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F*CK HIM!

I hate him to the core.

Does he really think I’ll break from his threats? That I’ll crumble beneath his words?

W-Well… maybe a little.

But I won’t let him see it.

If there’s truly no escape from Yohan, then fine—I’ll accept my fate. But I refuse to be pathetic. I am Cosette Blanche Allen, President of Allen Company. A strong woman. No matter what he's planning, he won’t destroy me that easily.

But right now?

Right now, I just want to be alone.

I don’t want to leave this room. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want them to witness me like this—weak, crying, breaking apart.

Because the moment they see my vulnerability, they’ll use it against me.

I sit on my bed, leaning against the headboard, my eyes shut.

I’ve cried for so long, I think I’ve run out of tears.

The silence is heavy, almost comforting—until a knock on my door shatters it.

I don’t move.

I don’t answer.

I meant it when I said I wanted to be alone. I’m drained, empty, and exhausted. Whoever it is, they can wait.

"Setta, are you still asleep?" Geneva.

I keep my eyes closed, feigning sleep, though my heart clenches at the sound of her voice.

Her wedding is tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Time slipped away so fast, and I—I didn’t stop it. I couldn’t.

And now, I’m trapped too. Just like her.

Why am I so stupid?

If I could turn back time, I would have fought harder. I would have done something—anything—to change this outcome.

Geneva speaks again, her voice softer this time. "Setta, I know you're going through something. And I know you don’t want anyone to see it. But please remember—no matter what happens, I’m here for you. I'm your sister, and I will always be by your side. If you need me, just call. Please."

A pause.

Then—

"I hope you’ll come to my wedding, Setta. I need you there. I love you forever."

Something inside me shatters.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, my shoulders shaking as silent sobs wrack through me.

Why?

Why was I given this life?

I’ve always been good. I’ve done everything my parents asked—especially Dad.

I gave up my dreams.

I followed every order.

I sacrificed my happiness just to be worthy in his eyes.

But why?

Why am I still not allowed to be happy?

Was I such a terrible person in another life that I’m being punished for it now?

I hate this.

I hate my life.

A sharp pain stabs through my skull, forcing me to clutch my head. The familiar ache makes me groan. I stagger to my feet, rummaging through my drawer until I find my medicine.

I swallow it quickly, but the pain in my chest lingers.

Because no medicine can cure this.

No medicine can erase the past.

Five years ago…

I had resented my father for forcing me into a future I never wanted. No matter how hard I begged, no matter how much I tried, he refused to listen.

So, for the first time in my life, I rebelled.

I called Franklin—my only friend—and we ran away.

We didn’t have a plan.

We just drove.

The road stretched endlessly before us, the wind rushing past, and for the first time in forever, I felt free.

And then—I made the biggest mistake of my life.

I drank.

I drank while driving.

I thought I could handle it. I thought I was still in control.

But then the dizziness hit.

Then—the crash.

The impact sent the world spinning. The sound of shattering glass, Franklin’s scream, the sickening crunch of metal—it all played in a horrific loop inside my head.

I was the one who suffered the worst injuries.

Even now, I still get the headaches. I still go to check-ups. And no one—not even my family—knows the truth.

Only Franklin.

And me.

That was the moment I realized it.

No matter what I do—no matter how hard I try—I will never be free.

Maybe this is my fate.

Maybe this is the life I was meant to endure.

Maybe the only thing left to do… is accept it.

Even if it suffocates me.

-

My sister is now Geneva Whitmore.

She married Harrison Pierre Whitmore in an intimate ceremony at the Whitmore family's private resort. Aunt Ezra had originally insisted on a grand church wedding, but Geneva stood her ground—she wanted it to be private, and no one could change her mind.

Everything had been arranged for her, down to the last detail. As her maid of honor, I stood by her side, watching as she took the biggest step of her life.

And I cried.

Not because I was sad.

But because I couldn’t believe that the sister I had protected, the one I had taken care of for so long, was now married.

She was someone else’s now.

But as I looked at Harrison, I found comfort in knowing that Geneva had chosen a good man. He loves her—I can see it in his eyes, in the way he holds her hand, in the way he watches her as if she’s the most precious thing in the world.

And that’s all I could ever want for her.

After the wedding, Geneva left home to start her new life with Harrison. I stood at the gate, watching her car disappear down the road, waving through my tears.

And for the first time, I realized—I was alone.

No more Geneva to confide in. No more sister to shield me from the suffocating walls of this house.

But for both our sakes, I had to be strong.

"Now that my youngest daughter's wedding is over, we can finally start planning the grand wedding of my favorite daughter—Cosette."

Dad’s voice pulled me back to reality.

I sat stiffly in his office, staring at the polished mahogany desk instead of looking at the man across from me. He had called me here, but what I didn’t expect was for Yohan to already be present, sitting silently across the room.

So Dad had called him, too.

"Cosette, hire a wedding coordinator," Dad continued, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "I want your wedding to be extravagant. Everyone in the business world must be invited. The President should be on the guest list, and don’t forget Boone Gonzalez—he’s my good friend. He’ll bring the politicians, too."

He was excited.

Excited about my wedding.

A wedding I never wanted.

I couldn’t even bring myself to fake a smile. Geneva had just left, just started her new life—and here I was, about to be thrown into my own nightmare.

"Mr. Allen."

The deep voice made both Dad and me turn.

Yohan had barely spoken since I arrived, sitting in quiet contemplation. But now, his expression was unreadable, his gaze sharp.

I saw a flicker of unease cross Dad’s face before he masked it.

"What is it, son?" Dad asked, forcing a smile.

Yohan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don’t want a grand wedding," he said flatly. "I hate it."

I blinked, taken aback.

Dad's face twisted in shock. "S-Son, why?" he stammered. "The wedding of my favorite daughter has to be grand! I’m willing to spend as much as it takes to announce to the world that she’s getting married!"

I lowered my head.

Favorite.

He only calls me that because I’m useful to him.

Because I help his business.

Because he has no other daughter but Geneva and me.

This wasn’t about love. It was about showing off.

"And what if I don’t want a grand wedding with your daughter, sir?" Yohan's voice was cool, taunting. "What will you do then?"

I lifted my eyes to Yohan, surprised at his defiance.

He was staring straight at Dad, one brow raised in mockery.

And for the first time…

I wondered if he hated this as much as I did.

I saw the flicker of restrained anger in Dad’s eyes, but to my surprise, he forced a smile instead of snapping at Yohan.

"S-Sure, son. Whatever you want—that's fine with us. Right, dear?"

His gaze shifted to me, catching me off guard. I felt the weight of Yohan’s sharp stare, but I refused to meet it. The intensity of his eyes was suffocating, like he was dissecting my every move.

I swallowed hard. "A-Anything is okay with me, Dad," I murmured, forcing a smile.

Dad nodded, seemingly satisfied, and our conversation ended.

I wasted no time leaving his office, my heels clicking against the marble floor as I walked away—fast. I wanted distance. I didn’t want to be anywhere near Yohan.

But no matter how fast I moved…

I couldn’t escape him.

The elevator doors were about to close when a hand shot out, forcing them open. Yohan stepped inside.

I instinctively took a step back.

He said nothing, his hands buried in his pockets, his face unreadable. Even in silence, his presence felt overpowering, his aura suffocating.

"Do you want a grand wedding?" His voice cut through the thick air between us.

I blinked, turning to him. He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

A sharp sigh escaped me. If he wanted an honest answer, I’d give him one. "No. I don’t want to marry you, anyway," I said, my voice cold and firm.

A low chuckle left his lips. He nodded, as if he expected my response.

"Okay. In that case, it seems we’re getting married tomorrow."

My breath caught. My eyes widened, and before I could stop myself, I grabbed his coat, yanking him to face me. "W-What did you just say?! Getting married tomorrow?! Are you insane?"

He let out another laugh—this time, a little darker, more amused. With one swift motion, he pried my hands off him, adjusting his coat with unnerving calmness.

Then, he looked at me, his gaze like ice. "That’s your father’s decision, Cosette. Your company needs me. I can see it in his eyes—he’s desperate for money. Thirsty for it."

His lips curled in mock pity. "Poor you and Geneva. He’s only using you both."

I snapped.

My palm met his cheek with a loud crack.

Yohan barely flinched. He slowly turned back to face me, still grinning.

"You have no right to say that," I seethed. "You don’t know anything!"

His expression darkened. In a flash, his fingers wrapped around my arm, gripping tight.

I winced.

"You think you know everything, but you don’t," he murmured, voice dangerously low. "You’ve already crossed the line, Cosette Allen."

His grip tightened.

"You can never escape me."

My breath hitched.

"You’re going to live in hell, Cosette. With me."