Chapter 2

Vincent Graves strode across the entrance hall, crossed the few steps to my suitcase, and kicked it over onto the floor.

The suitcase rolled halfway across the wooden floorboards, its contents spilling out.

"Adeline Harding, what are you throwing a fit about now?"

Vincent's chest heaved violently, and a flicker of panic passed through his eyes.

But he quickly buried that emotion and looked down at me with a cold, arrogant gaze.

Lavinia Fox followed him in, her hands wrapped in thick white bandages.

She looked at me timidly with her red, swollen eyes, shrinking back slightly.

"Vincent, is it because I'm here that Adeline is upset?"

Lavinia's voice trembled as if she were about to cry, but she deliberately bit down hard on the word "sister" as she called me.

As she spoke, she walked straight to the display cabinet in the center of the living room.

Inside its glass case sat a white silk scarf stained with dried blood.

It was proof that years ago I had torn off my hem to bandage Vincent's fatal wound in that alley.

For three years, Vincent had never let anyone touch it, and he even wiped down the glass case himself every day.

Lavinia stepped up to the cabinet and reached out with her bandaged hand, as if she had brushed against the glass case by accident.

Crack.

The glass case fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.

The white scarf slid out and dropped straight into the still-burning fireplace beside it.

Crimson flames leapt up all at once, devouring the dry silk in an instant.

I instinctively took a step forward.

But in that moment Vincent stepped in front of me and clamped down on my left wrist.

His grip was enormous, and he hurled me hard onto the sofa beside him.

"Lavinia's system is just out of balance—what are you going crazy about!"

His roar echoed through the living room.

My lower back slammed hard against the sharp corner of the coffee table, and searing pain swept through my whole body in an instant.

Blood surged in my chest, and a warm, metallic sweetness rose to my throat.

I clenched my teeth and forced that mouthful of blood back down.

As I swallowed it, I could feel the ashing inside me speed up again.

I turned my head and looked at the scarf crumbling to ashes in the sea of fire.

Three years ago, Vincent had held this scarf and kissed the bloodstains on it.

"Adeline, this is my life. I'll remember it as long as I live."

His voice still seemed to echo in my ears.

And now he held the very culprit in his arms without a care, looking at me coldly.

"So it burned. It's just a scrap of cloth. Tomorrow I'll buy you a whole cabinet of Hermès."

There was not a trace of warmth in Vincent's voice.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, without shedding a single tear.

The last string in my heart, the one called hope, snapped completely.

Seeing me so unusually quiet, Vincent assumed I had finally learned to obey.

He walked over and pinched the back of my neck with his rough fingers, as if bestowing a favor.

"Come with me to the auction at the underground black market tonight. Behave yourself, and I'll overlook the little tantrum you just threw."

He didn't know that the hourglass of my life had already run out by half.

Right now, even standing took an enormous amount of effort.

I didn't resist. I just nodded at him faintly.

Lavinia hid behind Vincent's shoulder and flashed me a venomous, secret little smile.

I had just changed into a high-necked long dress that could hide my left arm, which was starting to turn transparent.

And in that very moment, someone smashed the windshield of Vincent's private car from outside.