Chapter 11 011
Rhea's POV
I sat on the concrete floor of the cell, my fingers white-knuckled as they wrapped around the cold, rusted bars.
I cried until my chest burned, until my throat felt like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper.
In twenty-seven years, I'd never known a pain quite like this. This was my heart being torn apart, piece by piece, every accusation ripping a little deeper.
I had been humiliated on a global scale. Millions of strangers were currently scrolling through their phones, waiting for the headline that said I'd been sentenced to death.
I was condemned before a trial had even begun.
And my parents? Not a single word. No defense. Nothing. They chose Owen—that psychopath—over their own daughter. Again.
A sharp, jagged sob tore from my lungs, echoing off the cinder block walls.
"Shut it, Winters!" a female guard barked, her boots clicking heavily on the linoleum as she marched past. "Save the theatrics for the judge."
"I'm innocent," I wheezed, my forehead pressing against the cold metal. "I didn't do it. Please..."
She rolled her eyes and stalked away, muttering under her breath.
The silence crept back in, thicker than before, pressing down on my chest until it was hard to breathe.
I slid down onto the filthy floor, pulled my knees close, and rocked faintly.
Then, the sound of footsteps returned. These weren't the guard's bored shuffles; they were heavy, arrogant, and fast.
My heart leaped. Alejandro? I snapped my head up, hope surging through me. But as the figure stepped into the harsh fluorescent light, the hope died instantly, replaced by a cold, visceral nausea.
It was Owen, smirking like the devil himself, flanked by one of his cronies; a smug face I'd seen at the bar, at his wedding to Brenda, at family gatherings where he'd always hover too close.
Owen stood there, one hand on his hip, and actually had the audacity to wave at me with the other like we were old pals.
"Hey there, sister-in-law."
"You monster!" I hissed, scrambling to my feet.
I lunged at the bars, my voice cracking as I screamed every curse word I knew.
"You killed her! You killed Brenda, and you're pinning it on me! I'll kill you, Owen! I swear to God!"
"Shh, dear sister-in-law," he cooed, glancing around with feigned concern. "You're only drawing more attention. And if I were you, I wouldn't do that. Not with the whole world already convinced you're the villain."
I glared at him, the heat in my chest so intense I half-expected him to catch fire. I wanted to reach through the bars and physically tear that look off his face.
I hated everything about him; the way he carried himself like he owned the air I was breathing, and the casual, careless way he broke people just because he could.
"You killed their precious Brenda," he continued, leaning in closer, his breath fogging the bars.
"Now the world's against you. Poor little Rhea."
Brenda had been an up-and-coming influencer, her feed a glossy parade of perfect outfits, sponsored trips, and that radiant smile.
She'd built a following who adored her, mourned her suicide like a personal loss.
Owen knew exactly what he was doing. He hadn't just framed me; he'd fed me to a pack of wolves.
He'd turned her fan base into a weapon, and now millions of strangers were grieving her death by calling for mine.
"Why are you doing this?" I screamed, losing the last thread of my sanity. "I didn't kill her, and you know that! What is wrong with you?"
He stepped closer, so close I could see the flat, dead look in his eyes. His voice dropped, low enough that only I could hear.
"We can end this right now, Rhea. All of it."
I felt a sick lurch in my stomach. I knew what was coming, but I just stood there, my palm gripping the bars until it turned white.
"Give me what I want," he said. "Marry me. Step into Brenda's shoes—help me keep her memory alive. I'll clear your name....poof, like it never happened. Took me three minutes to destroy your world; it'll take even less to rebuild it."
The offer felt like something crawling over my skin. I was shaking, my chest heaving, but the damp cold of the cell was starting to settle in my bones.
It was a reminder of exactly where I was, and exactly how much power he had to keep me here.
"I'd rather rot," I spat, my voice trembling with fury. "I'd rather die in this cell than let you touch me. If prison is the only way to stay away from you, then fine. Lock me up."
Owen's jaw clenched. In a flash of movement, he slammed his hand against the bars right next to my face.
The metal rattled violently, the vibration shaking my entire body.
"This is just the beginning, Rhea," he snarled. "Let's see how brave you are after a week in the general population."
He turned on his heel and vanished into the shadows of the hallway. I slid down the wall, my strength evaporated, and dissolved into a fresh fit of sobs.
Apologies wouldn't fix this. Nothing would. Those fake papers were enough to bury me, and if they ended up in court, I was finished.
My life had never been easy—just an endless cycle of chasing my parents' attention, working double shifts, dodging bill collectors, and pretending the ache of my heartbreak didn't exist.
I hadn't lived a full life. I couldn't end like this, rotting in a hole while the world moved on, forgetting I'd ever existed, convinced I was a monster who deserved it.
Where was Alejandro? Had Lisa even gotten through to him? And if she did, why would he even show up?
We had too much history—the kind that leaves scars. But he was my only shot now, the one with enough weight to move a mountain like this.
I just needed him to forget he hated me for five minutes, hoping he'd set aside our toxic past, and let some shred of humanity win out.
For hours, I sat curled up on the cold floor, tears drying into salty tracks on my cheeks, the cell's dim light flickering like my fading hope.
Then, a familiar voice boomed down the hallway. It was sharp, loud, and sounded like it was ready to burn the building down.
"I don't give a damn what time it is, and I care even less about your paperwork. I'm taking her home tonight."
"Alejandro..." I whispered, scrambling toward the bars. I tried to shove my face between the metal slats, desperate to see him.
I heard him yelling and barking threats at the captain, the kind of threats only a man like him could get away with.
Suddenly, the shouting stopped. The heavy security door gave a loud, mechanical buzz and clicked open.