Chapter 14 It feels as though an ice bucket has been dumped over me, a shiver chilling me to the bones. 'Excuse me?' 'We're prepared to release you from Lilydale and advise the Court that you have fulfilled your requirements of your stay. You'll be released back into the community and free to continue your life.' 'But you want me to sign an annulment?' I question, the disgust visible in my tone. Whittingham nods. 'Reverse the damage you did and leave this all behind. Besides, it's for the best, isn't it? You don't need to be tied down to certain people.' Folding my arms, I hold his intense stare. He's trying to shake me down, dangling a carrot in my face. But he's made a grave mistake. While he and Alexander have no qualms about hurting people to get where they want, I don't share the same view. And it's devastating to realize that he thinks this is all a game-that I solely and only entered into a marriage contract to fuck them over. I mean sure, I didn't know I was entering into it... and they don't need to know that. But the thing he fails to recognize is my connection with Damon... with Grey and Theo, is more than revenge. I'm nothing without them. They are my whole existence now-the three who saved me from my demons, my enemies, and freed me from the chains holding me back. Whittingham takes my silence as a sign of contemplation, pushing a piece of paper toward me. Curiously, I lean forward, spotting the words 'ANNULMENT' along with a bunch of other text that holds no meaning. 'Just sign and walk out the door, Ms. White,' he says coolly. 'It's that simple.' My eyes fall onto the pen he's holding out, beady little eyes watching me eagerly. Shifting forward on my chair, I take the pen from his grasp, his eyes lighting up with greedy success. Clicking the pen to eject the ballpoint, I lock eyes with him. 'You won't regret this,' he encourages with a nod of his head. 'You're better off without them.' A smile breaks across my face, his posture relaxing as if he's the cat that's got the cream. He's so sure that he has me won over, that he doesn't notice me moving until it's too late. I lurch forward, gripping the pen tight in my fist. There's a sickening crunch and squelch of flesh as it embeds its way into his hand, sticking out. Whitface lets out a loud yell, other hand immediately ripping out the pen as blood flows from the wound onto his desk, soaking the annulment paperwork. The guard, unprepared too, latches onto me, pinning my arms behind my back as I'm lifted off the chair and pulled away from the desk. 'You pathetic little-' 'What?' I cut Whittingham off. 'What am I?' There's no answer as he holds his hand against his expensive suit, staring daggers at me. Fury flashes back at me, his tone crisp and laced with pain. 'Take her to solitary confinement,' he directs the guard. I don't cut my gaze from him as I'm dragged backwards, a snarky smile on my face. The idea of solitary confinement has always been terrifying, but I'm too pumped up on adrenaline to care. I'm still learning things about myself every day. Even after all I've been through at Lilydale, if you asked me last week how I felt about harming another person, I'd probably say I hated the idea. I'm so used to being the one hurt that I could never picture myself inflicting pain on another. But something about the smug look on his face, the way they are trying to strongarm me into turning my back on my loved ones, just unleashed... darkness. There's no regrets. Only... relief. The office starts to vanish from view as my shoes whine against the flooring, my body being dragged heavily toward the patient side of the facility. But I keep my gaze fixed on Whittingham until he slams the door closed, cursing and groaning. It's then I realize I'm laughing out loud, the sound bouncing around the walls. The guard tenses behind me, a little panicked as he tries to keep a firm grasp on me while punching in the code and swiping the card I saw him grab from Whittingham. I don't bother to assist him by walking normally. Consider this your cardio workout for the day, champ. The high-pitched nail-on-chalkboard sound from the heels of my feet draws attention, both Dr. Markel and Dr. Smith poking their heads out of their offices as we pass. Equally horrified gazes find my face, and all I can do is throw Dr. Smith a wink. 'She has blood on her face!' the old, sing-songy doctor exclaims, near stuttering in some medical fashion of panic. Huh-must have flung on there from Whittingham ripping the pen out. The thought doesn't freak me out as much as I expect. In fact, when the bane of my existence, Dr. Elsher steps out of his room to also see what all the commotion is about, I take advantage of it. Catching his eye, I cock an eyebrow, smirking at him. Psychoanalyze me now, fuckface. Unlike his colleagues, he's not horrified or surprised. If anything, he sneers in response at my presence, and I flip him the bird happily. Grey might be onto something here about the whole blood situation. Did that asshole's DNA accidentally soak into my pores, infecting me with all those traits that they love and use to hurt us? Or maybe-just, maybe-I'm fed up with being used. What gives them the right to fuck with me? To dangle freedom in front of my face in exchange for stabbing someone in the back? They are nothing but cowards in expensive attire, hiding behind a wall of muscle. 'Ow!' It slips out before I realize, my heels hitting the concrete steps heavily as I'm dragged into the darkness. The guard just grunts in reply, panting and probably contemplating his life choices after hauling me from one side of the facility to the other. Well, surely he knew it wouldn't be an easy job. He repositions himself, curling an arm around my neck, forcing me into a chokehold while trying to open the cell door single handedly. Fuck him too. I dig my nails into his arm, doing my best to create semi-crescent markings through the black sleeves that poke out of the tactical gear. He squeezes harder, huffing in frustration before finally getting the door open. Without giving my existence a second thought, he flings me into the darkness, my knees hitting the hard ground. I'm a little embarrassed by the yelp and groan of pain that emerges from my mouth, but he's already gone, the door slamming shut behind him. Shit-Theo wasn't kidding when he said it was dark in here. I can't see anything, not even my own hands. The so-called flickering light doesn't appear to be on and as quickly as it appeared, the adrenaline leaves. I shiver, softly at first before it starts growing more aggressively. Using my hands, I feel my way around, expecting a bed. There's a thin mattress on the floor but no bed frame, and I maneuver myself until I'm perched on top of it with my back pressed against the wall. Checking to make sure there's no blinking red lights, I extract my cell. I need to alert Grey and Theo to the situation, but, of course, there's no signal down here. The light provides a little relief and I turn on the torch function, inspecting my surroundings. Solitary confinement is smaller than my room, the walls painted black-at least, that's what it looks like even with the torch light. Large metal pipes crisscross on the roof, leading to God knows where. The hard wall is scratched to pieces from my betters before me, scuff marks and stains of blood smeared on the wall. There's even a questionable larger stain about face level, and I shiver thinking about the idea that someone headbutted themselves into a mess in here. But I can understand why. I was warned about this cell. Fuck. I stabbed Whittingham. Everything hits me at once as I circle back to his office, my mind replaying the events. Asshole had it coming-there's no doubt about it. I don't regret it at all, surprisingly. The adrenaline has faded but I still feel justified in my reaction. I have no idea how people like him can live and breathe with so much hatred. They get off on the idea of hurting others, determined to do whatever it takes to get their way. For someone that claimed I could be saved when I first arrived at Lilydale, all I can do is shake my head. He lied from day one. There was never any intention of saving me. I was just a chosen project in their eyes. After feeling unworthy for most of my life, it was a shock to realize that I was worthy to people society deemed important-my story, at least. I was personally selected to come to Lilydale. That hotshot attorney fought for it, not realizing he was putting me on a silver platter. They ate up my sob story, my tragic background, seeing nothing but dollar signs. From the day they accepted my application, I was worth a price. No, that's a lie. I was the price. I paid the price. Still. Whittingham lied to me and Margaret, promising me great things about Lilydale. Yet, he watched Damon bleed out on the floor. He instigated my kidnapping, knowing what I was about to be subjected to. He's a fucking monster. Minutes turn into hours, and hours into years... Well, it feels like it. The only saving grace for my sanity is my cell phone. No reception is a killer, but at least I can view the time. Except it feels like it's lying to me too. Four hours pass but it feels like days. I pass the time by scrolling through my gallery, not even embarrassed by the sex photos stored in there. I'm clinging to the thought of my guys. It's distressing knowing that I'm stuck here until Whittingham decides it's enough. They couldn't even get Theo out when he was thrown in here. How long will it take? Days? Weeks? And then I realize I'm exactly where I don't want to be-at the mercy of Whitface. Only he can access me, separating us when I'm the biggest target in Lilydale. It wouldn't take much for Alexander to come down here, corner me all alone and end my life. He'd use a gun, no doubt. Alexander and Whitface are all about the theatrics. It's why they use Lily's-my mother-in-law's-important dates as codes. Sending a statement is meaningful to them. The assholes love flaunting their power, and I've potentially walked right into their trap. Well... what alternative did I have? I wasn't about to sign the annulment and just hand over everything to Alexander. No, I decide, this was the better option. Even if they kill me, I will have saved innocent people from their clutches. Just as long as Damon survives me. My shares will revert to him, keeping him the majority shareholder. The thought is troubling. I can't help but run through the other scenario. Where would my legacy go? Legally, it falls down the family lineage. But I don't have any family. Maybe a few distant cousins who probably barely remember me, but other than that... no one. All my family is here in Lilydale. I check the time again, not surprised that only a short period has passed. Left alone with my thoughts, I'm stuck envisioning the worse case scenarios. But once again, I tell myself it's okay. Because I'm the badass who stabbed that motherfucker with a pen.