Writing is tough, y'all. This chapter has been marinating in my drafts for over a week now. Every time I open Wattpad, all motivated to edit, my brain goes, "Nah, brain's on strike—better luck next time.," and I shut the app like it insulted my ancestors.

It's crazy because, at one point, I was OBSESSED with writing. It was like my drug—so fun, so exciting, so me. I started writing on Wattpad when I was 19. I'm 26 now—running 27—and I'm sitting here wondering if I'm losing interest in the one thing I was once super passionate about (besides tech, of course, because #nerdforever).

So, I'm begging y'all—please be patient with me. Let me write at my own pace. If you're as impatient as me when waiting for updates, just add the story to your wish list, take a nap, live your life, and come back when it's done. Problem solved.

Also, can we talk about how I feel like I'm 62 already, even though I've got about a million things I've manifested that are still pending? Like, excuse me, universe, can you chill?

Anyway, rant over. A very happy New Year to you and your loved ones! Let's hope 2025 brings us all a little more patience, inspiration, and snacks. Stay fabulous!

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The sisters returned to the mansion from their "honeymoon," their faces carefully composed to hide their growing frustration. The luxurious vacation had been turned out to be nothing but full of despair and anguish

Once they were back, the tension among the sisters was palpable. Scarlet was the first to explode, pacing angrily in the lavish sitting room.

"This is outrageous, Soph!" Scarlet fumed. "How long are we going to pretend like everything is fine? They treat us like we don't even exist! All of this for that wench"

Sophia leaned back against the velvet armchair, her expression cold and calculating. "What would you have me do, Scar? March up to them and demand answers? Do you think they'd give us any?"

Shylah, perched nervously on the edge of the couch, interjected. "Maybe... maybe we're overthinking this. Maybe there's nothing—"

Scarlet spun on her, her eyes blazing. "Overthinking? Are you blind, Shy? Scar and I have heard it from our very own ears and that Elijah your husband, he had sl-"

"Scar, shut up" Sophia interrupted. Shylah looked at her sisters in confusion.

"Elijah? What did h-he do?" Shylah asked

"Well he was being an asshole, as he kept praising that fucking whore" Scarlet said rolling her eyes. She didn't want to tell her that he had raised his hand on her while she was unconscious.

Shylah sat on couch with a plop. Her eyes raging with madness.

Sophia passes her a glass of water. "Don't worry Shy. We'll get to the bottom of this, and we'll do it my way. We're not confronting them—not yet. First, we find out who this woman is."

Shylah hesitated. "Shouldn't we talk to Mom? She might know something—"

"No!" Sophia snapped, her voice sharp. "No one can know about this. Not even Mom. We handle this ourselves."

Scarlett nodded slowly, her rage simmering just below the surface. "Then what's the plan?"

Sophia smirked

"You will know soon."

Scarlet's jaw tightened, but she nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But once we find her—"

"We'll make sure she's dealt with," Sophia finished, her voice icy. "Permanently."

Shylah hesitated. "But what if—what if they don't come back to us even after she's gone?"

Scarlet scoffed. "They'll come back. They don't have a choice."

Sophia's gaze hardened. "They'll have no other option, Shy. Trust me."

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.
.

August reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, her hands trembling as her bruised fingers brushed its edge. The glass wobbled precariously but didn't tip over. Her movements froze when the sound of the door opening filled the room, and her heart leapt to her throat.

The Rivera brothers entered one by one. Lucian came first, his presence sharp and oppressive, followed by Elijah, whose dark grin promised trouble. Finally, Alexander stepped in, calm and composed, but with an air of authority that silenced the room.

August's breath quickened. The sight of Lucian made her body tremble, her instincts screaming at her to flee, though her battered body wouldn't allow it. She shrank into the pillows, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

Lucian's gaze locked onto her, his lips curling into a sly, almost cruel smirk. He strode toward her, sitting at the edge of the bed with a deliberate slowness that only heightened her panic.

"Good morning, doll," he murmured, his voice smooth yet tinged with a dark undertone.

"G-Good morning," August stammered automatically, her voice small and shaky.

Lucian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "My little doll is thirsty, hmm?" He reached for the carafe on the table, his movements unhurried. Filling the glass, he held it to her lips, his eyes never leaving hers. "Drink."

August obeyed without hesitation, her trembling lips parting as she drank. Lucian's smirk deepened as he brushed her hair back from her face. "Such a good girl," he murmured, setting the glass aside.

Elijah leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, watching the scene with a mix of amusement and disdain. He clicked his tongue. "You really enjoy this, don't you, Ian? Acting like she's some pet you've trained."

Lucian shot him a sharp look. "Unlike you, I prefer results over games. She listens, doesn't she?"

It was terrifying how casually they spoke about her fate, their voices calm yet laced with chilling intent. They stood in the room, their presence oppressive, as if they didn't even consider her worth enough to keep their plans a secret.

August's breath hitched as she listened to them, her trembling hands clutching the sheets tightly. They weren't even attempting to lower their voices, as though her fear was inconsequential—merely a natural reaction to their dominance.

Lucian, seated at her bedside, was the first to speak, his voice a dark purr. "You see, she already knows what happens when she defies me. Isn't that right, doll?" He turned to her, his sharp eyes locking with hers, and for a moment, she thought she might faint from the sheer weight of his gaze.

Her lips moved soundlessly, her throat too dry to form a reply. Her resolve to stand against them felt like a distant dream now.

He smirked, brushing her hair back with a touch that was almost gentle but sent shivers of dread through her. "Good girl," he murmured. "Fear keeps you quiet. Fear keeps you obedient."

Elijah, leaning lazily against the wall, chuckled darkly. "Ian, your way is so... brutish. It's effective, sure. But I prefer something more... subtle." His grin widened, his twisted amusement sending chills down her spine. "Break the mind, not just the body. A shattered will is far more permanent. She'd come crawling to me on her own, begging for protection. Isn't that right, little dove?"

August flinched at the mockery in his tone, her heart pounding in her chest.

Lucian shot him an annoyed glance. "You'd take too long. I don't have the patience for your theatrics, Eli. Pain works faster. A few well-placed lessons, and she'll learn who's in charge."

Elijah scoffed, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Sure, if you want her to end up like a soulless shell. But me? I'd rather she remember who broke her. Every time she looks in the mirror, she'll see my handiwork."

August's trembling grew worse, her mind racing as their words painted vivid, horrifying pictures. Did they even care that she was right there, listening? Or was this some twisted power play, meant to remind her how utterly powerless she was?

Alexander, who had been silent so far, finally stepped forward. His calm, commanding presence silenced his brothers immediately. He stood at the foot of the bed, his piercing gaze fixed on August.

"She's already afraid. That's enough for now," Alexander said smoothly, his voice low and deliberate. He glanced at Lucian and Elijah, his expression unreadable but firm. "Submission isn't achieved through chaos. It's cultivated through control."

He crouched beside her bed, his voice dropping to a gentler tone as he addressed her. "Look at me, Rose."

Hesitantly, her wide, fearful eyes met his.

"You're trembling," Alexander observed, his words soft but his presence overwhelming. "There's no need for that."

Her lips quivered as she tried to respond, but no sound came out.

Alexander tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. "I want you to feel safe. Do you understand me?"

She nodded shakily, though the fear in her eyes didn't fade.

"Good," Alexander continued, his tone deceptively soothing. "You've been through a lot. But let me make one thing clear—your survival depends on obedience. You don't have to fear me, Rose, as long as you follow the rules."

He reached out, tilting her chin upward so she couldn't look away. "Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Good girl." His lips curved into a faint smile, one that sent chills down her spine. He released her and rose to his full height, turning to his brothers.

"Ian. Eli." Alexander's tone sharpened, his gaze now focused on them. "Control isn't about breaking her into pieces. It's about ensuring she knows who holds her fate."

Lucian's smirk faltered, and Elijah raised an eyebrow, his twisted grin fading slightly.

Alexander's calm demeanor turned icy. "Your methods are... entertaining, but ultimately reckless. Fear is fleeting. Dependency is fragile. But respect—the kind ingrained through consistency and dominance—is eternal."

Lucian raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose you're the expert?"

He glanced back at August, who was now curled into herself, clutching the sheets as though they could shield her. "She'll stay in line because she knows she has no other choice.

Alexander's gaze didn't waver. "I don't need to hurt her to bend her to my will. That's the difference between me and the two of you."

Elijah smirked, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ah, the almighty Alexander. Always playing the long game. But tell me, brother, how long do you think it'll take before your little... patience strategy backfires?"

Alexander ignored him, his focus shifting back to August. His voice softened slightly, though the underlying authority remained. "Don't mistake their chaos for choice, Rose. Your path was decided the moment you stepped into our world."

August's chest heaved, her breathing shallow and rapid. It was as if the room was closing in on her, the weight of their words pressing down like a vice.

Lucian leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You should count yourself lucky, doll. At least you get the privilege of learning from all three of us. Some might call that... a unique education."

Elijah chuckled, his laugh sending a shiver through her. "Let's just hope she survives it. Body, mind, and all."

Alexander turned on his heel, his tone final as he addressed his brothers. "Enough for now. She's awake. Let her rest. We don't need her breaking—yet."

Lucian stood reluctantly, his gaze lingering on August's pale, trembling form. "Rest well, doll," he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Elijah followed him out, but not before tossing a mocking wink in her direction. "Sweet dreams, little dove. You'll need them."

When the door finally clicked shut, August crumpled into herself, tears streaming down her face. Their words replayed in her mind, each one a knife carving deeper into her fragile sanity. They weren't even worried she'd overheard. Why would they be? To them, she was nothing but a pawn in their cruel, twisted game—a game they had no intention of losing.

The brothers are fucked up 💀