Chapter 11
986 Words
Caroline's pov
“Peter!” I shouted again, yanking uselessly against the silk ties binding my wrists to the headboard. The fabric dug into my skin with every desperate pull, but it held firm. “Peter, come back here! You can’t do this to me!”
Silence answered me.
The guest room felt smaller, colder, and more suffocating with every passing minute. My arms ached from being stretched above my head.
The sting on my cheek had dulled into a throbbing reminder, but the humiliation burned hotter than ever. I twisted on the bed, trying to find any slack in the knots, but Peter had tied them too well.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours.
Then I heard the soft click of the lock turning.
My heart leaped for a second, hoping it was Peter coming back to his senses. But when the door opened, it wasn’t him.
Cerene slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind her. She had changed out of her party dress into a soft silk robe, her blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders.
To anyone else, she would have looked fragile and innocent. But I knew better. The moment the door clicked shut, her expression shifted.
The pitiful, teary look melted away, replaced by a cold, mocking smile that sent ice down my spine.
“Well, well,” she purred, stepping closer to the bed. “Look at you. The great Caroline Harrington, tied up like a disobedient little pet. How the mighty have fallen.”
“Cerene, get out,” I hissed, glaring at her as I strained against the ties. “Peter will kill you if he finds out you’re in here.”
She laughed, letting out a light, musical sound that made my skin crawl. “Oh, sweetie. Peter’s not here. He left about twenty minutes ago. Something urgent came up with one of his business partners. He asked me to ‘keep an eye on you’ while he’s gone.” Her smile widened. “Isn’t that sweet? He trusts me completely.”
She walked slowly around the bed, trailing her fingers along the wooden footboard. Her eyes roamed over my restrained body with open satisfaction.
“You really thought you could win, didn’t you?” she continued, voice dripping with mockery. “Getting that old woman’s fortune, parading around with your shiny new bracelet, letting Alexander put his jacket on you like some knight in shining armor. Pathetic. You’ve always been second place, Caro. Always.”
I watched her warily as she moved to the side table and picked up a decorative candle. She lit it with a match, the flame dancing to life. The scent of vanilla filled the room, but there was nothing sweet about the look in her eyes.
“Cerene… don’t,” I warned, my voice shaking as she approached the bed again.
She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Don’t what? This?”
She held the candle above my stomach and slowly tipped it.
Hot wax dripped onto my exposed tummy.
I screamed.
The burning pain was sharp and immediate, like liquid fire spreading across my skin. I arched off the bed, yanking violently against the silk ties as another scream tore from my throat.
Cerene threw her head back and laughed. The sound was bright and delighted, completely at odds with the cruel act she was committing. She tipped the candle again, letting more wax fall in slow, deliberate drops.
“Does it hurt, sister?” she cooed, watching me writhe. “Good. Maybe now you’ll finally understand your place. You’ve always been in my way. Taking Peter’s attention. Trying to steal the spotlight. But not anymore.”
Tears streamed down my face as the wax hardened on my skin, pulling tight with every movement. I gasped for breath, my body trembling from the pain.
“Peter’s out,” she said cheerfully, circling the bed again. “He won’t be back for hours. No one’s coming to save you, Caro. Not your precious Alexander. Not your new Harrington money. And definitely not Peter. He’s finally starting to see things my way.”
She set the candle down and reached for my wrist — the one with the Harrington bracelet. Her fingers traced the intricate gold design for a moment, almost reverently.
“This is too good for you,” she murmured.
Before I could stop her, she unclasped the bracelet with surprising skill and slipped it off my wrist. She held it up to the light, admiring how it gleamed, then slid it onto her own wrist with a satisfied smirk.
“Looks much better on me, don’t you think?”
“Give that back!” I snarled, thrashing against my restraints. “It’s not yours!”
Cerene leaned down close to my face, her breath warm against my skin. Her eyes sparkled with triumph.
“Everything that was yours is mine now, Caroline. Your husband. Your home. Your future. Even this pretty little trinket.” She straightened up, admiring the bracelet on her wrist. “Sweet dreams, sister. Try not to scream too loudly. The staff might think you’re just being dramatic again.”
She blew out the candle, plunging the room back into dim lighting, and headed for the door.
“Cerene!” I shouted after her, voice raw. “You won’t get away with this!”
She paused at the doorway, glancing back with that same sweet, poisonous smile.
“Oh, but I already have.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and the lock turned once more.
I was left alone again in the guest room, wrists raw from struggling, burning wax cooling on my stomach, and the symbolic Harrington bracelet now gone.
Tears of rage and helplessness burned in my eyes as I stared at the ceiling, chest heaving.
“Peter…” I whispered brokenly into the empty room. “What have you done?”
- Writer
