Chapter 4

When I woke up, I was in an abandoned factory.

My hands and feet were bound.

I had been kidnapped.

My kidnapper was a rough-looking man holding a knife.

The blade pressed against my neck. One wrong move, and it would cut into my flesh.

“Give me five hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll let you go.”

I assumed he knew I was the Whitmores’ daughter and wanted ransom.

“I have nothing to do with the Whitmores anymore. They won’t pay you.”

“I don’t want their money. I want yours. Or you can get someone else to put together the five hundred thousand.”

I had never heard such a ridiculous ransom demand.

“I don’t have five hundred thousand dollars.”

“Don’t you have a painting? That’s worth a lot more.”

Suddenly, I understood.

This was all a badly staged performance.

A mocking smile tugged at my lips.

“What if I don’t have what you’re talking about? Are you going to kill me?”

He froze. Apparently, he hadn’t expected me to remain so stubborn with my life on the line.

But the show had to go on.

He moved the knife to my wrist.

“Then I’ll cripple your hand.”

I laughed until tears filled my eyes.

Then I raised my arm and dragged it against the blade.

He jerked back in panic, but a deep red cut still opened in my skin.

“That—that wasn’t on purpose! You did that yourself!”

“Why pull away? Just make the cut.”

“You all think I ruined her right hand. Then ruin mine. An injury for an injury.”

Realizing I had seen through their little production, they emerged from the shadows.

All four of them.

One complete, happy family.

Ethan untied my wrists and ankles, scolding me. “Are you insane? You pushed your arm into a knife!”

He tried to take me to the hospital.

Chloe didn’t like seeing him beside me. She walked over and deliberately stepped between us.

“Lily, we weren’t going to hurt you.”

“I never imagined you’d use a trick like this to get our sympathy.”

Understanding dawned on Ethan’s face.

“Lily Brooks, you’re getting more manipulative by the day.”

I shoved Chloe away. She stumbled into Ethan.

“You know exactly where your painting went. When are you going to end this little show you wrote for yourself?”

My father pulled Chloe behind him and slapped me across the face.

“You never learn!”

“Fine. As far as the Whitmores are concerned, you’re no daughter of ours. Get out!”

The taste of blood filled my mouth.

“Fine.”

I spoke slowly.

“From this day forward, I have nothing to do with the Whitmores.”

“Or any of you.”