Chapter 2

Two years ago, my father was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for rape.

The victim was a high school girl named Sofia. As a result of the assault, she developed severe depression and now had to live with a colostomy bag for the rest of her life.

I would never forget the day my father was sentenced. He cried and begged me, "Melanie, it wasn't me. You have to believe me."

I didn't want to believe it either. The man who had always treated me like his most precious treasure—a rapist? But the evidence was irrefutable. The cruel truth stared me in the face, leaving no room for denial.

Sofia's medical examination showed fresh tears in her private parts. At my father's workplace, they discovered tools used to torture women, all bearing Sofia's DNA.

That was how my father was sent to prison, and I inherited the shameful label of the "rapist's daughter".

Sofia was sent overseas for treatment.

That same year, I started college. Many people took the opportunity to bully me over what happened.

But Luke stood up for me. He shielded me, placing himself between me and my tormentors.

"Don't be afraid. As long as I'm here, no one will dare hurt you," he had said.

I once thought he was my light, someone who could walk with me through life.

I was wrong. It was all a lie—a beautiful dream he crafted, only to rip it apart and plunge me into a nightmare.

Luke knew me well. He knew exactly how to break me, how to make me hurt so deeply I could barely breathe.

Ordinary pain wasn't enough for him. He was determined to make me suffer every torment Sofia endured, down to the last detail.

He brought out an array of tools and handed them to the men he'd brought along.

When I saw them approaching me with those tools, my whole body trembled in fear.

"No! Luke, please make them stop. I'm begging you. Please let me go," I pleaded, gripping his hand with my bruised, trembling fingers.

But his eyes were cold with disdain as he yanked his hand away.

"Let you go?" He sneered. "In your dreams!"

My heart shattered, like glass smashing against the ground—sudden and irreparable. The pain was so overwhelming it made my entire body convulse.

Before I could react, they pinned me to the ground. No matter how much I struggled, it was futile.

I screamed, cried, and begged for help, desperate for someone to hear me and save me.

But the only response was the loud crackling of fireworks in the distance, as if the heavens were mocking my despair.

It felt like a cruel joke, one I never expected. My boyfriend had actually hired people to rape me.

They laughed as they tortured me with the tools, while Luke filmed everything.

It hurt. My body, my heart—everything hurt.

I tried to crawl away, only to be dragged back again and again.

When they were done, they discarded me like trash.

Lying there, shattered and broken, I felt a despair I had never known before. It was as if I'd been pushed off a cliff with no warning, plunging into an abyss.

Luke crouched in front of me, his gaze icy and piercing.

"Feeling hopeless?" he asked, his voice cold.

He tapped his chest for emphasis, his tone rising.

"Does it hurt here? It does?" He smirked. "Good. I want you to feel that pain—to wish you were dead. But I won't let you die. I'll make sure you live through every moment of this hell."

It hurt—how could it not? Being destroyed by the person you once loved was like having shards of ice driven into your chest, leaving you gasping for air, trapped in endless torment.

The pain consumed me, gnawed at me like relentless ants devouring flesh.

I couldn't understand or accept it.

How could someone fake love so convincingly?

Luke had once made ginger tea for me in the middle of the night when I had cramps.

He'd knitted a scarf for me with his own hands, worried I'd catch a cold in winter.

He used to pick me up from school every day, making sure no one bullied me.

He even promised we'd get married and have a son together someday.

The Luke I had known back then was completely different from the man in front of me now. All those beautiful memories—now I knew they were lies, spun for the sake of revenge.

I reached out weakly, clutching the hem of Luke's pants. I looked up at him, searching for even a trace of the love that used to fill his eyes. But there was none—only hatred.

I still tried to pull him back.

"Luke, please, wake up. It's all in the past. My father's already in prison…"

He kicked my hand away, anger flaring on his face.

"That little suffering is not enough!" he spat. "Your father may be in prison, but I want your whole family to pay. None of you will escape—not you, not your mother!"

My face turned ghostly pale. Fear, pain, and helplessness erupted within me all at once.

"No!" I begged with a hoarse voice, tears streaming down my face. "Please don't hurt my mom. I'm begging you—for the sake of what we once had…"

Luke smiled, his lips curling into a sinister grin, as cold as death itself.

"The real nightmare is just beginning," he said. "I'll never let any of you go."

In that moment, whatever love I had left for him vanished completely.

I was a fool—a pitiful fool—for ever believing he could change for me.

He never loved me. These past two years had been nothing but a meticulously crafted plot for revenge.

Looking at my broken body, I knew I could never go back to who I was before.

The bright, cheerful girl I once was had died the moment Luke hurt me.