Ninety-Nine Engagements, One Betrayal
After ninety-nine failed engagements, I finally married Brooks Preston, a stoic tech mogul who seemed to be the only man on earth who found my motormouth personality "charming."
But his quiet acceptance was a lie. I was just a convenient prop, a wife he needed to hide his obsessive, incestuous love for his adopted sister, Everleigh.
When I discovered their secret and demanded a divorce, he locked me in a dark, windowless room, weaponizing my childhood claustrophobia to break me. He needed me to take the fall for Everleigh's crimes, to protect her at all costs.
He watched me scream and claw at the walls for three days, my terror a spectacle for his cold, calculating eyes. He wasn't just indifferent; he was a monster.
I didn't break. Instead, I waited. On the night of a live-streamed gala, I looked into the camera and smiled. "Everleigh, darling, congratulations. I've already divorced him. He's all yours."
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Chapter 8
Dayna POV:
The absurdity of his accusation was almost laughable. Me? Putting Everleigh up to stealing a painting? I had been heartbroken, yes, but never malicious. He truly knew nothing about me.
"Are you insane?" I shot back, my voice rising. "Why would I do something like that? And why would Everleigh listen to me, of all people? She despises me!"
He took a step closer, his hands clamping down on my shoulders, his grip tight, almost bruising. "Don't play coy, Dayna! I know you're upset. But this is not the way to handle it. You think you can hurt me by hurting Everleigh?"
I struggled against his grip, but he held me fast. "Let go of me, Brooks! You're hurting me!"
He ignored my plea. "You will go to the precinct right now. You will tell them the painting was a gift from you. A misunderstanding. Say whatever you need to, but get her out of there!"
My blood ran cold. He wanted me to lie. To take the fall. To protect Everleigh, again. The ultimate betrayal. My sister's legacy, once more, trampled underfoot for Everleigh's convenience.
"No," I said, my voice trembling with defiance. "I won't. I won't lie for her. I won't protect her. She has to face the consequences of her actions."
His eyes blazed with a fury I had never witnessed. "You will, Dayna. You will do this for me. For us." His voice dropped, a dangerous edge to it. "Or there will be consequences."
A sudden, primal rage surged through me. I brought my teeth down hard on his arm, biting him with all my might. He cried out, a guttural sound, and released me. A faint line of blood appeared on his forearm.
He looked at the mark, then back at me, his eyes narrowed. "You really are determined to be difficult, aren't you?" He shook his head, a chilling certainty in his voice. "Fine. If you won't do it willingly, I'll make you."
"I'll kill myself first!" I screamed, the words a desperate, empty threat.
He scoffed. A cold, dismissive sound. "No, you won't, Dayna. You're too much of a talker to ever be truly silent. You're too full of life to end it. Besides," he leaned in close, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, "you love me too much. You would never do anything to truly hurt me."
His words, meant to wound, had the opposite effect. A sudden, terrifying clarity washed over me. He was right. I wouldn't kill myself. I wouldn't. Because he wasn't worth it. And in that moment, something shifted inside me. The desperation, the clinging love, began to curdle into a cold, hard resolve. I would leave him. I would reclaim myself.
"You're right," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. "I won't kill myself."
A flicker of triumph crossed his face. He thought he had won. He thought he had broken me.
"But I'm not going to the precinct," I continued, my voice gaining strength. "And I'm not doing anything for you, or for Everleigh, ever again." With a fierce shove, I pushed him away.
He stumbled back, his face paling. The look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated rage. He punched a fist against the wall, a sickening thud. "Fine, Dayna! You want to play hardball? We'll play hardball!" He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. "Jenkins! Get over here! Now! And prepare the isolation room. Our esteemed Mrs. Preston needs some time to reflect."
He turned back to me, his eyes cold and hard. "You think you can defy me? You think you can walk away? You'll stay here, Dayna. Until you learn your place. Until you agree to do what's necessary." He walked out, his parting words echoing in the sudden silence. "And don't even think about trying to escape. Every door, every window, is locked. Consider this your personal rehabilitation."