handwritten note confessing unbearable guilt over the banquet incident, overwhelming despair from the scandal, immense pressure from work, discovered alone in her Athena apartment.
No one questioned it. The narrative fit too perfectly.
Evelyn attended the funeral in elegant black, a single tear tracing down her flawless cheek for the flashing cameras. She placed a white rose on the casket, whispering for the mourners to hear, "She was my sister. I'll miss her every day."
Derek stood beside her, arm around her waist, the picture of supportive love.
Hale Lumina announced record sales under its bold new leadership.
And the truth died with Seraphina in that cold basement, buried deeper than her grave, lost forever in the silence she could no longer break.