Chapter 1 My Conspiring Family

Tonight was the most unexpected and unfortunate night of Leah Sinclair’s life as she turned twenty-one, and her entire family was celebrating her half-sister’s engagement to Dash Remington—the same man who had once pursued her relentlessly until she agreed to be his girlfriend. Now, he had chosen to marry her half-sister instead and Leah had no idea this was just the start of something even worse. In a dimly lit hotel room, two bodies were tangled together in heated passion. The air was thick with the scent of intimacy and the sounds of pleasure. The man moved with an almost desperate hunger, his touch possessive as he claimed the petite woman beneath him. “Please… be gentle,” Leah murmured breathlessly as her anxious blue eyes met his stormy, dark ones. For a moment, the man hovering over her stilled. His cold, unreadable eyes flickered with something—confusion? Surprise? But then, without a word, he leaned down and captured her lips again. She writhed and whimpered as he moved lower, his mouth tracing a path over her heated skin. The moment his lips found their way down and stopped between her legs, a sharp gasp left her, followed by a moan of pure ecstasy as his skilled mouth pleasured her. Her mind spun, body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over her—pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her first orgasm. And then came the pain. A sudden, sharp sting that made her cry out as he suddenly entered. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. He stilled immediately, his grip tightening on her hips as though giving her time to adjust to enormously thick length. The pain slowly faded, giving way to a strange, hot, throbbing sensation that made her want more. He moved slowly at first, almost as if making up for what he had taken. But soon, pleasure took over, dragging her into a whole new world. Her desperate cries filled the room, and the sweet sound of her moans only made him thrust into her harder, driving into her with raw, unrestrained passion. The night stretched, their bodies tangled, their breaths mingling in the dark. He didn’t stop—not until she was completely spent, until exhaustion claimed them both. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in the man’s arms while he was still inside her. As the morning light filtered through the cracks in the heavy curtains, disturbing Leah’s sleep, she stirred awake. A dull ache instantly spread through her entire body, making her groan softly. Confused, she tried to sit up—only to realize she was trapped in a pair of strong, muscular arms. Her anxious eyes darted upward, landing on the ridiculously handsome man beside her. He was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, a faint snore breaking the silence of the room. Oh god. She couldn't remember how she ended up in this room. The last thing she recalled was being at her half-sister Ivy's engagement party. Her friends had been comforting her, joking about hiring a male model to help her get over Dash. Then, she drank the juice her stepmother had sent through a waiter—and after that, everything went blank. A sudden realization dawned on her, making her eyes widen in shock. Did her friends actually go through with it? Did they really hire a male model? But what was done was done. Calming her frantically racing heart, she carefully untangled herself from his possessive grip and slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake him. As she moved, a sharp pain shot through her, making her wince and nearly cry out. She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, her body trembling from the soreness between her legs. Her eyes flickered back to the sleeping beast beside her, her mind racing with worry. What the hell had he put inside her to make her this sore? Summoning her strength, she slowly grabbed her clothes and dressed in silence. Just as she reached for her clutch, she realized—if he was an male escort, did she have to pay him? Uncertain, she bit her lip and pulled out two hundred dollars, placing the bills on the pillow beside him. But as she looked at his chiseled features, she felt he was way too gorgeous for just two hundred. With a sigh, she took out three hundred more and added it to the pile. But then, remembering the ache between her legs, she pressed her lips together in annoyance and took a hundred back. Then, she tiptoed to the door, and the moment she stepped out of the room, she hurried through the hotel lobby, keeping her face hidden behind her hair. She quickly flagged down a taxi and slipped inside, eager to get home. When Leah arrived home, she found her father, Richard, her stepmother, Clara, and her half-sister, Ivy, casually enjoying breakfast as if they didn’t care about her absence. The aroma of food made her stomach growl, but the moment they noticed her, their expressions changed. "You were out the whole night?" Ivy gasped dramatically, covering her mouth as if in shock. Leah’s expression turned nervous, and the mother-daughter duo enjoyed the show. Clara had orchestrated everything. She bribed the hotel staff to drug Leah and take her to an old man's suite, ensuring she would be violated and completely ruined—no longer a threat to Ivy’s happiness with Dash. But Clara had no idea the staff had taken Leah to the wrong room. "What are those marks on your neck, Leah?" Clara gasped, feigning shock and pointing at her neck, fueling Richard’s anger. Panic surged through Leah as she quickly tried to hide her neck with her hair, unsure of what Clara was talking about. She hadn’t checked her appearance in her rush to get home. She had no idea that her body was covered in purplish hickeys. "Did you sleep with an old gigolo last night?" Ivy sneered. "Because no man would want you anyway." "What?" Richard barked, storming toward his daughter before slapping her hard across the face. Leah was stunned, her ear ringing from the impact. Before she could recover, another slap landed, sending her crashing to the floor. Tears began stinging her eyes. "You disgraceful girl!" he spat, his face twisted in rage. "How dare you do something like that?" "I told you, Richard, to lock her in her room," Clara snapped, though there was a hint of satisfaction in her eyes as she watched Leah crying on the floor. "She shouldn’t be allowed to go out." "Yes, you're right, honey," Richard hissed before shooting a glare at his daughter. "Listen, you unfilial daughter! From now on, you'll stay locked in your room. You won't set foot outside without my permission." His grip was ironclad as he grabbed Leah’s wrist and dragged her across the house. "No, Dad!" Leah protested. "You can’t do this. I’m an adult!" But Richard dragged her up the stairs and shoved her into her room. She stumbled as the door slammed shut behind her. "Dad!" she pleaded, rattling the locked door. "Please don’t lock me in here!" The memories of her childhood returned, triggering a wave of claustrophobic panic. Whenever little Leah asked to see her mother or disobeyed Clara’s commands, Clara would lock her in a dark, cramped room, leaving her to cry until she passed out from fear. “Dad, please open!” she cried with growing desperation, but Richard didn’t budge. "I told you she was becoming rebellious," Clara whispered. "Did you hear her? She said she’s an adult and we can't do anything. I’m telling you, do something before she becomes a real problem for us." Richard’s jaw tightened as he thought about the very reason Leah was in this house at all. Richard's father had adored Leah so much so that he had ensured every last cent would go to her once she turned twenty-one, making her the sole heiress to the family’s vast fortune. The moment Richard learned his father was drafting a will, he had arranged for the old man’s accidental death. But his plan had backfired. By the time the will was revealed, it was too late—everything was legally Leah’s. Yet, Leah still didn't know about it. And if anything happened to her before she turned twenty-one, every dime, every property, every share of the Sinclair empire would be transferred to a charitable trust. Richard had no choice. He had to keep Leah alive. He had to ensure she stayed with him. He and Clara had been giving Leah drugs to ensure she had no education, no friends, and no lover—making her fully dependent on them and obedient to their every command. "You’re right," Richard murmured darkly. "She’s twenty-one now. It’s time for her to die." Clara smirked wickedly as Richard pulled out his phone to make a call.