For ten years, carrying Delavan Rayne's name, I ruled Memphis's underworld—a living nightmare feared by everyone on both sides of the law.

When I was eighteen, my father died on a mission, and his enemies, hell-bent on wiping out his bloodline, hunted me relentlessly.

To shield me, Delavan, just nineteen at the time, had his hand savagely hacked off. From that day on, I became his sword arm, his loyal partner.

I chopped off my long hair and cast aside my feminine dresses. From then on, every dirty job, every act of violence he needed done, I did for him.

I cleared his path with whatever it took—no mercy, no regrets. The blood on my hands could stain the Mississippi River crimson.

I personally guided him to power, transforming him into the revered "Mr. Rayne," a name whispered with awe and fear.

On the day we were to buy our wedding rings, I arrived five minutes late.

When I rushed in, I saw a girl wearing the very ring I had chosen, admiring it in the mirror.

Delavan's crew hovered around her, calling her "Mrs. Rayne" like it was the most natural thing.

"Mr. Rayne said whatever catches your eye, it's yours—no questions asked," one of them said.

I strode over, snapped her finger like a twig, and yanked her by the hair, dragging her straight into the mall's bustling atrium.

No one dared to say a word. I whipped around to face Delavan's men; my voice cut through the sudden silence.

"I don't give a damn about the man. But no one touches what's mine."

***

Delavan arrived in a storm.

He scooped the girl up with heartbreaking tenderness, settling her on a nearby sofa like fragile porcelain.

Turning, he booted one of his men to the ground, bellowing, "What the hell happened? Are you out of your damn minds?

"Nobody but Laurinda gets to be Mrs. Rayne."

His men collectively bowed their heads, their apologies loud but utterly devoid of sincerity.

I stared at Delavan, boredom laced with bitterness. "Cut the act.

"Without your nod, who in Memphis would dare call her that?"

Delavan leaned down, pressing a kiss to my hair with feigned affection. "Laura, it's my fault. Etta looked so much like you back then—I got lost in the moment.

"But in this world, you're my one and only."

I let out a scoff, sharp and disbelieving. "You told me this morning you had an emergency overseas.

"Yet the second she's in trouble, you come running. What, afraid I'll finish her off?"

I reached out, my fingers tightening like a vise around Delavan's throat. "Then maybe I should finish you off first!"

Delavan's head jerked back, breath ragged and strained. "Laura, it's not like that—I swear, there's nothing between me and her."

"Oh yeah?" I sneered, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You know me—I never buy your bullshit."

Suddenly, the girl behind me let out a piercing scream.

Delavan's eyes widened in panic; he wrenched free from my grip, spinning toward her.

I spun around and kicked him, hard, forcing him down onto his knees.

He stumbled, immediately trying to counterattack, his voice now laced with pure, unrestrained rage. "Laurinda, don't push it!"

I dodged easily, and he didn't try to hit me again. Instead, he scooped the bleeding girl into his arms.

I sauntered to the sofa, lit a cigarette, and exhaled slowly. "Hurts to see her like that?

"She's just bleeding a little. When I was fighting underground, half-dead and broken, I don't recall you ever being this worried."

Delavan's eyes burned red, but his hands stayed gentle as he wiped the blood from the girl's face.

"Laurinda, you're ex-special forces—tough as nails. But Etta? She's just a regular girl!

"All this over a damn ring? You are unbelievable!"

The girl trembled, burrowing deeper into his chest, her voice quivering with sobs. "Lavan, I'm fine as long as you're okay...

"If it weren't for you back then, Laurinda would've died right alongside her worthless dad!

"You lost an arm protecting her! How can she treat you like this?!"

I flicked my ash, slowly raising my eyes to meet hers. "You certainly know a lot, don't you?"

She lifted her blood-smudged face, her expression stubbornly defiant. "Of course! I'm the one who knows him best!

"He says it's only with me that he can forget all those scheming and plotting, and finally be his old self!"

"His old self?" I mocked, pinning Delavan with a glare. "Delavan, do you even remember who you used to be?

"Without me, you'd still be that pathetic punk sleeping under bridges, getting beaten senseless every night!"

A flicker of shame crossed Delavan's face before he shoved the girl toward his men.

He reached for my hand. "Come on, it's just a ring. I'll custom-order something even pricier for you. Sound good?

"That one's on Etta now; let her keep it."

I slapped his hand away.

"Delavan, that ring was designed by my mom for my wedding!

"Why the hell should I give it to her?"

Years ago, we pawned that ring just to survive.

I begged the store owner through tears, pleading with him to keep it safe for me.

That day, Delavan held me close, his voice steady as steel. "Laura, don't worry. I'll get back everything we've lost for you."

Now, half of Memphis bowed to our name. But his heart? It wasn't mine anymore.

He doesn't care about me anymore.

As my baton swung, Delavan didn't flinch—he stepped in front of her, taking the blow. Blood trickled from his lips as he barked, "Get Etta out of here!"

He knew my temper better than anyone.

I never let anyone draw my blood without painting the walls with theirs.

The store erupted into chaos, fists flying as our crews clashed.

Delavan blocked every step I took toward the girl.

I watched them shove her into a black SUV, and something inside me snapped. I drew my concealed dagger and plunged it straight into his back.

He groaned, catching my wrist. Blood soaked his shirt, but he smiled. "That's my girl. Still got fire.

"You good now? She'll never come near you again. Let's call it quits, okay?"

I twisted the blade free in a spray of red, then drove it clean through his palm and pinned his hand to the counter. Leaning close, I whispered, "That woman's Henrietta Swain, nineteen, a freshman in finance at the University of Memphis.

"A year ago, some punks hassled her at the campus gate—she cried out to you for help. That's when it started.

"Delavan, you just love playing the hero, don't you?"

At the mention of Henrietta's name, his face drained of color. He stared at me, voice trembling. "Laura, do you have to go there?

"The ring's yours—I'll give it back. We'll get married, and the spot as my wife is yours forever.

"But don't forget: I'm the head of the Shadow Ravens."

I said nothing, just watched as his men helped him limp to the hospital.

Slowly, I uncurled my fist. The ring lay there in my palm, speckled with blood.

My chest tightened, as if a boulder had lodged itself beneath my ribs.

I sent him a message, my fingers shaking, "That dagger was the one you custom-made for me back then.

"Now, I'm giving it back.

"We're even from here on out."

Over the years, I'd sensed Delavan quietly guarding against me.

He would deliberately fail to notify me of crucial meetings, use the title as the leader of Shadow Ravens to skim profits, and secretly transfer assets overseas.

He even replaced the Shadow Ravens' core members one by one behind my back.

I'd confronted him, but he'd always brush it off. "Laura, it's all to keep you safe.

"We're both orphans, and you're gonna give me a baby someday. You don't need to get involved in the gang anymore."

His words pierced like a blade, targeting the softest parts of my heart.

Suddenly, nausea hit me hard; I bolted to the bathroom, retching violently.

The housemaid knocked softly. Miss Atkinson... you haven't had your cycle in eight weeks, have you? Do you think..."

It was then that the terrifying, sudden realization struck me: I might be... pregnant.

I rushed to the hospital for a check-up right away.

When I saw the words "eight weeks pregnant" on the report, a bitter irony washed over me.

Delavan had always longed for a child.

One year, during a mission, things went horribly wrong. To extract the key code from me, those bastards tortured me beyond recognition.

But I refused to break, no matter what. In the end, when they couldn't crack me, they threw me into the sea.

The saltwater rose inch by inch, swallowing me whole.

I thrashed desperately, my wrists raw and bleeding from the rough ropes, my skin blistering and rotting under the corrosive waves.

But through it all, one thought kept me alive: Delavan would come for me.

Just before I blacked out completely, he finally came.

His arms shook as he pulled me close, his voice hoarse with anguish. "Laurinda, why would you be so reckless?"

With my last ounce of strength, I forced a weak smile, whispering, "Because... I knew you'd come."

After that ordeal, I lost the ability to ever become a mother.

That was the first time I saw Delavan cry. He clutched his hair, growling over and over in a tortured whisper, "It's all my fault. If only I'd gotten there sooner... Just a little sooner..."

The incident became our deepest, most agonizing taboo, one neither of us dared to touch.

And yet, on this very day when everything between us shattered irreparably, that impossible child had arrived.

The irony was suffocating.

But if this child was meant to be mine, I wouldn't let go. Not ever.

Ever since my parents passed away, I'd craved a real family more than anything.

Once, I believed Delavan would be by my side forever. But he strayed midway, his heart wandering elsewhere.

If that was how it was, then he didn't deserve to be this child's father. I didn't need Delavan anymore—but I was keeping the baby.

Due to my condition, the doctor recommended I stay in the hospital for bed rest to protect the pregnancy.

As soon as I reached the ward, I heard Henrietta's sobs echoing. "Lavan, that woman is unbearable! After everything you've done for her, how could she treat you like this?"

Delavan sighed wearily. "That's just how she is. I've gotten used to it by now."

Henrietta's eyes were red and swollen as she pleaded, "Please, don't move, Lavan. It kills me to see you hurt."

"I'll ask no more. Just stay safe, be happy, and keep loving me—that's enough."

As she spoke, she pressed herself close to him and kissed Delavan's lips, which still held a smear of blood.

Delavan's body trembled slightly. Then, he cupped the back of her head, pulling her in deeper, returning the kiss with fierce, desperate passion.

I stood frozen at the doorway, feeling like someone had ripped a gaping hole right out of my chest.

Before this moment, I had never realized how gut-wrenchingly painful it would be to watch Delavan love another woman.

Just seeing that kiss tore me apart, leaving me writhing in agony.

Over the years, he and I had shared countless kisses.

In every moment teetering on the edge of death, we clung to each other.

Each time, he'd shield me in his arms and murmur, "Laura, if we don't make it through tomorrow, I pray we'll find each other in the next life."

I'd always thought we were each other's sole salvation in the abyss.

But now, in the fragile peace we'd fought for with our lives, he'd fallen for someone else.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside slowly.

I was so close I could hear the sound of their lips touching, the shallow rhythm of their breaths.

Finally, Delavan sensed something off and jerked his head up.

The moment his eyes met mine, the flush of desire vanished from them, replaced by sheer panic.

Before he could react, my fist connected squarely with his face.

Even in his shock, his first instinct was to shield the woman in his arms.

His freshly bandaged wound split open again, blood seeping through. Finally, he couldn't suppress it and groaned in pain.

Henrietta screamed, throwing herself in front of him. "Please, stop hurting Lavan! If you have to hit someone, hit me instead!"

I let out a cold, mocking laugh. Their display of devotion made my stomach churn.

"Oh, don't worry—you're next." With that, I swung my hand back and slapped her hard across the face.

Her frail body crumpled to the floor. As she tried to scramble up, I pinned her down with my foot.

"Next time you speak," I said icily, "figure out your place first."

Delavan, pale and trembling, grabbed my arm and gasped. "Laura, don't hurt her.

"I'm begging you—the position of my wife is yours. Etta won't take it from you!"

I actually laughed. Tilting my head, I looked at him with open scorn. "Delavan, do you really think I care about being your wife?"

The instant the words left my lips, I pressed down harder with my foot. Henrietta let out a guttural cry, spitting up a mouthful of blood.

In a flash, Delavan dropped his facade, roaring, "Laurinda, you've gone too far!"

He bellowed, "Guards! Get her off now!"

I spun toward them, shouting, "Don't you dare!"

Everyone froze, caught between fear and obedience.

I sneered and patted Delavan's pale cheek. "You think I want to be the wife of the Shadow Ravens' boss? You think that's what I'm after?

"I've never needed to lean on a man.

"I carved out half of Memphis with my own hands. What I want is to be the boss of the Shadow Ravens myself!"

With that, I ground my heel down viciously.

Henrietta's piercing scream cut off abruptly. She slumped, unconscious.

"Etta!" Delavan's eyes bulged with rage, his last thread of restraint snapping.

He lunged at me. Caught off guard, I took a brutal kick to my abdomen.

This time, he didn't hold back.

For her, he'd turned lethal against me.

I caught the blow with my arm, the impact numbing it to the bone. I stumbled back half a step.

Before I could steady myself, his fist came flying.

At the same time, Henrietta rose from the floor and hurled herself at me.

Her slap exploded across my face, leaving my skin burning.

Twisting my body with the momentum, I lashed out with my other foot, kicking her square in the face.

"Ah!" she wailed in agony.

Delavan lost it completely. He grabbed me in a savage over-the-shoulder throw, slamming me to the ground.

Then, he pinned me down, his hands clamping around my throat like a beast in fury. "Enough!"

My cheek pressed against the cold floor, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the ruthless determination in his stare.

Gritting his teeth, he spat out each word. "You don't want to be my wife, huh? Fine!

"In two weeks, I'll marry Etta. Make sure you show up!"

Those words stabbed into my heart like a dagger, twisting deep.

The words struck like a blade to my heart.

In a daze, memories flooded me.

I saw a boy in the midst of gunfire, cradling me with his bloodied, mangled arm, whispering, "Laura, I've got you. Don't be scared."

The memory surged like a violent tide, completely drowning me.

Tears slipped silently down my face, pooling on the floor. But this time, no one was there to wipe them away.

Finally, Delavan released me.

He turned, scooped Henrietta into his arms, and walked away without looking back.

The following days blurred into one another as I lay confined to the hospital bed.

My assistant, Nina Fowler, choked back tears as she vented her frustration. "If Mr. Rayne knew he'd nearly killed his own flesh and blood, do you think he'd regret it?"

My voice remained flat, devoid of any emotion. "A man like him? Regret doesn't exist in his dictionary."

"And this child," I added, my tone turning icy, "is mine alone from now on. Delavan has no claim to it!"

No sooner had the words left my lips than a knock echoed at the ward door. Nina went to check and returned clutching an invitation card.

Her voice seethed with indignation. "That Henrietta has no shame whatsoever!"

I had just taken the card from her when my phone buzzed with an unknown number.

Answering it, Henrietta's smug, mocking voice slithered through. "Laurinda, you must have gotten the invitation by now, right?

"How's it feel? Bet you're fuming, aren't you?"

"I'll have you know, Lavan and I are throwing the grandest wedding Memphis has ever seen!

"He custom-ordered my wedding ring—worth the price of ten high-rises!

"You can tell how much a man loves a woman by how much he's willing to spend on her.

"I hear he never even bought you so much as a single dress?"

"Laurinda, no matter how tough you are, what good is it? Men crave delicate women like me!

"Oh, and by the way, there's a little gift tucked inside that invitation just for you..."

I had no interest in her games and just hung up.

Yet curiosity gnawed at me, and I couldn't resist tearing open the envelope. A USB drive tumbled out.

Plugging it into my laptop, the files that popped up sent a shiver racing down my spine.

Beside me, Nina's eyes widened in shock. "This... how is this possible? Back then, wasn't it all..."

I stared at the screen, my jaw clenched as I ordered. "Go investigate it!"

Emboldened by Delavan's favoritism, Henrietta began flaunting their upcoming nuptials with brazen flair.

She deliberately chose the day Delavan brought her home to go live on stream.

Strutting into the living room like she owned the place, she held her head high. Her fingers trailed over the furniture and the artwork on the walls, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "This all looks so outdated and stuffy. I hate it. Lavan, can we replace everything?"

Delavan pulled her close, planting an indulgent kiss on the crown of her head. "Whatever you say, darling."

A triumphant grin spread across Henrietta's face.

When she reached my room, her eyes were a mix of surprise and raw greed.

She rifled through my jewelry boxes one by one, the treasured gems sparkling brilliantly under the lights.

A flicker of admiration crossed her gaze, but she quickly masked it with a pout, turning to the camera with feigned disdain. "Ugh, these are hideous. His ex has zero taste."

The comment section of the live stream instantly erupted. "What the hell? That emerald piece looks like a museum-grade collection!"

"She just called a Van Cleef & Arpels limited edition ugly? Give me a break."

"She's drooling with envy—I can see it in her eyes."

"Delavan must've lost his mind. How could he leave Laurinda for this clown?"

Henrietta's hired bots scrambled to flood the comments. "Etta's stunning!"

"Mr. Rayne spoils her rotten, and she deserves it!"

"Etta's just refreshingly honest, unlike some scheming witches!"

But the tide was turning fast. The public backlash drowned out her paid supporters.

Henrietta's composure cracked, her face twisting in fury as she jabbed a finger at the room and barked at the butler. "Get rid of all this junk! I want everything replaced—now!"

The butler remained unflappable. "I'm sorry, but this is Ms. Atkinson's room. Without her permission, nothing moves."

Henrietta's temper snapped. She hurled a glass to the floor, shrieking, "I'm about to marry Delavan! I'm the real lady of this house!"

A faint, icy smile tugged at the butler's lips as he replied evenly, "It seems there's a misunderstanding. The deed to this villa is in Ms. Atkinson's name.

"Mr. Rayne is merely a temporary resident here.

"And since you've entered private property without authorization and caused damage, I've already called the police."

The butler said coldly, "Everything you've said and done has been fully captured on surveillance."

His gaze drifted to the shattered glass on the floor, his tone eerily calm. "That cup you just smashed is worth 6,000 dollars. That meets the threshold for a criminal charge of intentional property damage."

The live feed froze on Henrietta's suddenly ashen face, then the screen went black.

It didn't take long for Henrietta and Delavan to explode onto trending lists.

Her stunned, contorted expression was meme-ified, spreading like wildfire across the internet.

The police arrived swiftly, escorting Delavan and Henrietta away from my place.

Delavan was bailed out by his lawyers in a flash, but Henrietta wasn't so fortunate.

Because I refused to accept any apology, she was held for several extra days.

Delavan ached for her, no doubt, but he had bigger fires to fight.

His company's stock plummeted in response. And at the gang's council meeting, several elders openly challenged his leadership.

When I pushed open the door and stepped into the conference room in my high heels, the clamor and noise instantly evaporated.

Delavan's eyes blazed with resentment and fury. "Laurinda, is this your revenge on me?"

I stared at him blankly, my face a mask of indifference. "That idiot started the live stream herself, and you were the one who dragged her into my villa uninvited.

"You practically handed me the knife on a silver platter. It'd be a shame not to twist it in deep."

Delavan was furious down to his molars, but he had no legal recourse in that moment. He ground his teeth and demanded, "You're the one who refused to marry me!

"Just say yes right now, and I'll ship Etta out of the country this instant!"

I lazily lifted my gaze, offering a half-hearted "Hmm" in response.

Delavan softened his tone, pleading, "Laura, why push it this far?"

He gave a subtle hand gesture, and suddenly, a group of unfamiliar bodyguards, all clad in black, flooded in through the back door of the conference room.

A smug curl tugged at Delavan's lips. "Come on, don't be so surprised. Those old traitors who played both sides? They were nothing but liabilities anyway."

"Laura, a decade's gone by. I am no longer the penniless street urchin who relied on the Atkinson family's charity.

"Why don't we both take a step back and reforge our alliance?"

I arched an eyebrow, realizing his game: he was trying to corner me into submission.

Bypassing him entirely, I sauntered to the head of the table and claimed the main seat. "So, how do you plan to handle Ms. Swain?"

"I... I'll leave quietly, I promise." Henrietta emerged timidly from behind the bodyguards, her lips quivering, eyes brimming with tears as she gazed at Delavan.

"Lavan, for you, I'd do anything.

"All I want is a wedding. Just grant me this one last wish, please?"

I raised my hand with a subtle gesture.

My people sprang forward, pinning Henrietta's arms in place.

Nina slapped her across the face with a resounding crack.

I sneered, "Delavan, your pet needs to be taught a lesson. What do you think?"

Delavan didn't even blink. Turning to Henrietta with icy composure, he said, "Etta, apologize to Laura right now."

Henrietta wailed, "Lavan!"

Delavan said nothing; his gaze remained frozen, unmoved.

Tears streaming down her face, Henrietta choked out her apology in utter humiliation. "Ms. Atkinson, please... let me have this one dream."

Delavan leaned in close, his voice coaxing. "It's just to give her some comfort, that's all."

I grabbed his chin, my nails digging in, and slapped him hard across the face with a sharp sting.

Delavan's head was snapped sideways by the blow, and my fingernails left a thin, crimson scratch below his jawline.

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, letting out a tsk of irritation.

A flash of savagery crossed his eyes, but he quickly smothered the anger, turning to Henrietta with a chilling command. "Slap yourself until Laura agrees."

Everyone in the room was paralyzed with fear, not daring to utter a sound. In the absolute silence, the only thing heard was the agonizing rhythm of Henrietta slapping her own face.

"Please, all I want is a wedding.

"Please, stop pushing Lavan like this.

"Please, have some pity on us!"

I watched Delavan, my heart heavy with disillusionment. "After all these years, you still don't know me at all.

"I only soften for people I truly care about.

"Do you really think you two qualify?"

Delavan's Adam's apple bobbed, a murderous glint creeping into his eyes.

But I was oblivious to the looming threat. "You want a wedding? Fine. If you shed this luxurious life and crawl back under the flyover bridge to be a beggar again, then I'll agree.

"You think you can use the status and money I gave you to keep your mistress? You must be dreaming!"

Before the words even left my lips, Delavan and I lunged at each other simultaneously.

His hands shot toward my throat in a vise-like grip; I drove my heel viciously into his groin.

Henrietta, her face covered in blood, screamed in terror.

Bodyguards from both sides clashed in a frenzy of fists and fury, while Henrietta scrambled desperately on the floor, dodging stamping feet in her bid to escape.

Nina fought tooth and nail to shove a knife into my hand, just as Delavan yanked a concealed dagger from his coat.

My blade plunged into the old scar on his shoulder, reopening the wound with a gush of crimson.

His blade nearly pierced my stomach, the tip grazing my skin in a burning threat.

At the critical moment, Nina hurled herself at him with reckless abandon.

His weapon clattered to the floor. Delavan kicked her savagely, sending her crashing into the conference table behind. She slumped to the ground, limp and motionless.

Seizing the opening, I circled behind him, pressing my blood-slicked knife firmly against his throat.

Delavan panted heavily, his voice a hoarse rasp as he chuckled. "Laura, do you really have it in you to kill me?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "My father always said—show no mercy to traitors!"

In the next heartbeat, I tightened my grip on the knife, but Delavan rammed backward with brutal force.

Worried for the child in my belly, I instinctively guarded my stomach and stepped back.

Delavan bolted to safety, hauling Henrietta off the floor and into his arms in one swift motion.

He spat a mouthful of bloody foam, smirking defiantly at me. "This wedding? It's happening, no matter what.

"Laurinda, take a few days to calm down. Think it over: besides me, which man would tolerate you?"

Nina came to eventually. When she woke, she clung to me, sobbing. "Ms. Atkinson, I just don't get it—why is Mr. Rayne so hell-bent on protecting Henrietta?"

I sighed, patting her back gently. "Silly girl, don't you see? Henrietta's nothing but an excuse."

At first, I thought he'd grown weary of the bloodshed, enchanted by Henrietta's youthful innocence.

I figured he reveled in her dependence, addicted to the ego boost of being worshipped.

These past few days, I'd deliberately provoked him, step by escalating step—pushing him to the brink, even using myself as bait to test his limits.

In the shadows, I'd dispatched investigators, gathering scraps of evidence that were piecing together a chilling puzzle.

Delavan's protectiveness toward Henrietta went far beyond mere infatuation.

It was obsessive, bordering on madness—way outside the realm of simple romance. It seemed like, for some twisted reason, he had no choice but to shield her at all costs.

So, Henrietta wasn't just his fling; she was an indispensable pawn in his grand, sinister scheme!

My mother used to say wealth and desire could destroy a person, and the only thing we could truly keep was ourselves.

I believed Delavan once was loyal. But that didn't mean I would forgive the man he's become.

Staring at the pitch-black sky outside the window, my voice came out cold and steady. "He just needed an excuse. He's using this so-called affair to hide what he's really doing.

"He wants to get rid of me—and bury the truth about what happened back then."

Henrietta wasn't a lover. She was his shield.

And the perfect bait to provoke me.

But Delavan had underestimated me.

The wedding took place on a private island overseas, with guests flown in on chartered jets.

They'd sent me an invitation—then did everything possible to keep me from showing up.

When the wedding march began, the massive screen lit up with their photos.

Petals rained from the sky. Delavan stood beneath the spotlight, wearing a custom-tailored suit, his face as striking as ever.

It was a scene I'd dreamed of a thousand times in the last decade.

He walked slowly down the aisle, smiling that practiced, tender smile.

Taking Henrietta's trembling hand, he kissed her forehead gently. "Don't cry, silly girl," he whispered.

The guests erupted into cheers.

But he soon realized something was off.

The bride didn't move. Tears streamed down her face, streaking her makeup.

Her expression twisted—not with joy, but with terror.

"Etta? You..."

Delavan's words died in his throat.

I ripped off my disguise as a staff member, revealing my true face beneath the veil.

The crowd gasped. My gun was pressed firmly against Henrietta's lower back.

Delavan froze, horror dawning in his eyes. I met Delavan's stunned gaze with a satisfied smirk. "Surprised to see me? Didn't you send me the invitation yourself?"

I raised the red envelope in my hand and flicked my fingers, revealing the photograph tucked behind it.

In the picture, I was tattered, broken, and secured by heavy chains, looking like a discarded, ruined ragdoll.

Delavan went pale in shock. "How did you get that..."

He suddenly registered the betrayal and turned to Henrietta, his voice laced with fury and disbelief. "It was you!"

She nearly collapsed. "I... I just wanted to get back at her..." she stammered.

I dangled the photo lazily. "During those years Delavan was blind, I was the one who cared for him. I know every inch of his skin, every faint scar, like the back of my hand. So tell me..."

My voice dropped to a whisper—then exploded. "So tell me, Delavan..."

"Why were you among those men?

"Why did they bow to you?

"After they tortured me into unconsciousness—who was the one who burst in and violated me?"

Delavan's face drained to a ghostly pallor, his defense feeble. "Laura, I had no choice... There were reasons..."

I pressed the trigger down hard. The shot rang out, and a red bloom opened on Henrietta's thigh.