Chapter 1: Betrayed by Blood and Bone

After two years of being trapped by Sebastian Whitmore, I gave birth to his child.

I remember the hush that fell over the estate when the news broke—like the world had stopped spinning for just a second. Everyone held their breath. Even the housekeepers, who usually whispered behind closed doors, watched me with a strange new respect, as if I’d finally given in to the Whitmore name.

Everyone thought I had finally given in—that I was no longer stubborn, no longer obsessed with running away. But they didn’t know me. Not really.

But they were wrong. Behind the manicured hedges and gilded walls, I held onto something they couldn’t see. At night, I’d sit by Nora’s little bed and whisper stories about freedom—about crossing state lines with nothing but a backpack, about choosing your own name, about the right to say no. I wanted her to know she could always say no.

I taught her to question everything, to look for ways out, even when the world tried to lock every door.

On the fourth night after I took her and ran from the Whitmore estate, his men tracked us down, following the trail of her favorite candy wrappers she’d left behind.

I should have known she’d never learned to hide her tracks—she was just a little girl, after all. I’d been desperate, carrying her through back roads and sleeping in cheap motels, but they still found us. It was like the Whitmores had eyes everywhere, even in the cracks of the city sidewalks.

The little girl I had raised looked up at me, confusion in her eyes. “Auntie, isn’t Daddy good to you?” she asked. “Why do you want to leave?”

Her voice was so soft in the dark, it almost broke me. She clung to her little stuffed bunny, the one she’d refused to leave behind, even when I told her we had to pack light. For a second, I almost forgot why we were running. But I couldn’t forget. Not really.

The night was bitter, the wind sharp as knives. I held Nora close as we hurried toward the ferry dock, the boat still rocking at the pier.

Every step on the old wooden planks echoed in the cold air. I could see my breath, white and shaky, as I pressed Nora’s head against my shoulder. The river was black and wide. The kind of water that swallowed sound—and hope.

Nora nestled in my arms, her clear eyes quietly watching me.

She was such a gentle child. Even after traveling with me all the way from the city, hiding and sleeping rough for days, she never complained.

Not once did she whine about being hungry, or ask for her toys, or beg to go home. She just watched me, trusting me to lead her somewhere safe, her little fingers curled around my sleeve. I didn’t deserve that kind of trust.

I tried to smile for her. “Nora, once we get on that boat, no one will ever find us. I’ll take you somewhere safe. Everything will be better.”

I wanted to believe it myself. I wanted to believe that somewhere across the water, there was a place where the Whitmores couldn’t reach us, where we could start over and breathe without fear. My voice shook. I held her tighter, hoping she couldn’t hear the lie underneath.

Nora just played with her fingers, silent.

She always did that when she was scared—twisting the hem of her sleeve, braiding her own hair, anything to keep her hands busy. I remembered teaching her that trick, back when storms used to wake her in the night.

A faint, mocking laugh drifted over the water with the wind. My blood ran cold.

It sent chills down my spine. That laugh—low, cold, and so out of place—made the hair on my arms stand up. I spun around, heart pounding, searching the shadows for movement.

I froze. The boat’s shadow grew. It loomed over us like some monstrous beast, ready to swallow us whole.

The air felt electric, the kind of charged silence that comes before a tornado. For a split second, I thought about running, but my legs wouldn’t move.

Sebastian stepped off the boat, his men fanning out behind him, blocking every escape. I heard the heavy thud of his boots on the wood, breath curling in the cold night air.

They moved with military precision, boots crunching on gravel, their faces unreadable behind the glow of the dock lights. Sebastian stood at the center, the calm in the eye of the storm. He was exactly the man from my nightmares.

Under the harsh glow of the dock lights, Sebastian wore a dark wool coat and a silver cufflink glinting at his wrist, his eyes cold and deep, unreadable.

He looked like he’d stepped out of an old family portrait—impossibly composed, not a hair out of place, as if he belonged to another century. The silver cufflink caught the light, a tiny flash that reminded me how expensive and untouchable he really was.

I shielded Nora, my hand trembling inside my jacket sleeve. I could barely keep my hand steady.

I could feel my pulse hammering in my throat. My free hand fumbled for the knife I’d hidden—just in case. But I knew it wouldn’t matter. There were too many of them. I was just one woman with a child.

Nine months of planning, gone in four days. How?

Every map, every bus ticket, every fake name—I’d gone over it all a hundred times. It didn’t matter. Sebastian always seemed to be one step ahead, like he could read my mind.

All the strength drained out of me. I closed my eyes. Despair washed over me.

I wanted to scream, to fight, but all I could do was hold Nora tighter. My knees nearly buckled. No air. No hope. Just cold water closing in.

“Sebastian, have you had people watching me this whole time? Did you watch me struggle, thinking I was about to get away—did you find that fun?”

My voice cracked. I wanted to sound angry, but it came out small, broken. I hated that he could still make me feel so powerless.

“Lena, you always think I’m the villain,” Sebastian sighed softly, his eyes flashing with a cruel glint.

His tone was almost gentle, like he pitied me. But that glint in his eyes said otherwise—he enjoyed this, the chase, the struggle. It was all a game to him.

Before I could say anything, I felt Nora squirming to get down.

Her little hands pushed at my arms, her face determined. She was braver than I’d ever been at her age.

Once she stood steady, she looked up at me. “Don’t be mad at Daddy anymore,” she said. “I was the one who sent word to the guards and asked them to come find us.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at her, not understanding, not wanting to believe it. My mind went blank.

I stared at the child I had raised with such care.

All those nights spent teaching her about right and wrong, about loyalty and trust—it felt like they’d been wiped away in an instant. My chest ached. Had it all been for nothing?

She looked up at me, still confused.

She didn’t understand. She couldn’t. Her world was small, safe, built on the lies Sebastian had spun for her. I wanted to reach her, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Auntie, isn’t Daddy good to you? Why do you want to leave?”

Maybe the pain of the last few years had wrung all the tears out of me. My face was numb, unable to show any emotion.

I felt hollow, like a ghost watching her own life from outside her body. I couldn’t even cry. I just stood there, arms limp at my sides.

She ran to Sebastian, smiling. Waiting for his praise.

She looked so small next to him, her little hand reaching for his. He bent down, ruffling her hair, and she beamed up at him, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me.

The river slapped the shore. I stood there, feeling the cold seep into my bones with every breath. I’d never felt so empty.

Every wave sounded like a warning. Like the world itself was telling me to give up. My fingers ached from gripping the edge of my coat.

Across the darkness, Sebastian watched me, a hint of mockery in his eyes. He didn’t even need to speak.

He was always like this. Watching me struggle, like a cat with a mouse.

He liked to see how long I’d fight. How far I’d run before he reeled me back in. Every time, he made sure I knew just how powerless I really was.

Nora was gone. It was just us.

The silence was suffocating. The world outside blurred by, headlights casting long shadows across the leather seats. I kept my eyes on the floor, counting the seconds until it was over. My hands clenched in my lap.

Sebastian put his hand on my shoulder, pushing me down so I was forced to kneel at his feet on the floor of the car.

The gesture was deliberate, humiliating. I could feel the weight of his hand, heavy and inescapable. Like I was nothing.

My cheek pressed against the hem of his coat. My vision blurred. All I could hear was his rough, malicious voice.

The scent of his cologne filled my nose, sharp and expensive. I tried not to gag. Tried not to think about how close I was to him. How trapped.

“Admit what you did, and maybe I’ll forget these last few days ever happened.”

His words were ice-cold, the kind that cut deeper than any knife. He wanted me to beg. To surrender. To erase the last bit of dignity I had left.

Sebastian’s fingers slipped into my hair, gently combing through it twice. I flinched, but he didn’t stop.

For a moment, I remembered when those hands had seemed gentle—when I’d convinced myself he could change. Now they just felt like chains. Heavy and cold.

My head buzzed. I fought the urge to throw up. Then, quick as I could, I reached into my sleeve for a small knife and stabbed at Sebastian’s thigh.

The blade barely broke the skin. It wasn’t enough.

It was desperate. Clumsy. Weak. The knife glanced off his thigh, barely drawing blood.

In the next instant, Sebastian grabbed my wrist. The pain was blinding as he forced the bloodied knife into the car’s carpet, saying nothing.

His grip was iron, crushing the bones in my hand. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My heart pounded in my ears.

He looked down at me. Anger flashed in his eyes.

For a second, I saw the real Sebastian. The one who didn’t care about rules. Or consequences. Who would do anything to keep control.

He sighed. “Lena, why can’t you just do as you’re told?”

The words stung more than the pain in my wrist. I glared up at him, refusing to answer. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.