Chapter 3

3

"Gideon, is this really okay?" one man asked tentatively.

Gideon's smile didn't waver. "Of course. The Hale family is in trouble. They won't be able to do anything to us. Go ahead, I've got your back."

I used the last of my strength to grab Gideon's arm, tears streaming down my face.

"Gideon... why? Why are you doing this?"

I had given him my heart, my soul, and my family's fortune.

Gideon's eyes were bloodshot. He squeezed my chin until it hurt.

"Elara, do you have any idea how much your family has screwed mine over? This is just the beginning of your nightmare!"

He shoved me back onto the bed and didn't even look back as he walked out with his arm around Misty.

Misty gave me one last triumphant look before the door closed.

The men swarmed me, their hands tearing at my clothes.

"Help... someone help..." I tried to cover myself, but my limbs felt like lead.

Soon, I was exposed and shivering.

They crowded around the bed, and someone grabbed my ankle, dragging me toward them.

I bit my tongue hard. The sharp pain and the metallic taste of blood cleared my head for a split second.

I remembered my mother telling me she had tucked a pair of silver scissors under my pillow for good luck and protection.

I struggled toward the headboard, feeling dozens of hands roaming over me.

Their words were a blur of filth and cruelty.

"God, this is incredible."

"She's gorgeous. I can't believe Gideon waited this long to share."

"Who cares? We get to be the first ones to really play with her!"

Someone's hand moved toward my most private places. The drug made my breath hitch, and a wave of unwanted pleasure made me dizzy.

I bit my tongue even harder.

The leader of the group grabbed my face and slapped me hard. "Stop acting like a damn virgin!"

My hand finally touched the cold metal under the pillow.

"Stay back!" I screamed, swinging the scissors wildly.

"Oh, she's got a toy! You like it rough, Elara? We can do rough."

They weren't afraid. They were laughing at me.

I curled into a corner, shaking as I remembered every touch, every look.

I couldn't let them win. I couldn't live with this.

I raised the scissors and plunged them into my own stomach.

The laughter stopped instantly.

I didn't give them time to react. I stabbed myself again.

The pain was a cold, sharp contrast to the drug. My mind was finally clear.

"You want me dead? Fine. I'll do it myself!"

The white sheets turned a deep, dark red.

As the world began to fade, I felt a strange sense of peace.

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