“Bring her home,” he told the guards. “Lock her in the basement.”

They dragged me by the arms through the lower deck, past the shocked eyes of strangers, the stained memories of roses and red wine. Through the private corridor, into the black car waiting at the dock.

That night, I didn’t sleep in silk. I slept on a cold stone. Beneath the house I once ruled.

While she lay in a hospital bed, faking every breath.

And Hakeem… still hadn’t learned to see the difference.

---

The next morning, his men took me out again from the basement. I didn't even have a chance to change my clothes or clean my wounds. The car ride was fast. Violent. No one said a word. When we stopped, I stepped out into the rain. Cold. Heavy. It soaked my clothes in seconds, but that wasn’t what made me freeze.

It was where we were.

Cemetery.

No. Not here!

My heart dropped. I took a step back, chest tightening. Panic wrapped around my ribs like a vice.

“Hakeem,” I breathed. “Please. Don’t do this. Not here.”

He was already standing a few feet away, still as stone, rain dripping off his coat. He didn’t speak at first. Just stared at me like he didn’t recognize me anymore.