The Wrong Girl Burns Bright

Chaos broke out below—screams, people shouting over each other.

Cleo stood at the edge, watching the crowd close in around Nora's still body on the lawn.

Nothing.

She smoothed her skirt, fixed her hair, picked up the shawl from the railing, then turned and walked for the exit.

She'd barely made it past the carved doors when a hand clamped around her wrist.

She turned—met Damian's eyes, dark with fury and disbelief.

He'd rushed over. His breathing was uneven, his gaze locked on her, his voice cold as ice.

"Nora fell from the balcony... did you do it?"

Cleo shook his hand off. "Yeah. So?"

His face darkened, anger flashing in his eyes.

"I told you to learn from Nora. This is what you got out of it?" His voice hardened. "You're out of control. Go back and apologize."

"Apologize?" Cleo laughed. "She had it coming. Me? Apologize? Try your next life."

"You're impossible." He cut it off and turned to the bodyguards. "If she won't apologize, she'll learn. Throw her in the reflecting pool. She doesn't get out without my say. Not until the reception's over."

"Damian Joubert! Who do you think you are? Don't touch me!" Cleo fought hard.

His grip tightened on her wrist, crushing. He stared straight at her, every word slow and sharp. "I'm your fiancé. Nora almost died because of you. If I don't deal with you, your father will do worse when you get home. You need to learn. This doesn't happen again."

"What fiancé? We already—"

She didn't get it out.

The bodyguards grabbed her. Ignoring the kicking and shouting, they hauled her to the pool and threw her in.

Splash.

The freezing water swallowed her whole.

Early spring. The cold cut deep.

Cleo broke the surface, choking, coughing, clawing for the edge.

The second she grabbed it, a bodyguard shoved her back under.

She tried again. And again.

Every time, they forced her down.

"Damian! You bastard! Let me out!"

Her voice ripped raw. The only answer—water crashing over her as she got pushed under again.

Her strength faded with each struggle. The cold seeped in, numbing everything.

Then a sharp ache twisted low in her stomach.

Her period hit.

Bright red spread through the clear water, blooming out until nearly half the pool turned crimson.

Her face went paper-white—cold, pain, all of it.

Through the blur, she heard a bodyguard on the phone.

"Sir, she started her period. There's a lot of blood... do we keep going?"

Silence.

Then Damian's voice cut through—cold, final.

"Continue. Otherwise, she'll never learn."

'Never learn?' So that's it. My defiance, my pain, my reasons—none of it matters. He just wants obedience.

The freezing water burned like fire, searing her skin, her chest.

A deeper despair hit—worse than the pain.

Tears slipped into the water, quiet, unnoticed.

She couldn't hold on anymore.

Darkness closed in. Her body went slack, sinking under the blood-stained water.