Chapter 4

Every head in the room snapped toward me. The silence was thick with accusation.

Cassie, still sobbing in Adrian's arms, looked at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Ellery... how could you? I knew you were jealous, but this... this is evil!"

She buried her face in Adrian's chest. "Those pictures... they aren't real, Adrian. They're fake! But everyone saw them... my reputation... it's ruined!"

I felt a chill spread through my body. "It wasn't me," I said, my voice barely a whisper. But no one was listening. No one believed me.

Cassie let out a final, gut-wrenching sob and then dramatically collapsed.

"Cassie!" Adrian yelled, catching her before she hit the floor. He scooped her up and ran for the door. "I'm taking her to the hospital!"

He paused at the doorway and turned to look at me. His eyes were like chips of ice. They held a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"You will pay for this, Ellery," he snarled. "I swear to God, you will pay for this."

Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the wreckage of the party, the damning flyers scattered at my feet. I knew he meant it. He would make me suffer.

I had to get out. I rushed home, my mind racing. I needed to find proof, something to clear my name. But before I could even start, Adrian's men arrived. They dragged me from the penthouse, ignoring my protests.

They took me not to a police station, but to a private clinic. Adrian was there, his face grim.

"Cassie lost a lot of blood from the shock," he said, his voice void of any emotion. "She needs a transfusion. You're the same blood type. You'll donate."

It wasn't a request. It was a punishment.

"Adrian, this is insane! I didn't do anything!" I struggled against the men holding me.

He didn't even look at me. "Do it," he ordered the doctor.

They strapped me to a chair. I watched in horror as the needle slid into my arm. They took bag after bag of my blood, far more than a normal donation. The room started to spin.

When they were done, they didn't take me back home. They drove me to a deserted stretch of coastline. The air was cold and smelled of salt and decay.

Two of Adrian's bodyguards dragged me out of the car.

"What are you doing?" I cried, my voice weak from blood loss.

Without a word, they pushed me into the churning, black water.

The icy shock stole my breath. I flailed, swallowing salty water as the waves crashed over my head. I'm not a strong swimmer. I was drowning.

"Please!" I screamed, my voice raw. "I didn't do it! I swear!"

One of the bodyguards waded in after me. Every time my head broke the surface, he would push it back under. The world became a terrifying cycle of darkness, pressure, and burning lungs.

Over and over again.

"Mr. Payne wants you to know what it feels like," the man said dispassionately during one of my brief gasps for air. "What it feels like to have your reputation dragged through the mud."

I cried and begged and pleaded. I told them the truth. They just watched, their faces blank, as I slowly lost the strength to fight. The darkness lasted for an eternity.

Finally, they dragged my limp body back to the shore and threw me onto the sand like a piece of garbage.

I woke up in a hospital. Not a private clinic, but a public one. A nurse was checking my vitals.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a message from a friend.

"Ellery! Are you okay? I saw the news. Did you and Adrian really break up?"

Attached was a link to a gossip blog. My hands trembled as I clicked on it.

There, plastered across the screen, were pictures of me. Deepfaked. Obscene. The same kind of pictures that had been on the flyers, but this time, it was my face.

They were everywhere. Twitter, Instagram, every corner of the internet. My name was a trending topic, attached to hashtags too vile to even read. Adrian's revenge was swift and brutal.