Rosette's lips curved into a sly, mocking smile.
"To tell you what," she said. "The day after tomorrow is my birthday. If you agree to be my servant for one day, I'll return the brooch to you."
I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. After a long silence, I forced myself to nod.
"I'll do it."
When her birthday arrived, Evren rented out an entire underground club for her celebration—all because Rosette had said she wanted a thrilling party.
The place glittered with lights and laughter. Evren's friends gathered, raising their glasses to the birthday girl.
And, as always, the spotlight belonged to the two of them—Evren and Rosette.
He gently placed a lace birthday veil on her head, then smiled as he took out a small velvet box.
"Rosette," he said softly, "this is your surprise."
Inside lay a diamond ring.
Evren knelt on one knee to slip it onto her finger, and his friends burst into teasing murmurs.
"Why does this look like a proposal? If I didn't know better, I'd think they were getting married."
"Well, they're not blood-related anyway. If she weren't his foster sister, I bet Evren would've married her long ago."
Their laughter echoed across the hall.
I stood silently in the shadows, my heart splitting open, trembling so hard I could barely breathe.
Then, suddenly—a heavy clang echoed through the air as a massive iron cage descended from the ceiling, containing several hunting dogs. It was supposed to be part of a performance, an underground dog-fighting match for entertainment.
But in the next instant, a metallic crack pierced the air, and the chain snapped.
With a sharp clang, the chain snapped. The cage crashed to the floor, its lock breaking apart.
The starving hounds burst free.
Screams erupted as the dogs lunged at the crowd.
One of them charged straight toward me.
I froze. My body refused to move.
Evren shouted my name somewhere in the chaos—but the next second, searing pain exploded through my arm as the dog's fangs tore into my flesh.
When I opened my eyes again, Evren was already outside, holding a trembling Rosette in his arms, shielding her.
Just when I thought I would die there, the sound of a dog's pained whimper filled the air.
Evren turned back, blood dripping from his palms, and glanced at me—cold and distant.
"Take her to the hospital," he ordered his assistant flatly.
I watched his retreating back through a haze of tears until my vision went black.
...
When I woke up, the scent of disinfectant filled the room. A nurse was changing my IV drip.
Moments later, Evren's assistant entered, carrying a small box.
"Where's Evren?" I asked weakly.
"Mr. Johnson is busy," he replied politely. "He asked me to bring you this."
Inside the box was a brooch. I held it tightly, feeling a flicker of relief—at least Rosette hadn't gone too far this time.
After the assistant left, I scrolled through my phone absentmindedly. That's when I saw it: Rosette's new post.
A video, uploaded an hour ago.
She was standing on a yacht's deck, leaning against a familiar pair of arms—the same hands that had once held me.
The caption read: [The person who loves me the most, even when afraid, still spends every second comforting me.]
My vision blurred.
The last bit of hope in my heart shattered completely.
I remembered how, years ago, Evren once panicked and rushed to the hospital just because he'd been scratched by a monkey during the mountain hike.
But now, covered in his own blood, he could still take Rosette out to watch the sea—leaving me alone in a hospital bed, not even asking if I was alive.
...
A week later, I was discharged.
When I got home, I heard laughter coming from the living room. Evren and Rosette were playing some kind of game.
When Evren took the blindfold and tied it around his own eyes, Rosette pulled out a document from behind her back.
"Brother," she purred, "you still owe me one last birthday gift. Can you give it to me now?"
Evren smiled indulgently. "Anything you want."
"Really? Then I want your signature," she said sweetly. "But you can't peek. You trust me, don't you?"
"Of course," he chuckled. "Whatever you want, you can have it—even if it's my entire fortune... or my life."
Without hesitation, he signed.
When she tucked the document away—her face lit up with triumph.
It wasn't just any paper.
It was our divorce agreement.
A moment later, Evren removed his blindfold, grabbed her by the waist, and pressed her down beneath him.
Their laughter turned to breathless whispers, their silhouettes tangling together.
Between gasps, Rosette murmured, "Brother, Analeia's been in the hospital for a week. Aren't you going to visit her? Won't she notice the brooch is fake?"
Evren smirked. "Don't worry. I had a perfect replica made. Unless she gets it appraised, she'll never know. My little Rosette's too mischievous—throwing the original into the sea."
