10 p.m., pouring rain.
A deafening crash echoed through the countryside road—two cars collided hard. The front one flipped and slammed into the mountain.
Vivienne Connolly crawled from the wreckage, drenched in blood.
Thunder cracked again, and lightning ripped across the dark sky, lighting up her scar-streaked face.
“Beatrice!”
She gritted her teeth, her eyes locked onto the black car that had rammed straight into her.
The door swung open.
Beatrice Connolly stepped out with a barbed whip in hand, her face twisted into a cruel, chilling grin.
“Vivienne Connolly! Where do you think you're going?”
“Don’t forget—Connolly Group’s gone, your beloved brothers are all dead! And Sebastian Finley, the man who loved you most? Burned to death!”
“There’s no one left to protect you.”
“You're not the pampered second daughter of the Connollys anymore—”
She snapped the whip across Vivienne’s face with a sneer. “—you're nothing but a mutt under my feet!”
Vivienne’s pupils shrank. Her fingers dug into the muddy ground, the pain on her torn-up face barely compared to the agony in her chest from Beatrice’s words.
How was the woman before her—her actual sister?
She used to trust her more than anyone.
But it was Beatrice who destroyed their family business, threw their mother into a psych ward, and locked her in a dark room, only to finally confess that the deaths of all three brothers were meticulously planned by none other than her.
“Why… Beatrice? Isn’t the Connolly family your home too?”
Vivienne’s voice trembled, raw from emotion and blood. Every word dripped with heartbreak.
“Ha! The Connollys were never my family!”
In Beatrice’s eyes, hatred flared to life.
“They never accepted me! Mom and Dad adored you but barely looked at me. The brothers always had eyes for you—never me!”
“I know they weren’t kind to you, but I tried to make up for that,” Vivienne murmured. “Every song I wrote, every piece I painted—I gave all the credit to you. I never fought you for anything, I never—”
“Shut up! I don’t need your crumbs! It’s all fake!”
The whip cracked again and again across Vivienne’s back.
Rain mixed with blood, streaking through the mud like a twisted painting.
“Well, sweetheart, done playing yet?”
A man’s voice casually rang out, laced with mockery.
Vivienne barely lifted her head, only to see Nathaniel Mason strolling over, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a black umbrella.
He held the umbrella over Beatrice, shielding her from the storm, then looked down at Vivienne like she was dirt.
“Vivienne, what were you thinking running away? You know your sister’s pregnant, right? Not very considerate of you, huh?”
Vivienne stared at him, struggling for breath—that same polished, charming face she once loved for years now looked like a complete stranger.
“Nathaniel! You were using me all along?”
“Finally figured it out?” Nathaniel scoffed, handing Beatrice the umbrella before squatting in front of Vivienne and grabbing her chin roughly. “What took you so long?”
Vivienne’s eyes burned. “What did I ever do to deserve this from you?”
“You were cheap. And Sebastian Finley? He liked cheap girls like you.”
His smirk darkened, words laced with poison—so different from the man he used to be.
“Every trap I set, you walked right in. And Sebastian? He paid every single time. Money, contacts—even pieces of his company. In the end, he gave up his life for you.”
“If it weren’t for you, I'd have never dared to go after Finley’s empire.”
Vivienne’s heart stopped cold. Her face turned ghostly pale.So... it was all lies?
Sebastian Finley hadn't been lying. Every single word he said was true.
But she'd never believed him.
Nathaniel Mason clicked his tongue, looking at her with mock pity. "Tsk, tsk. Sebastian risked his damn life for you, and you just tossed that aside like trash. Seriously, are you brain-dead or just heartless? I swear, he must’ve been blind to fall for someone like you."
Vivienne Connolly felt like her chest got ripped open—pain hit her full force. Tears welled up and ran down her cheeks without warning.
Yeah... Sebastian had died in the fire—he’d traded himself to save her from those kidnappers.
"So..." She shot a glare at Nathaniel, eyes burning with rage, voice low and shaking. "When are you gonna pay for killing him?"
In one swift move, she slashed the hidden piece of broken glass toward his neck.
But Nathaniel jerked his head just in time.
Instead of his throat, the glass only left a gash on his cheek.
"Vivienne!" His face twisted in fury as he kicked her hard.
A sickening thud followed.
She crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach, blood pouring out of her mouth.
Her head was spinning, whole body light as air, like she could pass out any second.
Every cut on her body was screaming in pain.
"Tsk, tsk! What gives you the right to be angry?" Beatrice Connolly sneered, walking over in her stilettos. She ground Vivienne’s face into the muddy water with her heel.
"You dragged the Finley family down with you, remember? Sebastian’s dead ‘cause of you. If anyone’s a murderer here, it’s you."
"Why bother keeping a waste of air like you around? Nathaniel, wrap it up."
"My pleasure," he said, swiping the blood from his cheek, then yanked the shard of glass from her hand and plunged it straight into her neck.
Blood splattered.
Vivienne let out a soft, broken whimper. Her eyes widened in shock, full of regret and disbelief.
What a mess.
She'd always gone her own way, never really knew who was good or bad.
The people who truly cared about her died for her.
And the ones she cared about... wanted her dead.
Sorry, Bros… Mom… Dad.
Sebastian… I'm so sorry…
This life ends here.
Maybe next time…
—
"Sebastian Finley!"
Vivienne jerked awake.
White ceiling, bright lights—it stung her eyes.
A hospital?
Wait… did she get saved?
If that's the case, she had to go after Nathaniel and Beatrice again. Even if it meant going down with them, she had to make sure it was the end for them this time.
With that thought, she bolted upright from the bed.
Just as her feet touched the floor, the door opened.
A graceful woman stepped in.
Their eyes met.
Margaret Quinn’s face lit up. "Vivie? You’re awake?"
Vivienne froze, lips parting slightly. Her voice was weirdly hesitant. "Mom?"
What the hell?
Wasn't Mom drugged to "commit suicide" in the psych ward after Beatrice set her up?
"Vivie, sweetheart..." Margaret rushed over and wrapped her tightly in a hug, sobbing with relief. "Don’t you ever scare me like that again—how could you do this to me?"
Vivienne melted into the familiar warmth and safe embrace, her own tears falling fast.
As her vision blurred, she caught a glimpse of her wrist covered in gauze.
That wasn’t her hand. It was too untouched, too clean—no scars.
So… she hadn’t been locked up or tortured yet? Mom was still alive?
She hadn't been saved.
She’d been reborn.
Vivienne's gaze snapped to the calendar on the wall, heart slamming against her ribs.
After the shock came the flood of memory.
If she was remembering right, this was five years ago—just one month before her and Sebastian’s engagement.