From His Toy to His Worst Nightmare

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The arranged marriage came out of nowhere, but I nodded and agreed without a single second of hesitation.

The engagement party was an intimate affair, strictly reserved for immediate family. No outsiders. No unwanted noise.

Just as I picked up my champagne glass to toast my future in-laws, my older brothers phone rang, loudly interrupting the quiet elegance of the room.

He answered it, his tone dripping with casual amusement. "Hey man, it is Sherry's engagement party today. Where the hell are you? She used to follow you around calling you her favorite big brother back in the day."

Dead silence echoed from the receiver.

It took a painfully long time before I heard Rowans voice bleeding through the speaker. It was hoarse, fractured, and completely unrecognizable. "Who is getting engaged?"

Nobody knew our secret. For five years, I had been completely devoted to him, the absolute best friend of my older brother. We had been dating in the shadows for three of those years.

It was a toxic, hidden relationship, and I only found the courage to finally kill it when his adopted sister returned from overseas.

"So, you finally cut the cord with that mysterious boyfriend of yours?" my brother, Cole, asked over the phone. He was clearly enjoying the drama.

I couldn't really blame him. For three years, I had stubbornly refused to tell him who I was dating.

He had warned me plenty of times. "A guy who refuses to walk through our front door and shake my hand is a coward. He is not going to step up for you. It is going to crash and burn, Sherry."

I was completely deaf to his advice back then. I was foolish enough to believe that raw, unwavering devotion could fix a broken man.

Reality ended up slapping me right across the face.

"Yeah," I replied, keeping my voice flat. "We are done."

My blunt answer caught him off guard. The line went quiet for a moment.

"Did he hurt you?"

I thought I was completely numb to the situation, but that single protective question made my throat tight. I took a shaky breath and shook my head at the empty room. "No. It was just time to walk away."

"Alright. Because if he laid a finger on you, I would bury him." Cole sighed. "Sherry, most guys out there are trash. If you are actually ready to settle down, let me find someone on our level. Someone who will actually treat you right."

"Okay," I whispered. "Set it up. I am flying back to New York the day after tomorrow."

I had barely ended the call when the bedroom door clicked open. Rowan walked in. "Who were you talking to?"

I kept my back to him, terrified he would see my red eyes. "Just a friend from college."

"Right."

He walked right past me without a second glance and headed straight for his study.

We had been officially together for three years, and he had always been this freezing cold. I used to justify it. I told myself it was just his personality, that he was guarded and emotionally unavailable to everyone.

Until last night.

I had finished a business trip early and rushed back to our Los Angeles penthouse, hoping to surprise him.

His study door was usually locked tight, but last night, it was left slightly ajar. A sliver of warm, golden light spilled onto the hardwood floor.

I crept closer, raising my hand to knock, but the sight inside paralyzed me.

Rowan was sitting at his heavy mahogany desk, his face twisted in a look of desperate, painful pleasure. His eyes were glued to his phone screen, his breathing ragged, his hand moving rhythmically beneath his waistband.

I stood frozen in the hallway.

The picture on his screen was not some random model. It was Tina. The sweet, innocent girl his family had adopted.

He was so consumed by his twisted fantasy that he never even heard me stumble backward and walk out the front door.

I spent the entire night sitting in a cheap hotel room, staring at the wall, putting the puzzle pieces together.

I finally understood everything. His coldness over the last three years had nothing to do with his personality. His refusal to go public with our relationship had nothing to do with being afraid of Cole finding out.

It was all a smokescreen. He never loved me. He just needed a convenient, disposable girlfriend to hide his repulsive obsession with his adopted sister.

I chased him, and he used me as a human shield.

Later that evening, Tina posted a photo on her social media. "Flying back home tomorrow! Someone better come pick me up!"

After hanging up with Cole, I ordered a cab back to the massive, sterile mansion I shared with Rowan. I needed to pack the last of my things.

He was sitting at the marble kitchen island, eating breakfast. He glanced up as I walked in and calmly instructed the housekeeper to prepare another plate.

"I didn't know you were coming back this morning," he muttered, not looking away from his tablet. "I didn't tell them to make enough for two."

"It's fine," I nodded.

He didn't know because he never bothered to ask. He never cared where I was.

Rowans hand froze over his coffee cup. He finally looked up from his screen, a flicker of confusion crossing his dark eyes.

Normally, I would have squeezed onto the stool next to him, snatched the toast right off his plate, and joked about how he was starving his poor girlfriend. Or I would have wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing his cheek and asking if he missed me.

Rowan was a brilliant, highly observant CEO. He instantly registered the dead, empty space between us.

But he didn't push. He just nodded. "I am heading to the office. Take your time."

The housekeeper handed him his tailored suit jacket. He paused.

For a split second, I thought he was waiting for me to jump up and help him put it on, just like I always did. But he just slid his arms into the sleeves himself.

The heavy front door clicked shut. His footsteps faded away.

"Ms. Davis, what would you like to eat?" the housekeeper asked gently.

I shook my head. "Nothing, thank you. Could you bring some cardboard boxes to the bedroom? I have a lot of packing to do."

I dragged my suitcase into the master suite and started dumping my clothes and toiletries inside. Once my personal items were cleared, I walked into his sprawling walk-in closet.

Over the years, I had bought him countless gifts. Silk ties, custom platinum cufflinks, designer watches, tailored shirts. He barely touched any of them. The only time they ever saw the light of day was when I practically forced him to wear them.

Just like his girlfriend, my gifts were kept hidden in the dark.

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and started tossing every single thing I had ever bought him into a box.

It took hours. By the time I was done, I was exhausted. I sat on the edge of the mattress, catching my breath.

My phone buzzed. A text from Rowan.

"Sent the driver to get you. He will be there in thirty."

Short, demanding, lacking any context. He just expected me to show up wherever he wanted. He was so incredibly used to me dropping everything to please him.

I let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh.

Perfect timing. It was a great opportunity to look him in the eye and say it was over.

The VIP lounge was drenched in pulsing neon lights and heavy bass.

This used to be my playground. I was born into old money, spoiled rotten, and completely fearless. Back in New York, my friends called me the life of the party.

Then I met Rowan at Coles university alumni gala. I was completely captivated by his icy, untouchable aura.

I practically interrogated Cole, trying to find out if Rowan was single.

Cole rolled his eyes. "With that freezing personality? Women are terrified of him."

I was thrilled. He was ice, I was fire. We were a perfect match.

I started hunting him down behind my brother's back. I even changed my college applications at the last minute, ditching New York for Los Angeles just to be near him.

Cole lost his mind when he found out. He yelled at me for hours, but he loved me too much to stay mad. He eventually called Rowan and asked him to keep an eye on his little sister in the new city.

I thought I was an absolute genius. I thought I had manipulated both Cole and Rowan perfectly.

Looking back now, I was just a tragic, delusional clown.

A waiter opened the heavy velvet door to the private room. It was packed and loud.

Rowan rarely brought me around his inner circle. But the few times he did, he treated me with a distant sort of respect.

I remember the very first time he introduced me. One of his friends smirked and said, "Damn, except for Tina, Rowan never brings girls around. You must be special."

Back then, I just thought of Tina as his little sister. I was stupid enough to think his cold exterior was just a shell, and that deep down, I was actually melting his heart.

Now I realized he brought me around purely to maintain the facade. A zero-effort tactic to keep me insanely loyal while deflecting rumors.

I froze just outside the door.

Inside, someone whistled loudly. "Rowan, you keep your girl locked up tight. We never see her. But now Tina is back. Your absolute favorite little sister. We gotta know man, who is more important? The girlfriend or the sister?"

I held my breath. My nails dug into my palms.

Rowan took a slow sip of his bourbon. He didn't say a word.

Tina stomped her designer heel, pouting her glossed lips. "Rowan!"

Rowan finally cracked a smile. He set the crystal glass down on the marble table with a sharp clink.

His cold, velvet voice cut through the room. "A girlfriend is replaceable. I only have one sister. What do you think?"

"Oh, damn! That is cold!" the room erupted in laughter and jeers.

Tina beamed with triumph. She stood up, pointing a manicured finger at the guys around the table. "You, you, and you. Pay up. You lost the bet."

Rowan frowned slightly. "What bet?"

"They bet me twenty grand each that you cared about your girlfriend more than me," Tina smirked.

Amidst a chorus of groans, the guys pulled out their phones to wire her the cash.

Rowan watched them complain and let out a soft, genuine laugh. "You idiots deserve to lose."

I raised my knuckles and knocked on the door.

The raucous laughter died instantly.

Rowan looked toward the entrance. There was an empty seat waiting right beside him.

I ignored it entirely. I walked past him and took a seat in the darkest, furthest corner of the room.

Rowans jaw clenched. "Sherry?"

I offered a polite, empty smile and said nothing.

Tina grabbed a shot glass and strutted over to my corner. "You must be Sherry. I am Tina. Rowan's..." She paused dramatically, faking a moment of hesitation.

"Sister," Rowan supplied smoothly.

Tinas smile tightened with sheer annoyance. She shoved the glass toward me, her tone dripping with petty defiance. "Right. Sister. I just flew in today. Drink with me."

I didn't need to be a genius to feel the toxic waves of hostility rolling off her. That was absolutely not how a sister looked at her brother's girlfriend. It was the look of a territorial rival.

She was in love with him too.

The image of Rowan touching himself to her photo flashed in my mind. The whole situation was utterly repulsive.

I kept my smile perfectly pleasant. "Welcome back. But I am not feeling well today. I will pass on the drink."

Tinas face fell into an exaggerated pout. She looked back at Rowan. "Wow. That is incredibly disrespectful. I fly all the way across the world, this is my welcome home party, and she refuses to drink with me? Do you hate me or something?"

"I said I am not feeling well."

Tinas eyes watered instantly. "Rowan, she really doesn't like me."

Rowan fixed me with a freezing, oppressive glare. "Sherry. Stop acting like a child. Drink it."

A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. "Did you drag me all the way out here just to force me to take a shot?"

He leaned back, his expression completely detached. "Tina wanted to meet you."

Right. Because his precious Tina wanted to look her competition in the eye. They were both using me as a prop in their sick, unspoken game of jealousy.

I stood up. "Cool. She met me. Can I leave now?"

My total lack of obedience was clearly pushing him over the edge. The temperature in the room plummeted.

"What exactly is your problem today?" Rowan's voice was dangerously low.

I looked dead into his eyes, a mocking smile curving my lips. I know exactly what you two are doing. And I am entirely done playing your game.

I turned on my heel to walk out.

Tina lunged forward and grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. "I am the guest of honor tonight. I did not give you permission to leave."

I ripped my arm out of her grip and slapped her hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the dead silent room.

"Who taught you manners?" I asked coldly. "Because clearly, your parents failed."

I stormed down the dim, neon-lit hallway, completely ignoring the drunken shouts spilling from the other rooms.

My chest was tight. I needed air.

I shoved open the heavy club doors and took a massive, shuddering breath of the cool night air. I didn't want to wait for an Uber, so I started walking down the quiet sidewalk to clear my head.

I hadn't gone more than two blocks when a black van slammed on its brakes right beside me.

Instinct took over. I froze, my hand diving into my purse for my phone. I hit the emergency contact button.

Rowan.

Before the call even connected, the side door ripped open. Three men in black ski masks poured out.

A rough burlap sack was shoved violently over my head. A sharp, stinging blow connected with the back of my neck, and the world went completely black.

When I finally regained consciousness, the stench of rust and mold filled my lungs.

My wrists and ankles were bound tight with heavy rope. I was dangling suspended in the air.

"Lower her a bit," a gruff voice echoed through the massive, empty space.

The rope jerked, and I dropped a few feet. A filthy rag was crammed deep into my mouth, making it impossible to scream.

I tried to stay calm. Once they took the gag out, I could negotiate. I had money. I could buy my way out of this.

But before I could even formulate a plan, a massive hand cracked across my cheek.

The force of the slap made my ears ring. Blood instantly flooded my mouth.

The man wearing a cheap plastic mask grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. "Sorry, Ms. Davis. Strictly business. You pissed off the wrong person today."

He leaned in close. "Our boss has a message. Take these hundred slaps like a good girl, and you get to walk away breathing."

"If you fight back, or if you go to the cops, he guarantees you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder."

Tears of pure, agonizing terror burned my eyes.

The masked man looked up at a small security camera mounted on the concrete pillar. "Sir, are we clear to begin?"

A beat of static. Then a voice came through the speaker.

"Yes."

My entire body went rigid. It felt like a bolt of lightning struck my spine.

One syllable. Just one word, but I would recognize that deep, gravelly voice anywhere in the world.

It was Rowan.

The reality hit me like a freight train. He hired thugs to kidnap me. He ordered them to slap me a hundred times.

He was avenging Tina.

I bit down hard on the filthy gag, violent, muffled sobs tearing from my throat as I stared wildly at the camera lens.

He loved her. He loved her so deeply, so psychotically, that he couldn't stand the thought of her suffering a single moment of humiliation.

But how could he do this to me?

Even if he never loved me, I had given him five years of my life. I worshipped the ground he walked on. I was his best friend's little sister!

How could he be this deeply, inherently evil?

I thrashed wildly against the ropes, screaming through the rag, praying he had a single shred of humanity left in his rotting soul.

The speaker remained dead silent.

The slaps rained down. One after another. The sharp, burning agony slowly faded into a dull, terrifying numbness.

Hot blood dripped steadily from my chin onto the cold concrete floor.

When I opened my eyes again, the harsh fluorescent lights of the Pierce familys private hospital blinded me.

Rowan was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back perfectly straight, hands in his pockets. Hearing the rustle of the sheets, he turned around.

"You're awake," he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

I forced my cracked lips into a grotesque smile. "Are you disappointed I didn't die?"

Rowans expression didn't even twitch. "You crossed a massive line yesterday."

"Tina just moved back. You humiliated her in front of our entire circle. How is she supposed to show her face in this city after you slapped her?"

"So you decided a hundred slaps was fair compensation?!" I screamed, grabbing the glass water cup from the nightstand and hurling it at his chest. It shattered on the floor. "You care about her reputation, but what about me?!"

"If you are so desperately in love with her, then go be with her! Why use this sick 'brother-sister' excuse to torture everyone else?!"

"Sherry Davis!"

He barked my name, his entire body going rigid. The calm facade cracked, replaced by a storm of dark, terrifying fury.

He glared at me, his chest heaving. "Tina will only ever be my sister. Do not ever say that again."

"Calm down and stop being so dramatic."

He turned on his heel and walked toward the door.

Just as his hand hit the doorknob, he stopped. Without turning back, he lowered his voice. "I will make this up to you."

"You have been begging me to go public with our relationship, haven't you? Next month, I will fly to New York and officially meet your parents."

I stared at his back, a bitter, hysterical laugh bubbling up in my chest.

How many times had I begged him to meet my brother? He always had a million excuses.

But now that Tina was back, he was suddenly volunteering to lock us down.

He was terrified. He was terrified of his own sickening desires, so he desperately needed a public commitment to me to build a cage around himself.

Did he honestly think I would stay and play the warden for his incestuous little fantasy?

I pulled out my phone and texted Cole.

I am flying home tomorrow.

The ride back to the penthouse was suffocating. Rowan sat in the back of the Maybach, radiating a lethal, freezing silence.

His assistant, who was driving, checked the rearview mirror a dozen times before finally working up the nerve to speak.

"Mr. Pierce, if you keep blindly protecting Tina and hurting Ms. Davis like this... you are going to lose her for good."

Rowan stared out the tinted window, ignoring him.

The assistant took a nervous breath and pushed harder. "Ms. Davis gave you everything. When she was in college, she was the absolute IT girl. Guys were lining up around the block just to talk to her, but she never looked at anyone but you."

"She was so wild and free back then. But she completely erased her own personality to fit into your world. You hated bright colors and tight dresses, so she threw out her entire wardrobe and only wore white for you."

"When you were working yourself to death and neglecting your health, she spent weeks tracking down holistic recipes. She stood in the kitchen for hours learning to make your favorite soups. She burned her hands so badly she had blisters for weeks."

"When you drank yourself into a bleeding ulcer trying to close that tech merger, she sat on the hospital floor and cried the entire night. But the second you woke up, she wiped her face and smiled at you like nothing happened."

The assistant choked up. Even he felt the crushing injustice of it all. He had gone to the same university. He remembered the blazing, radiant girl Sherry used to be. Seeing her crushed into a submissive, battered shadow just to appease a man who clearly preferred his adopted sister was sickening.

"Shut up," Rowan snapped, his voice dangerously low.

But the assistant couldn't stop. He looked at Rowan through the mirror with a look of genuine pity. "Boss, people have limits. Once a heart goes completely cold, you can't warm it back up."

Rowans chest tightened violently.

The memory of waking up in the hospital hit him like a physical blow. Sherry sitting in the chair, her eyes bloodshot and swollen, forcing a radiant, exhausted smile just for him.

Another memory flashed. The first time she brought him soup in a thermos. He had caught a glimpse of the angry red burns blistered across her knuckles.

He had only taken one sip before pushing it away. "Don't cook anymore."

He said it because he didn't want her getting hurt again. But he remembered the flash of crushing disappointment in her eyes before she plastered on a bright smile. "Guess you hate the chicken soup. It's okay, I will learn to make chowder next time."

Then, the final image slammed into his brain. The security feed from the warehouse. Sherry suspended in the air, covered in dirt and blood, staring directly into the camera with tears streaming down her bruised face.

Suddenly, Rowan couldn't breathe.

"Turn the car around," he ordered sharply. "Back to the hospital."

The assistants face lit up with massive relief. He whipped the steering wheel hard, tearing back down the avenue.

Just as the Maybach pulled up to the hospital entrance, Rowans phone lit up.

It was Tina. Her voice was trembling with fake, high-pitched sobs. "Rowan, I slipped in the shower. It hurts so much, please come home."

Rowan gripped the phone, his knuckles turning white. He looked up through the windshield. He could see the warm light glowing from Sherrys hospital room window.

"Please, Rowan," Tina whined through the speaker.

Rowan closed his eyes. He took a slow, deep breath, then looked at the rearview mirror. "Drive to the family estate."

The assistant opened his mouth in shock. "But sir"

"I said drive!" Rowan roared.

The assistant flinched, shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the hospital.

I stood by the hospital window, staring down at the street. I had been trying to figure out the logistics of my flight when I saw the sleek black Maybach pull up to the curb.

My heart did a strange, painful stutter.

I didn't know why he came back. Was he here to threaten me again? To make sure I knew my place regarding Tina? Or did a miraculous shred of guilt actually bring him back to apologize?

But a minute later, the Maybach abruptly pulled away from the curb and vanished into the city traffic.

Whatever his reason was, it didn't matter anymore.

I let out a quiet breath and smiled. I was genuinely free.

I stayed awake the entire night. I went through my phone and deleted his contact, his messages, and his email. I opened my photo gallery and permanently erased three years' worth of pictures and videos.

By the time the sun began to rise over the skyline, I walked out of the hospital doors.

The weather was beautiful. The highway to LAX was completely empty.

Walking away from him was infinitely easier than fighting to stay beside him.

I remembered a quote I had read online once: Fate will force you to repeat the same painful lesson until you finally learn how to handle it.

Walking away from the wrong person is the only way to let the right things happen.

Even the universe was telling me to cut my losses.

The flight was smooth. When I landed at JFK, Cole was leaning against a concrete pillar in the arrivals terminal, wearing dark aviators and waving lazily.

"Finally decided to come home?"

Seeing my family, breathing in the chaotic, familiar air of New York... a massive wave of emotion crashed over me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shot him a cocky smirk. "Yeah, I came back to make sure you haven't bankrupted the family empire yet."

Cole barked out a laugh. "Still got a razor-sharp tongue, I see."

He stepped forward and pulled me into a crushing, fiercely protective hug.

"Alright, alright, I will let you have the empire. Having my little sister back is all that matters."

The tears I had been fighting back finally spilled over. I reached up and quickly wiped them against the shoulder of his jacket.

"Come on," Cole patted my back and released me. "I actually prepared a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

Cole smirked and pointed a finger over my shoulder.

My stomach dropped. A terrible sense of dread washed over me. I turned around.

Standing a few yards away, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored coat, was a man who easily stood out from the rushing airport crowd.

Cole slipped his hands into his pockets. "Let's go say hi to your future husband."