Chapter 1
**Regret of the Heart** The sky split open with a crack of thunder, lightning lighting up the night in violent flashes. Rain poured down in sheets, followed by an incessant drumbeat against the ground, and Eleanor Green finally came to. It felt as if her body had been torn apart and hastily stitched back together again. The pain radiated through her limbs, sending tremors through her nerves as she lay on the slick pavement, fighting to gather the strength to open her eyes. Where am I? She glanced around, her heart racing, and was relieved to find the street deserted. The flickering streetlights cast an eerie glow, revealing the bruises and scratches that spoke volumes of her recent ordeal. Panic gnawed at her gut. The memories were hazy, trapped in a fog she couldn't break through. Tearing the bed sheet into makeshift strips, she fashioned it into a flowing dress that barely covered her and tied it at the waist. It was a desperate attempt to disguise the remnants of what had happened. With her disheveled hair framing her face, Eleanor felt like a fallen goddess—lost and wandering. Then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, her gaze fell on a corner of the sheet where the logo read: Regal Manor Inn. So, this was where she had been thrown out from. In the distance, the imposing neon lights of the hotel flickered like a beacon, taunting her with the memories of the night. Fragments of her past began to surge back. She remembered the getaway with her fiancé, Edward Brown, celebrating her twenty-first birthday. A sip of wine had turned into a blur, her senses dulled, her body heating. The realization sank in—someone had drugged her. And then Edward’s voice echoed in her mind: “Eleanor, there’s nothing I can do. They’ve taken Isabella. I have to exchange you for her. I can’t let her suffer more…” His face had been etched with pain, his tone heavy with sadness, yet here he was, a man who had callously handed her over to a group of predators. Fury surged through Eleanor, boiling away her fear and pain. She shot to her feet, the rain soaking through her makeshift dress, and stormed toward the Noblehart Hotel. As she moved, the security guard at the entrance was taken aback by her fierce energy, but any protest he might have managed turned to dust as she stormed past him and into the elevator, her destination clear. She slammed open the door to Edward's room, and, true to her expectations, there he was, sprawled out in bed with his ‘Jacob’—a name that conjured images she hated to imagine. The blanket slipped away, revealing evidence of their betrayal. “Eleanor?” Edward stumbled out of bed, panic etched across his face. “Wait, let me explain—Isabella was drugged, I just—” The slap landed with a sharp crack, leaving five bright red marks on his cheek. “Eleanor, no!” Isabella shrieked from the bed, rushing to her feet in a way that perfectly embodied every stereotype of a damsel in distress. She clung to Edward’s arm, her eyes wide and fearful. “Please, sister! Blame me for this, not him! Whatever happened last night, I won’t hold him accountable.” “Isabella…” Edward squeezed her tighter, as if he could shield her from the consequences of their actions. “You’re worth more than this. You have to know, I’ll take responsibility for whatever we’ve done.” Eleanor felt a wave of nausea wash over her, disgust boiling in her gut at how these two were trying to spin their betrayal into a twisted kind of love story. “Seriously? Do you two have any sense of decency left?” Isabella flinched, her gaze darting to the floor in submission, while Edward finally mustered the courage to meet Eleanor's fury with defiance. “Eleanor, let’s just call off the engagement...”
Chapter 2
**Forgiveness? In Your Dreams!** “That engagement was all just a delusion concocted by our mothers. I’ve never loved you; my heart belongs to Isabella White!” “Edward,” Isabella White cried, her tears shimmering like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. The weight of her unspoken pain seemed to evaporate in his confession, stirring something fierce in the man even as guilt threatened to consume him. Edward Brown gently cupped Isabella’s face, pulling her closer as he faced the fury etched across Eleanor Green's features. “Eleanor, I’m so sorry. Do what you will—hit me, scream at me—but please, don’t take your anger out on Isabella. She’s innocent in all of this!” What a jerk! How dare he play the victim after leaving her in the hands of scum? Eleanor Green couldn’t help but smirk, the humor in absurdity catching her off guard. Her smile was dark and stunning, reminiscent of a poisonous flower thriving in a shadowy place. Most men couldn’t resist her allure, but Edward Brown seemed frozen—until a soft whimper from Isabella drew him back to reality. “Isabella, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He instinctively protected her, shifting his gaze back to Eleanor with renewed determination. Isabella’s frightened eyes darted to Eleanor. She looked so fragile, so helpless. Seeing her in distress made Edward instinctively tighten his hold on her. “Eleanor, just tell me what it takes!” “What it takes?” Eleanor scoffed, her eyes narrowing with scorn. “What could possibly appease my fury? You underestimate me.” Drawing on every ounce of courage, Edward made a desperate offer. “I know you’re at odds with Lucas Gray over your mother’s estate. The Brown family has the connections to help you reclaim what’s rightfully yours.” “Edward, you can’t do this!” Isabella interjected, panic evident in her voice. Everyone knew that Lucas Gray had only one biological daughter—Eleanor. After marrying Isabella’s mother, Charlotte, he hadn’t produced any more heirs. If Eleanor were cast out of the Gray family, Isabella would become the sole heiress. Regret hit Isabella like a freight train. Fearing her nefarious intentions might be exposed, she rushed to add, “This is between my father and sister. The Brown family may have connections, but meddling could be ill-advised. Dad loves my sister; he’ll take care of her.” Edward, inexplicably charmed by her clumsiness, nodded as though he believed her. Eleanor breathed a mental sigh of relief, thankful she was spared from a fate tied to a man whose intelligence and emotional insight were both severely lacking. “I’ll fight for what’s mine. If I consider forgiving you, it won’t come without a price.” A lump formed in Edward’s throat, the statement sending waves of emotions crashing over him. He knew Eleanor loved him—even after everything he’d done, she would give him a chance. Eleanor was still the same woman he had always adored, handing her tenderness and compassion solely to him… “As long as you can absolve my sins, I’m at your service. Just name it!” “That’s your promise?” she shot back, throwing him a quick glance before heading toward the door. A chill ran down Edward’s spine, but nothing mattered more than her forgiveness. He jumped out of bed, tossing on clothes as Isabella pulled at his sleeve. “Edward, don’t go! With what’s happened, Eleanor isn’t acting normally. What if she…” “Relax! She would never hurt me. Trust me,” he reassured her, brushing off her concerns. Eleanor paused just outside the door, pausing briefly while considering his blind confidence. But Isabella wasn’t so easily reassured. She knew Eleanor Green had a dual nature; on good days, she could catapult people to paradise, while on bad days, she could send them to hell. No matter how much Isabella cared for Edward, last night’s events couldn’t simply be swept under the rug. “I’ve done terrible things to her. If she wants to punish me, I’ll take it like a man!” Edward declared, determination burning brightly in his chest as he strode after Eleanor.
Chapter 3
**An Eye for an Eye** The rain was relentless, pouring down in sheets as if the heavens had torn open. Edward Brown stood on the sidewalk, watching Eleanor Green step into the downpour, the rain tracing the contours of her figure. He felt a tug of emotion, a push to follow her despite the instinct to pull back. “Eleanor, where are we going?” he asked, his voice laced with the same brotherly concern as ever. “You’ll find out when we get there,” she replied cryptically. The rain obscured his view, and he couldn’t decipher her expression, only sensing the chill in her voice as it mingled with the rain. Ten minutes later, Eleanor led him to a worn-down construction site known as Stonebridge Quarry. It was still dark, the sky barely hinting at dawn, and with the downpour, there was not a soul in sight. Eleanor made a beeline for one of the trailers and knocked on the door with purpose. “What are you doing, Eleanor?” Edward felt a flutter of anxiety. “These people have no standards. Getting involved with them—” His words spilled out, tinged with the prejudice that came from being part of the elite Brown family. It was hard for him to see lowly workers as anything but inferior. Eleanor smiled faintly, brushing his concerns aside as if they were just raindrops. She pounded on the door again, louder this time. Finally, the door swung open, revealing a gruff foreman, who scowled at them. “What’s the racket? Some of us were trying to sleep!” Edward instinctively stepped in front of Eleanor, protective. She merely shot the foreman a cold glance, her eyes landing squarely on him. “I have a proposition. Interested?” The foreman sized her up, a mix of suspicion and curiosity flitting across his face. He lifted his chin, intrigued, “What kind of proposition?” At the mention of business, others from the trailer began to gather around. Eleanor’s smile widened, pleased by the attention. “I’ll pay each of you a hundred grand to take that man and—” she paused for effect, “—have your fun with him.” Boom! It was as if a lightning bolt had struck, sending shockwaves through Edward’s mind. Did he just hear that right? The workers exchanged bewildered glances, each processing the absurdity. Was this a dream? One man even slapped himself to confirm he was awake. “What did you say?” the foreman stumbled over his words, disbelief seeping into his voice. Eleanor remained unfazed, “I know you guys are often away from home; I can help with that. No need to pay for a hooker when this guy is just a gift. A hundred grand each, or if that seems low, how about two hundred?” Another shockwave rippled through the crowd. Two hundred grand—that was more money than they could dream of saving in years of hard labor. Most of these guys worked in the sun, day in and day out, just to put food on the table or save for a wedding. Two hundred grand was life-changing. The allure of something for nothing sent their adrenaline racing. “Eleanor?” Edward finally snapped back to reality, but she wouldn’t even look at him. Instead, she spoke directly to the men who were visibly intrigued. “Last chance: three hundred grand. You can’t afford to miss out. If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone else.” The reality dawned on Edward—he understood what she was planning. He felt the room closing in as those eager eyes fell on him like a predator stalking its prey. As memories of the previous night flooded back, when he had handed Eleanor over to those privileged boys, fear gripped him, and his body shook. “Eleanor, are you really going to do this? How could you stoop so low?” There was a painful edge of disappointment in his voice. Eleanor’s laughter was a cold, tinged sound. She turned her gaze on him at last, “Edward, I don’t care if you and I are done, or if you’re pining after Isabella White. I’m a woman who believes in paying back what I owe. You played me yesterday, and today, it’s my turn.” She pivoted back to the workers. “So, what’s it going to be?” They all now understood the twisted dynamic between her and Edward. The foreman clenched his jaw, determination set in his eyes. “Fine! Three hundred grand. Consider it done! Let’s rid the world of this pest!” “Don’t insult dogs—he doesn’t deserve that!” Eleanor retorted sharply, pulling out a plastic bag filled with stacks of cash. She handed it to the foreman. “This is your down payment.” Edward’s heart raced as dread slithered in. Eleanor was serious. He turned to run, but two burly men suddenly grabbed him, slamming him onto the filthy ground. The rain splattered mud across his face as he struggled to look up. All he could see was Eleanor’s icy gaze. “Eleanor!” Her back was turned, and no matter how hard he screamed her name, how deeply he pleaded, she didn’t glance back. Just as the night before, when she had cried out for him and he had turned his back, he was met with silence. In that moment, everything became heartbreakingly clear—tides had turned, and what was once love had morphed into revenge.
Chapter 4
**A Reckoning** The rain came down in sheets, washing away the grime and ugliness of the world. Eleanor Green stepped out of Stonebridge Quarry, her heart as heavy as the dark clouds swirling above. She paused, tilting her head up to let the raindrops mingle with her tears—eyes glistening, reflecting the storm inside her. Every story must end, every scheme unravel, and unfortunately, Edward Brown had merely been a pawn in someone else's game. The bitterness coiling in her gut was rooted in betrayal, the ache stemmed from the naive trust she had once given. She could never forget that fateful summer when Edward had come to the Shadowvale Slums to rescue her. She had just gotten into a scuffle with some punks from the neighborhood, bruised and battered. But there he was, stepping into the light like a savior, gently tending to her wounds. His fingers were gentle, reassuring. The words he had spoken that day echoed in her memory: “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. No one can hurt you again.” That had been the sweetest promise she had ever heard, the one bright spot in her rough-and-tumble life filled with hardship. Yet now, as water streamed down her face, she couldn’t help but wonder about the fragility of that promise. Could you truly bite back when a loyal dog turned on you? Did she have it in her to become the monster when others had already crossed that line? Before she had tasted the bitter sting of betrayal from those she loved, she might have scoffed at the idea. Now, she understood. The ones who don’t retaliate often have wounds deep enough to dull their anger, leaving them hollow rather than virtuous. “Eleanor! Where’s Edward? What did you do to him?” Isabella White burst through the rain, her voice piercing through the storm like a frantic siren. She looked like a damsel in distress, but all Eleanor felt was annoyance. “What’s with the drama, Izzy? There’s no one here to perform for.” Eleanor shot back, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. “You think the cameras are watching?” “Seriously, what’re you talking about?” Isabella’s urgency only seemed to deepen, yet the icy resolve in her eyes was unmistakable. Eleanor had no inclination to play pretend. “I’m just collecting what he owes me,” Eleanor said flatly. “Collecting… what?” Isabella’s face blanched, processed the implication. “You mean…?” “Yeah, you heard right. You should be thanking him, though. Trust me, this was supposed to be your burden to bear.” Had she predicted what had unfolded last night? “Eleanor, I don’t understand. You’re not making any sense,” Isabella insisted, fists clenched, her pleading expression still marred by a chilling facade. Eleanor’s gaze turned sharp as she scrutinized Isabella. “So Samuel Smith didn’t abduct you, then?” So naive, she thought. Isabella had done everything so cunningly, weaving her way around every suspicion like a master thief, not once setting off a red flag for Edward. How was it that Eleanor could see through her half-hearted veil? But what was done was done. There was no changing the past. What good was it to be wise after the fact? Could Isabella really prove anything, even if she wanted to? Isabella assessed Eleanor, her jealousy seething. Physically, she couldn’t fault her. Tall, striking; it was hard not to feel inferior next to her older sister. But that beautiful package meant nothing if you’d been tarnished, a discarded garment worn and frayed. And then, Isabella’s smile spread—a sickening grin that chilled Eleanor to the bone. “So you think I’d team up with Samuel to hurt you? You’re my sister! I care for you more than anyone.” Her voice dripped with false sweetness, revealing the lie behind the facade—this was the moment everything would come crashing down. “Edward’s at that construction site over there. He’s yours to deal with now. Good luck.” With that, Eleanor turned, pushing away from the confrontation. “Walk away, huh?” Isabella shouted at her retreating figure, hands tightening into fists. “After today, I’ll see how you hold your head so high!” How long will it take for you to crumble before those privileged boys? I’ll relish the sight of your downfall, watching you forced out of Gray Family and Cloudhaven, reduced to nothing more than a wretched shadow of your former self—a mouse scuttling beneath the feet of judgment. Sister, don’t forget the gift I gave you for your twentieth birthday.
Chapter 5
“Dad, let’s cut ties. I want to disown you.” Eleanor Green wasn’t naïve. She wasn’t about to believe that the deceitful duo of Isabella White and her mother Charlotte wanted merely to drug her and taint her reputation. No, their ultimate aim was the Gray Family fortune, and since she was the sole heiress, they viewed her as a major obstacle the moment she walked back into the Gray mansion. After returning to her room, she changed out of the garments that still held the traces of last night’s chaos, preparing herself for the final act of this twisted drama that had been set in motion. The dawn was barely breaking when a knock echoed through her door. Taking a sip of hot tea, Eleanor felt the warmth chase away the lingering chill that had settled in her bones. She composed her face into a mask of indifference as she turned to face the couple entering her room: her father and his ever-pitiful-looking wife. She let a smile grace her lips. “You two are early birds, aren’t you? This is quite the surprise.” “Eleanor Green, do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Benjamin Gray’s voice was low, but it crackled with fury as he threw a stack of photographs on the table before her. Eleanor narrowed her eyes, a thrill of intrigue pricking beneath her calm facade. So, they had saved some evidence after all. She picked up the top photo, involuntarily suppressing a wince as she recognized the scene: a group of men gathered around a woman in a drunken stupor, their intentions written all over their faces. While the identities weren’t clear, the depravity was abundantly visible—images that could make even the strongest of hearts falter. “Do you really think these photos are enough to frame me?” she said, arching an eyebrow. Benjamin was nearly spluttering in indignation. “How dare you! I don’t care who you’ve associated with, but getting caught in a situation like this? You’ve embarrassed the Gray name and ruined our standing in Cloudhaven!” “Eleanor, have you forgotten your engagement to the Brown Family?” he continued, a desperate tone creeping into his voice. “I refuse to have you as a daughter after this disgrace!” Sipping her tea, Eleanor regarded her father coolly. “Dad, I think you’ve forgotten that I don’t share your last name anymore. I’m a Green. The moment you laid with this woman and let my mother die, I ceased to be a Gray...” “You—” Benjamin’s rage turned him pale, his hands shaking as if struggling to contain his emotions. Eleanor, however, remained unbothered, plucking another photo from the pile. “I find it amusing that in all these pictures, not a single face appears. How can you be so confident it was me? Perhaps you were involved in last night’s escapade yourself?” The room fell silent, Benjamin’s expression a mixture of disbelief and horror. “Involved? As your father, I’m supposed to safeguard you, not frame you! If I hadn’t had my men monitoring you, I wouldn’t have discovered what kind of debauchery you’ve succumbed to. Eleanor, you’ve shattered my trust!” Eleanor observed his reaction, suspecting he was unknowingly caught in the game Isabel and Charlotte had set in motion. He seemed blissfully unaware that he was merely a pawn in their game. Glancing at Charlotte White, she sensed the tension beneath the woman’s attempt at composure. An idea sparked in her mind. “Dad, did you ever wonder why none of these photos captured anyone's face?” “Why would that matter?” Benjamin looked confused. “Because the person in those pictures isn’t me. Your precious private investigator wouldn’t dare take a photo of my face,” she said, her voice steady. Despite her foggy memory of the night, she was certain she hadn’t succumbed to Samuel Smith or anyone from his group. Charlotte White stiffened, and Eleanor could see the knowledge etched across her stepmother’s face. That glazed-over, drugged haze was damaging, but Eleanor managed to escape, somehow. It was a miracle that they assumed she was just some victim. As the tension crackled, she could sense that the confrontational dynamic was escalating, and Charlotte, ever the tactician, intervened. “Eleanor, let’s be rational. You’ve made mistakes. Don’t blame the investigator. He’s Cloudhaven’s most reputable. The fact that he didn’t photograph your face shows his concern for the Gray family name. You should be thanking him! Your father has a bad heart, so why don’t you simply admit your fault and salvage your place as the rightful lady of the Gray family…” A surge of anger crashed through Eleanor. This conniving woman dared to twist the narrative, readiness dancing in her eyes. She knew the game Charlotte was playing—manipulating her father while pretending to be concerned. The irony of it stabbed at her. “Charlotte White, you’d better shut your mouth before I realize just how much of my ire I should unleash on you.” “You—” The tears that cascaded down Charlotte’s cheeks seemed more staged than real, as if she possessed an unlimited supply of artistic skills for melodrama. Even knowing the mother and daughter duo’s tricks by heart, Eleanor couldn’t suppress her surprise at the performance unfolding before her. “Eleanor, you better apologize to your mother! How dare you treat her this way!” Benjamin’s gaze diverted exclusively to Charlotte, lost in her act. The chill in Eleanor's heart hardened, and she placed her cup down deliberately. “Dad, I’m just going to ask you one straightforward question.” “Spit it out, I don’t have all day,” he snapped, impatience lacing his tone. “What if I told you that last night’s chaos was engineered by this woman and her daughter in an attempt to ruin me? Would you believe me?” “Eleanor, that’s enough!” Benjamin was furious, his eyes now red and full of venom as he threatened to engulf her with his ire. Eleanor couldn’t help but smile. She understood now that no matter how much guilt he felt about her mother’s death, that remorse had been swallowed whole by the poison of Isabella and Charlotte’s influence. “Dad, why don’t we just sever ties? I want to disown you.”
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