Chapter 3

The moment we left the crowd's sight, Lucas dropped his gentle protector act entirely. He practically dragged me down the corridor of the east wing and into the basement.

This abandoned storage room had no windows. The cold air reeked of mildew and dust.

Overhead, a single fluorescent bulb flickered erratically, casting a sickly white glow. The heavy iron door groaned behind us with a teeth-grinding screech.

"Charlotte, you went way too far today." The second we were inside, Lucas released my hand with disgust, as if he'd touched something filthy, then turned toward the corner to search for bandages.

I leaned against the cold wall, watching his back with an icy stare. "Lucas, did you ever really love me?"

He froze mid-motion, then turned his head. His eyes held a flash of impatience mixed with self-righteousness.

"Charlotte, you were born with a silver spoon. Sophie's had to fight for scraps. I'm just trying to help her. Why can't you be more generous?"

"Generous? Hand over what's mine, then watch you two live it up with my trust fund—that's what you call generous?" I laughed bitterly, my voice echoing in the hollow basement.

Lucas flushed at being called out, his shame turning to anger. "You're unbelievable! Damien's right—you're out of your mind!"

Before his words could fade, the iron door slammed open.

Within minutes, Damien and Sophie had arrived. They must have abandoned the mess upstairs the moment they could, eager to finish this once and for all.

Damien had already shed his suit jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a dust-covered table. He rolled up his sleeves as he fixed me with the cold gaze one gives a corpse.

Sophie clung close behind him, clutching a black metal case.

"Damien, she made such a scene in the office. If she gets out and starts talking..." Sophie's voice dripped with barely concealed malice.

"She won't be around to talk." Damien cut her off coldly, advancing toward me step by step.

"Charlotte, I was going to let you keep some dignity. Sign the papers like a good girl, and you could've stayed the pampered princess. But you had to make a spectacle of yourself like some lunatic. You think hurting yourself gives you leverage over me?"

I shrank back into the corner, feigning terror, my voice trembling. "What... what are you going to do?"

Damien didn't answer. Instead, he extended his hand toward Sophie. She immediately opened the metal case and withdrew a syringe already filled with clear liquid.

The moment I saw that syringe, phantom pain seized my throat—a sense of suffocation I couldn't quite place.

But I bit down hard on my tongue, using the pain to force myself into absolute clarity.

"What is that?" I stared wide-eyed in apparent horror, pressing my body against the wall.

"Concentrated peanut extract, with a touch of high-potency hallucinogen." Damien's lips curled into a cruel smile.

"You already 'had your breakdown' in the office, didn't you? A girl with severe paranoid delusions, having an episode in the basement, accidentally injecting herself with a fatal allergen, going into shock and dying. The police will come to that perfect conclusion."

Lucas stood to the side, face pale, but he made no move to stop this. He simply turned away, unable to meet my eyes.

"This is murder!" I screamed, while my hands behind my back found the micro recording transmitter hidden in my waistband.

This device—which I'd purchased at great expense immediately after my rebirth—uploaded audio to the cloud in real-time once activated.

"Murder? No, this is survival of the fittest." Damien stood before me, looking down with contempt.

"Charlotte, you should've known better than to stand in my way. As long as you're alive, I can't access the full trust fund. As for that Ivy League spot..."

He glanced back at Sophie.

Sophie stepped forward, her fragile mask completely gone, replaced by twisted triumph. She gripped the syringe, her eyes poisonous.

"Charlotte, do you know how much I've envied you? Why were you born with everything? Why do you get recommendation letters so easily? I've spent every day groveling to Damien, to Lucas, degrading myself every single day—all for this moment!"

"So you planned this from the start?" I forced down my nausea, drawing them out further. "Damien bribed Professor Smith, Lucas kept me in line, and you, Sophie—you're the executioner?"

"You're not completely stupid." Damien sneered. "You've always been too trusting. You didn't actually think I cared about some fairy tale of family loyalty, did you? You're nothing but an obstacle to my inheritance."

"Lucas," I turned to that coward of a man, "is it about money for you too?"

Lucas didn't turn around, his voice hoarse. "Sophie promised me... once she gets the spot, Damien will invest in my father's company. I couldn't say no, Charlotte. I'm sorry."

Perfect. Motive, method, accomplices—all laid bare.

My hand behind my back tapped the device twice, confirming the audio had fully uploaded. Simultaneously, I calculated the time in my head.

Half an hour ago, on the way to the office, I'd used a backup phone to set a timed email to the state police chief—someone with business interests that conflicted with Damien's family.

The email contained recordings of their coercion and the exact location of this basement.

By my calculations, they should be arriving any moment now.

"Enough talk." Damien's patience ran out. He lunged forward, gripping my jaw and slamming me against the frigid wall with crushing force.

"Sophie, do it."

Sophie approached with the syringe, grinning maliciously. The needle gleamed with cold menace in the dim light.

"Should've known your place, Charlotte." Sophie raised the syringe, aiming for the vein in my arm.

I didn't struggle. I simply stared at her coldly, the corner of my mouth curling into an eerie smile.

Sophie froze, stung by the mockery in my eyes. Her face twisted with rage as she drove the needle toward my arm.

The instant the needle pierced my skin—

BANG!

The heavy iron door exploded inward with a deafening crash.