Chapter 3

Aurora's POV

Luke stormed into the room, with Evan right on his heels.

"Making a run for it?" Luke sneered, his eyes locked on the safe in my arms. He lunged to snatch it.

"Get away from me! It's mine!" I screamed, clutching the safe to my chest for dear life.

Luke let out a furious roar and delivered a vicious slap to my head.

My vision blacked out for a second, and I went tumbling backward.

My right shoulder slammed into the sharp corner of the nightstand. An agonizing pain ripped through my nerves.

The safe slipped from my grasp, thudding heavily onto the carpet.

Luke immediately pounced on it, scooping it up into his arms.

"What's the passcode?" he demanded, glaring down at me with condescension.

Clutching my throbbing, seemingly dislocated shoulder, I curled up on the floor and looked up at Evan, who was standing in the doorway.

His hands were casually stuffed in his pockets. He just stood there and watched me get assaulted. No stepping forward. No intervening.

"Evan..." I swallowed the bloody metallic taste in my throat. "Are you really just going to stand there and watch them rob me of my life's work?"

Evan lowered his eyes slightly, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"Aurora, stop throwing a tantrum. Just give Luke the passcode."

"Daphne really loves this design. Once she wins the award, I'll buy you that sports car you love to make up for it."

"A sports car?" I spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. "Do you honestly think my blood, sweat, and tears can be bought with money?"

"Just draw another one," Evan frowned, clearly annoyed by my supposed stubbornness. "Daphne missed out on fifteen years of education. She needs this stepping stone far more than you do. You're her older sister—can't you just let her have this one thing?"

"Since when has she ever treated me like a sister?! That design took three grueling years of my life!"

"And that blue diamond is my mother's only heirloom!"

I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

Luke viciously grabbed a handful of my hair, dragging me up from the floor. "What is the damn passcode?! Tell me, or I'll break your hand right now!"

He snatched my right hand—my drawing hand—and forcefully bent my index and middle fingers backward.

I bit down on my lip hard, refusing to let out a single cry of pain.

"Luke, please don't hurt her." Daphne stepped out from behind Evan, her eyes rimmed with red. "If Aurora really doesn't want to give it to me, then I don't want it..."

"Daphne, this is what you deserve!" Luke snarled, violently increasing the pressure on my fingers.

"Ah—!" I convulsed in agonizing pain, but kept my vicious glare locked on them. "In your dreams!"

"That's enough, Luke." George had silently appeared in the doorway, clutching my locked diary in his hand.

The metal clasp had been brutally smashed open.

He pulled a yellowed piece of paper from inside, his eyes brimming with mockery. "No need to ask. It's the anniversary of her short-lived mother's death. What else would she use for a passcode?"

My breath hitched as my pupils contracted in sheer horror.

How dare they smash open my diary!

Luke dropped my hand and punched in the numbers.

The safe clicked open.

Daphne’s eyes lit up greedily. She reached right in and pulled out my design sketches and the blue diamond.

Right in front of my face, she picked up a pair of scissors from the desk.

In the bottom right corner of the sketch was an iris motif—a special insignia I had drawn to honor my mother. With one vicious snip, she cut it right off.

The scrap of paper fluttered to the floor.

"Thanks, Aurora," she smiled innocently. "But this logo is a bit too tacky. I think it looks much better without it. After all, it is my masterpiece now."

"Those are my sketches! Who gave you the right to touch them?!"

Luke delivered a merciless kick behind my knees.

I crashed heavily to my knees on the floor.

"Lock her in the abandoned attic on the third floor," George ordered, shooting me a look of pure disgust. "Daphne has a press conference tomorrow; we can't have her running around running her mouth. Keep her locked up until the competition is over."

The attic.

The third-floor attic had no windows, and even the air vents were entirely sealed off. It was crammed with rotting, moldy junk.

It was far more claustrophobic and suffocating than the basement.

"Evan! Please, help me!" I clung desperately to Evan's pant leg, my cracked nails digging into the fabric. "I can't go up there! I'll literally die!"

Evan glanced at Daphne, whose face was still stained with fake tears, and then looked down at my pathetic, battered state.

He bent down and mercilessly pried my fingers off his leg, one by one.

"Take this time inside to reflect on your actions."

Luke grabbed me by the collar and dragged me all the way up to the third floor.