Chapter Three

Anna's Pov

I had heard the rumors about the third Kingsley son.

Before the fire, he had been a household name, the star everyone expected to rise. A recognized genius. The Kingsleys had three sons, but it was the youngest who carried everyone's hopes. At six he could play piano at concert level. His reading ability unsettled even his private tutors, because no child was supposed to be that far ahead. By eight he was already sitting in on his grandfather's business meetings. People said he would command the entire empire before he turned thirty, that he was the sharpest mind the Kingsley family had produced in three generations.

Then came the fire, and with it, ruin. The talent, the future, the heir everyone had waited for, all of it turned to ash.

Fifteen years ago, the blaze destroyed his face. The flesh festered, twisted, scarred over. Disfigurement so severe that even his own family recoiled from it, as though a demon had crawled back from hell. The fire took his legs too. They said the nerve damage was permanent, that he was confined to a wheelchair. Some versions of the story claimed he could still manage a few steps on crutches. Others insisted he couldn't stand at all. No one knew for certain, because no one had laid eyes on him in over a decade.

After the fire, he turned violent. Unpredictable, cold, merciless. The servants had to be replaced every few months, because no one could bear to be near him. I'd heard the stories. A housekeeper struck in the head with a crystal decanter for opening the curtains, who quit right after. A private nurse who vanished in the middle of the night and refused to explain why. A cook who lasted two weeks and left without collecting his final wages.

The Kingsleys dealt with the problem the way powerful families always deal with an embarrassment. They made it disappear. They locked him away in an estate on the city's outskirts, ringed by high walls and heavy security, staffed with well-paid servants sworn to silence. He never appeared in public again. The rest of the family attended their galas, their board meetings, their events, and whenever a reporter asked about "the third son," the answer was always the same smooth deflection: "He prefers a quiet life."

But everyone understood. He was the one thing their money and power couldn't fix, so they hid him away.

And now they wanted me to marry a man like that.

"No!" The word burst out of me. "I will not marry someone like that!"

The moment I said it, my stepmother seized a fistful of my hair, her sharp nails raking across my scalp and digging into the skin until I gasped.

"You don't want to marry him? Then who do you think you'll marry?" she sneered. "It's a miracle the Kingsleys would even look at you. Take a look in the mirror. Skin and bones, covered in bruises, reeking like a sewer."

She let go of my hair and I slumped against the door.

"And don't forget," she added, smoothing down her blouse, "you've done time. You have a record. That will follow you for the rest of your life." She tilted her head and smiled. "So who else do you think would ever want you?"

Leo said nothing. His silence was agreement.

The tears came. And in that moment, something dawned on me. I had been foolish and desperate enough to believe that when they came for me, they would feel at least a flicker of guilt for everything I'd suffered this past month.

But no. Not a flicker.

From the moment I climbed into that car, they had never once treated me like a daughter. I was a bargaining chip. A month ago I had been the sacrifice offered to Elizabeth's family to cool their fury. Now I was a piece to be laid on the table before the Kingsleys.

As long as I drew breath, the Greys would wring the last drop of blood out of me.

My very existence was a sin.

The car stopped in front of the Grey mansion. They threw me into the basement.

It was damp and cold, the smell of mold thick in the air. Cardboard boxes stacked to the ceiling under a film of dust, the light dim. It was barely better than prison. Worse, maybe.

This was the house I'd grown up in. As a child I used to race down these very stairs chasing the cat, my mother laughing somewhere above me. Now the same stairs led to a room where they stacked me away like luggage.

Leo released my arm and turned to leave. I lunged forward and grabbed the hem of his trousers with both hands.

"Dad—"

The tears blurred everything. I had no dignity left. "Dad, I'm your daughter too. I'm begging you."

"Marrying the third Kingsley son is no different from ruining the rest of my life. That madman with the burned face, crippled for life, locked away. Would you send your own daughter into hell with your own hands? Dad, I'm begging you."

Leo looked down at me with disgust. "Having a daughter like you is the greatest misfortune of my life."

He tried to pull free, but I only gripped tighter.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've brought this family since you came into it?" he said. "One problem after another, every single day."

Then he asked, as if he genuinely wondered, "Why didn't you just die with your mother?"

The world seemed to stop. Every sound, every sensation, everything froze inside that one sentence. Hearing him curse me to death, I forgot, for that instant, how to breathe.

But I didn't let go.

I clutched his trousers again and pulled him closer. "You need money, don't you? I can work. I can do anything. I'll earn it and pay you back. But please, don't sell me to the Kingsleys. Please, I'm begging you."

Leo gave a contemptuous laugh. "You? Earn money?"

"Even if you sold yourself on the streets every night, you couldn't make a tenth of what the Kingsleys are paying. It's decided. There's nothing to discuss."

I stayed on my knees, still clinging to him. His patience finally ran out.

He drove his foot into my shoulder, and my back hit the concrete first. All I could do was watch through blurred eyes as those polished, cold leather shoes walked away. Before the door closed, I heard him order the servants:

"Keep a close watch on her. And if she still hasn't come to her senses, don't feed her."