Chapter 4

The remote wing was damp, the air thick with the smell of neglect. My meals arrived cold, often late. The staff assigned to me were sullen, their faces closed. The high-quality painkillers were replaced with something cheaper, less effective.

"They' re making you unstable, see?" the commentary whispered, a constant, insidious presence. "Making Julian' s next move easier."

One evening, two brutish orderlies I' d never seen before entered my room. They weren' t gentle. One held a syringe.

"Here it comes. The heavy stuff. They' ll stage something. Make you look completely unhinged."

I tried to fight, to scream, but they were strong. Panic clawed at my throat.

Then, the door opened again. Julian. For a wild, desperate moment, I thought he was here to save me.

He wasn' t.

His face was cold, devoid of any warmth I once knew. He held a sheaf of papers.

"Scarlett," he said, his voice flat. "These are for you."

He placed them on the small, rickety table. Legal documents. My eyes scanned the header. Petition for Annulment of Engagement.

"You're... you're ending it?" My voice was a choked whisper. The orderlies stepped back, watching.

"It's for the best," Julian stated, not a trace of regret in his tone. "You're clearly not well. Mentally unstable." He gestured vaguely at my disheveled appearance, the bare room.

The drugs they' d already managed to get into my system were making the room spin. I swayed.

Julian' s lip curled in distaste. "Look at you. Promiscuous, out of control."

"Promiscuous? He' s the one who' s been whoring his loyalty."

The accusation was so absurd, so cruel, it stole my breath. He didn't even wait for a response. He turned and walked out, leaving me with the leering orderlies and the papers that officially declared me broken. The door slammed shut, a final, brutal punctuation mark on our shared history. I was truly alone.