I stayed there... on the floor. My back pressed against the wood.
The diary clutched tightly against my chest like it could shield me from everything that had just happened.
My eyes stung. My lungs burned... Even breathing hurts.
I dragged in a breath... Then another...again.
It still didn’t work. It still didn’t ease the tightness in my chest.
Ryan’s voice echoed in my head.
"You’re mine. Just like she was."
My fingers tightened around the leather cover until it hurt.
"No..." I whispered under my breath, shaking my head. "I’m not her."
The words felt hollow.
Because right now... I wasn’t sure who I was.
How did it become like this? How did my life turn out this way?
My eyes lifted slowly, scanning my room... The pink walls, the four-post bed draped in princess pink silk, and the walk-in closet filled with clothes I didn’t even recognise.
Clothes I didn’t really own.
Did I even belong here? In this room, in this world?
The silence pressed in... Heavy and unforgiving.
My thoughts started racing.
Do I even want to keep doing this?
Do I want to keep staying here... pretending to be Isabelle?
Live inside someone else’s life while someone like Ryan hovered around me every breathing second?
My stomach twisted violently.
"How do I get him off my back...?"
The question came out hoarse.
Because this wasn’t just a problem anymore... It was survival.
For a long moment, maybe minutes or hours... I stayed there letting my thoughts wander.
My grip on the diary loosened slightly. Then tightened again.
This.
This was the only thing I had.
The only leverage.
The only truth.
I stared at it for a long moment, and then finally, I opened it.
The pages felt thinner than they should have. Like they weren’t meant to be touched.
My eyes scanned the written sentences. One after the other.
I saw pages I had read already. Pages where Isabelle talked about normal daily lifestyle stuff... like her lessons, Estelle’s control, Joel’s sternness, and Ryan. It was mostly about him.
I kept flipping and stopped on the next page.
Ryan said it’s not the right time again today...
I frowned slightly.
Again?
I turned the page.
I told him I could handle it, but he didn’t even listen.
My chest tightened, a strange unease creeping in.
Another page.
Ryan says we can’t have a child. Not now. Not when Joel was already pushing the Knight alliance. If he knew his own ’son’ had knocked up his daughter... he would bury us both.
A cold, visceral wave of nausea rolled through me.
Ryan told the doctor it was an emergency. He assured me that it wouldn’t happen again... when he takes over the New York branch, we’ll be untouchable. We can have a dozen children then.
My stomach turned. He hadn’t just forced her into an abortion; he had convinced her it was an act of love.
The doctor said it would be quick. I won’t feel much. I just need to rest after.
My fingers stilled.
A cold weight settled in my stomach.
No. No no no...
My eyes dropped lower.
I didn’t even get to decide. Ryan said we can’t have distractions right now.
The words blurred for a second before snapping back into focus.
My hand trembled slightly as I turned the page.
There was a gap. The next pages had nothing... Some had short entries. I kept flipping. Then—
It’s done. I don’t feel anything. I thought I would cry... But I didn’t.
I just feel empty.
The room felt too small. My clothes felt too tight.
I slammed the diary shut.
"Oh my God..." The words came out barely above a whisper.
My mind raced, trying to replay everything I had just read.
He forced her. No, worse... He decided for her.
My stomach churned with disgust, anger, and... fear.
All mixing together.
For a moment, I just processed everything I uncovered... I stood up on shaky legs, holding the door for support.
I walked towards the bed in a daze and bumped into the side table. The glass of water on it tilted, pouring onto the table and splashing onto the carpet and the floor.
I ignored it and slumped onto the bed, my hands braced behind my head.
A thought occurred to me... Something colder and sharper.
My eyes dropped to the diary again.
"...Can I use this?"
The thought came quietly.
Dangerously. If Ryan cared about control... If he needed everything to stay hidden... Then this...
This could destroy him, or at least slow him down. It’d make him give me the space I needed.
But then another thought hit me just as fast.
Will the Quinns believe me?
If the truth came out, would Estelle and Joel protect me?
Or would they protect him?
The answer didn’t come.
What answered me was a knock on my door. I stiffened, my eyes scanning the door like Ryan could barge in any moment.
"Who is it?" I asked, my voice raspy.
"It’s me, Vivian. I came to clean your room," the voice answered. I remembered her as one of the maids.
Why would she want to clean the room when it was already spotless?
I made my way to the door anyway, opening it just a fraction to reveal Vivian in her maid’s uniform, a mop in hand.
"Sorry for disturbing your sleep, Miss, but Young Master Ryan sent me to clean the water. Said you splashed some water onto the floor," she said.
I stepped aside and made Vivian step inside before I froze, her words finally sinking in.
"Repeat what you just said."
"Young Master Ryan sent me to clean the water—"
I whip around, my eyes scanning my room for any hidden spot, every hidden panel or blind spot.
"God, I’m going to kill him!"
Ryan, that freak, had installed a camera in my room without my knowledge.
How do you explain how he knew I splashed water when it happened with me alone in this room?
I began searching the room, flipping clothes, shifting vases, turning the room upside down.
"Um...M–miss, did you lose something?" Vivian’s hesitant voice came from behind me.
"Leave!"
"W-what?!"
"I said leave me the fuck alone!"
Vivian scampered away! Looking at me with fear in her eyes.
My hand moved before I could stop it.
Grabbing my phone.
Unlocking it.
Scrolling.
His number... Cassian.
I stared at it for a second.
I exhaled sharply. Would he help me? Or would I just be stepping into another cage?
I didn’t think... I didn’t have the luxury... I just pressed the call button.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
My heart pounded harder with each second.
He wasn’t going to answer.
Of course, he wouldn’t—
Why would he?
I almost pulled the phone away.
Fourth ring.
Fifth.
"Pick up..." I whispered under my breath.
Sixth.
Seventh.
Just as I was about to hang up.
Click.
My breath caught.
"...Cassian?" I said quickly, standing straighter.
There was silence over the phone.
Then—
"Miss Quinn?"
The voice wasn’t Cassian’s.
My stomach dropped.
"Randy?" I asked, confusion cutting through the panic. "Where’s Cassian?"
Randy didn’t answer immediately, but I could hear his breathing... as if he were hesitating.
It was long enough to make something cold settle in my chest.
"...He’s unavailable right now." He finally said, but something in his tone rubbed me the wrong way.
"What do you mean by unavailable?" My voice sharpened. "Put him on the phone."
He sighed. "The boss is in the hospital."
The words didn’t register at first.
"...What?"
"He was in a car accident."
Silence.
Everything went quiet.
My grip loosened. The phone nearly slipped from my hand.
"What...?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"When?"
~~~♧♧♧~~~
5 hours earlier... Cassian’s Mansion...
Ryan stood there long after Cassian’s car disappeared.
His jaw tightened as he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
"Everything can’t be about you, Cassian," he whispered under his breath.
Cassian seemed too invested in Yvette. Cassian Knight.
The man who didn’t involve himself in anything unnecessary. The man who avoided complications.
The man who didn’t care.
So why... Why her?
That alone was enough to unsettle him. At this rate, the alliance will happen anytime soon.
But it wasn’t just that.
It was the way she looked. Yvette. Flustered. Distracted.
Avoiding his eyes.
Ryan’s expression darkened, his gaze hardening as he pulled out his phone.
He stared at the screen for a second.
Then he made a call.
"Leak his route on the dark web," he said the moment the line connected, his tone cold. "Cassian Knight is driving solo at this moment. I’ll send you his car details and route information."
Ryan’s grip tightened around the phone. "...Do it discreetly."
He ended the call, his eyes calculating toward the direction the car had gone.
"Show me what you’ve got, Knight," he muttered.