Lethal Obsession: The Cartel's Toy

Through the narrow slit of the closet door, I watched my own sister press her lips against my boyfriend's.

My parents had deadbolted me inside this cramped space, all so she could steal my identity. Maddox had been blind for ten long years. His vision had just been restored.

A slow smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. What a complete idiot.

She had no idea that this blind man was the most ruthless tyrant controlling the overseas dark web and a private military. A total psychopath with countless bloodstains on his hands.

I survived ten grueling years locked in a basement.

Now, it is your turn, my dear sister.

Chapter 1

The day after the Ivy League early admissions decisions rolled out, a friend sent me a text.

[ Is your sister seriously this much of a genius? ]

Attached was a screenshot from TikTok. It was an early acceptance letter to a top-tier Ivy League university, complete with a full-ride scholarship.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds. Something was off. Why did every single detail on that acceptance letter match mine perfectly?

But in the name section, it clearly read my sister's name: Leighton. Did she steal a screenshot of my acceptance letter?

My eyes locked onto the heart icon. Over four million likes. How many people had seen this?

A cold dread pooled in my stomach. My thumb swiped down, scrolling through the comment section

Until I hit that one name. Maddox.

[ Long time no see, Leighton. ]

Ten years of pure nightmare slammed into me.

I hurled the phone across the bed.

Maddox was a monster. He was also the first-in-line heir to a ruthless cartel monopolizing the transnational black market. Beneath his pristine, obedient facade lurked a complete psychopath.

During the ten years I was held captive on his private overseas island, I survived by becoming this megalomaniac's most submissive plaything.

The day I finally escaped, I crippled one of his legs. If he caught me, hed have ten thousand ways to tear me apart.

For the two years since Id been back home, I wore a mask every time I stepped outside. I avoided making friends. I intentionally tanked my grades at school.

I erased myself into a ghost, all just to hide from him. Now, four million likes had practically shoved me right down the barrel of his gun.

I threw on a hoodie and stormed straight to Leightons room. It was the first time I had ever stepped foot inside. It was a perfectly curated, pink princess fantasy.

A sharp contrast to my bare-bones room with its cheap paint job. Expensive porcelain dolls littered the corners of her space. Youd have to be blind not to see who the favorite child was.

"Take that video down," I demanded, skipping the pleasantries.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sis."

"That was my acceptance letter."

She froze, then ground her teeth. "So what? You think you're the only one who can get into an Ivy?"

"You think you're the only one who can hack into an account?" I shot back. She was always vain, but I never expected her to hijack my acceptance just to flex online. All the color drained from her face in an instant.

"You scammed your way into that full-ride scholarship anyway!" she snapped. "You couldn't even pass a basic community standardized test, and now you have an Ivy League acceptance? Aren't you terrified I'll report you to the admissions office?"

I lunged for her phone.

She shrieked, her manicured nails flying as she slapped me wildly across the face.

I didn't flinch. I grabbed her by the throat, my fingers digging in, and slammed her hard against the vanity.

Expensive perfume bottles shattered across the marble, raining glass shards that grazed her cheek. I leaned in close, dropping my voice to a dead whisper. "Do you want to die in here?"

Her pupils blew wide. She ripped out a bloodcurdling scream. "Dad! Mom! Vada is trying to kill me!"

Our parents burst through the door. My dad shoved me violently against the wall while my mom pulled Leighton into her arms.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded.

"Mom Vada said shes going to murder me," Leighton sobbed, burying her face.

"She posted my acceptance letter on TikTok! Thats a death sentence!" I yelled. "When I was held captive, there was this psychoI crippled him! If he tracks that post to me, he will slaughter us!"

Smack.

My mother slapped me hard across the mouth.

"You? Getting an Ivy League acceptance? I see you don't just have PTSD, you've completely lost your damn mind." She sneered.

"You've been back for two years, and you're still obsessing over that kidnapping crap! You sleep on the floor, you shut everyone out, your grades are garbage! Can't you just be normal for once?"

She spun around and pointed a trembling finger at my dad. "This is on you! I told you to leave her in that psych ward, but you insisted on bringing her home. Are you trying to destroy this family?"

"I did get that Ivy acceptance! She only"

"And now you're a liar, too?" My dad grabbed my arm, dragging me down the hall and throwing me back into my room. "One more outburst, Vada, and you're going straight back to the hospital."

The deadbolt clicked shut.

I clamped my mouth shut.

For the last two years, my nights were plagued by night sweats. Maddox was in every single nightmare. Just hearing the words cartel or dark web was enough to make my hands shake uncontrollably.

My parents watched me wear a hoodie and mask in the dead of summer, watched me isolate myself, watched me panic at the slightest news of transnational organized crime. They dragged me to countless therapists. None of it fixed me.

Chapter 2

At first, they had patience. But that ran out.

"Every single time, it's the kidnapping! The kidnapping!" theyd shout. "We made one mistake years ago, and youre going to hold it over our heads forever? You didn't even die! Do you really have to torture this family playing the victim every damn day?"

They called me dramatic. Hysterical. They asked who I was putting on this terrified act for.

My nails dug into my palms until the skin turned white. I forced my breathing to slow down in the suffocating silence of my room. I unlocked my phone and clicked on Maddoxs profile. The IP address tracked back to France.

Was I just having another PTSD episode? He was blind. How could he even use a phone? Besides, he would never leave his overseas territory.

I dropped the phone and curled into a tight ball under the blankets.

The second my eyes closed, his scorching breath was back, brushing against my ear. Trailing down my collarbone. Moving lower. It was inescapable.

His large hand clamped around my throat, his heavy, ragged breathing ghosting over my bare shoulder. "You won't ever leave me, right, Leighton?"

"I won't." My lungs burned for air.

"Say you wouldn't even if it killed you."

"Not even if it killed me."

"Then tell me my name."

"Maddox."

A low, dark chuckle vibrated against my skin. "Say it one more time, and I'll make this quick."

"Maddox."

I bolted upright, my chest heaving. My t-shirt clung to my skin, completely soaked in cold sweat.

My name is Vada. My sister is Leighton. During the ten years I was trapped in Maddoxs grasp, he thought I was Leighton. I never corrected him.

Now, just hearing her name makes my throat close up.

Muffled voices echoed from down the hallway. Later I found out the admissions committee had called my dad's phone. Leighton answered it. She had been busy frantically showing off that acceptance letter on TikTok, instantly skyrocketing into a sought-after social media star.

Meanwhile, I was deadbolted inside this room. Not that I wanted to show my face anyway. Her taking the spotlight was exactly what I needed. Leighton slid my meals under the door, her mood visibly soaring higher each day.

I overheard my mom bragging that Leighton had joined the exclusive internal group chats for Ivy League fraternities and sororities, rubbing shoulders with countless heirs of the top one percent, and was even planning to invite them over for a lavish party.

Exclusive internal group chats? I pulled out my phone and logged into the encrypted, burn-after-reading social app. Over ninety-nine unread messages immediately flooded the screen.

To avoid being tracked, my profile was a default silhouette with a blank username. I scrolled through the endless chatter. One user, CY, rarely spoke, but he replied to every single message Leighton sent. Just another one of her desperate followers.

I stared at the screen for two seconds before shutting it off.

Later that night, Leighton actually unlocked my door and walked in.

"Vada, I have a friend coming over tomorrow."

"And?"

"He's an Ivy League elite, too." She paused, narrowing her eyes. "Even though I'm a total fake, I must land a top-tier boyfriend. If you dare get in my way, I will directly destroy you."

Whenever our parents weren't around, the sweet sister act vanished entirely.

"Aren't you afraid of karma, Leighton?"

When I was born, complications starved my brain of oxygen. Growing up, my motor skills were delayed. Everyone thought I was slow. My grades were rock bottom.

Leighton, born three years later, was the exact opposite. She was brilliant, gorgeous, and constantly at the top of her class. She was the golden child. I was the family's dead weight.

Yet, she would publicly vow, time and time again, to take care of me forever.

"Vada is my sister no matter what," she'd tell anyone who'd listen. "When our parents are gone, I'm going to look after her for the rest of my life."

She practically bought herself a halo. Everyone thought she was an absolute saint.

But the second the doors closed, that exact same saint would slap me across the face in my own bedroom, threatening me to hand over whatever she wanted.

I crawled out of that offshore hellhole alive. The only reasons I tolerated her abuse now were to survive, and to watch karma rip her apart.

"You wouldn't want me to post on TikTok about how you were trafficked, would you? Or how you were violated by all those men?" she smirked. "The biological sister of an Ivy League elite was once kept as a shared plaything for an underground cartel. That kind of terrifying scandal would send the gossip media into an absolute frenzy."

Chapter 3

I froze. She really knew exactly how to hit a nerve.

It wasn't the public gossip that terrified me. It was the media frenzy. The thought of that psycho, Maddox, seeing the news coverage. I needed to remain entirely invisible.

But Leighton? That toxic bitch would do anything. She was going to get me killed.

As for her pathetic community college test scores not getting her anywhere near the Ivy League, that lie would detonate the second the semester started anyway.

"Who you screw is none of my business," I said. "But if you leak one word about my past, I will destroy you."

"Oh, I'm absolutely terrified, sis." She smirked, extending a manicured hand. "Deal."

The next day, my parents went all out, preparing a massive dinner spread just to host this 'friend' of hers.

"I heard he comes with a letter of recommendation from a top-tier cartel," my mom gossiped. "His family monopolizes overseas dark assets, and he flies in on a bulletproof private Gulfstream jet."

My dad shot me a dark look. "Take your plate to your room for dinner."

Thanks. Exactly what I wanted.

I grabbed a bowl of fruit, turning to head back to my confinement. The doorbell chimed. Without thinking, I reached out and pulled the door open.

The moment my eyes locked onto that face

Crash.

The glass bowl shattered across the hardwood floor.

The nightmare had just walked into reality.

A suffocating grip clamped around my throat.

"Is Leighton here?"

His eyes were a deep, pitch-black ink. He wore a simple t-shirt with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, looking like a textbook college student. But that voice that voice dragged me straight back to hell.

I dropped to my knees in a panic, scrambling to pick up the spilled fruit. My hands were violently shaking.

"Maddox!" A gust of wind rushed past me. "You're early!" Leighton shoved me aside, practically throwing herself at him with excitement.

Maddox? He was the exact same monster the very one who ruled the dark web! His sudden materialization paralyzed me. My legs turned to lead.

I forgot how to run.

His dark gaze slid over me for a fraction of a second before pulling away. "Sorry. Couldn't sleep last night, so I caught an earlier flight. Do you mind?"

A bright flush spread across Leighton's cheeks. "Of course not." She giggled.

"You said you were in France for meetings, so I thought you wouldn't be here until next week. I could have waited a few days. I feel terrible you had to take the private jet just for me."

The man let out a low sigh. "But I didn't want to wait anymore."

Leighton practically melted, ushering him into the house. As they brushed past me, a dark chuckle vibrated in his chest. "Do I look that terrifying? She seems a little spooked."

"That's my sister" Leighton tapped the side of her head. "She's got some screws loose up here."

"Is that so?" He didn't linger, casually following Leighton into the living room.

It took me five agonizing minutes just to pick up a few pieces of fruit. Then, the second my mom ordered me to run to the corner bodega for ice, I sprinted into the shadowy, concrete stairwell of the fire escape and dialed the narcotics detective who pulled me out of that hellhole years ago.

"That psychopath controlling the dark web just entered the country! You have to move now, he is an absolute butcher!"

I rapidly fired off everythingthe captivity, the history, every sickening detail tying him to Maddox.

"Vada, are you absolutely sure you aren't mistaken?" Detective Victor's voice was painfully calm. "The man you described back then? We couldn't find him in any global database. Besides, this guy's name and age don't match."

"His Ivy League admission followed every legal protocol. He's the top international scholar this year, loaded with academic awards. His grandfather is the chairman of a legitimate multinational corporation with a spotless record. And his vision is perfectly fine."

"How could I be mistaken? I wouldn't mistake him if I were dead!"

"Vada your mother told me you stopped going to therapy."

"You don't believe me?"

"Your mom said you sleep on the hardwood floor every night. That you obsessively lock yourself in confined spaces.

The doctors said survivors who endure the kind of extreme trauma you did it's understandable to have some severe disconnects from reality." He sighed. "Vada, please go back to your sessions."

He was right. For the ten years I was held captive, my entire world was a damp, pitch-black basement. Even now, free and back home, the only way I didn't feel completely exposed was with the solid, unforgiving floor beneath my back. It was my only anchor.

I tried telling my mom I wasn't crazy. I just couldn't stomach the vulnerability of a soft mattress. She slapped me across the face and told me to stop playing the victim.

Chapter 4

She had no idea. During those ten years, the only time my back ever touched a mattress was when Maddox was breaking me down.

I let the phone drop and slumped against the concrete wall of the stairwell, the cold seeping through my hoodie. I spent an entire decade locked in Maddox's shadow. From ten to twenty, I was forced to sit by his side while he studied. No one on earth knew him better than I did.

He was a lethal genius. Even blind, navigating through Braille, he dominated every subject. Did his cartel family hire top-tier private tutors to build an academic prodigy just so he could eventually launder their transnational empire?

A heavy, suffocating weight crushed my chest. For ten years, I played the perfect, submissive pet just to keep breathing. I craved escape like a junkie craving a hit. But he he got addicted to his favorite toy.

The night of his high school graduation, his voice cut through the silence. "Do you truly want me?"

"Yes," I lied without missing a beat.

"Then do you want to belong to me?"

My spine locked up.

He crushed his mouth against mine that night. I didn't dare fight back; it wasn't the first time he'd crossed that line. But this time, the kiss spiraled rapidly out of control.

He deadbolted the bedroom door, ripped the security cameras out of the ceiling, and yanked me flush against his chest, his muscular frame trembling.

"Leighton," he whispered roughly. "I would kill to know what you look like."

"I'm hideous," I choked out. "Three eyes. Two mouths."

"So unique." His thumb traced my jawline. "I love it."

Silence. One night of absolute madness. The cost? The next morning, his mafia father dragged me down to the dungeon and starved me for three days and three nights.

"You convinced my heir to tear down the cameras. You have a death wish, little girl."

I never knew exactly how I got let out. Rumor had it Maddox went feral, tearing the mansion apart and starving himself, even resorting to slashing his own arms until they brought me back.

"The cameras in his suite are gone," the cartel boss said, pressing a gun to my temple. "But I had a biometric heart monitor implanted under his skin. You hurt one hair on his head, and I will rip you apart piece by piece."

After that, Maddox and I were practically glued together. That subcutaneous heart monitor spiked into the red countless times. And with every passing day, his obsession with indulging me grew.

Going to high-end boutiques, watching private theater screenings, drag racing down the coastal highway at midnight Every time we returned, his mafia father would press a loaded gun to his temple in warning. And the very next day, Maddox would clear out an entire city block just for me.

The day I finally ran, I faked wanting to hit up a luxury mall. In the suffocating confines of the fitting room, I straddled his lap, kissing him with a desperate, manic intensity. The exact second he let his guard down and surrendered to the high, I drew the silenced pistol hidden in my thigh-high boot. Without a microsecond of hesitation, I blew a hole straight through his thigh.

The moment the blood splattered, I bolted. I didn't look back as I threw myself into the waiting armored extraction vehicle.

I will never forget his face in that moment. There was no rage. No shock. Not even a single scream of agony. He just sat there in the pooling blood, perfectly still, his pitch-black, sightless eyes tracking my exact direction.

"Leighton," he whispered. "Did the recoil hurt your hand?"

Go to hell. If I hadn't been frantically fighting to escape, the next bullet would have gone straight between his eyes.

I loitered on the streets until six in the evening before finally dragging myself back home. The second I stepped inside, a picture-perfect domestic scene greeted me. Maddox sat quietly on the living room sofa, reading a Braille book in the afternoon sunlight. Leighton was practically fused to his shoulder, scrolling through her phone.

Who the hell would ever suspect that this cold, pristine elite was the same blood-soaked monster ruling the dark web?

Maddox wasn't the only heir in the cartel. So why did a blind son get the kingpin's absolute, undisputed backing? Because his older brothers both died in freak "accidents." Later on, plenty of his father's mistresses tried to secure power by getting pregnant. Without exception, every single one of them ended up either dead or permanently crippled.

Every time news of another grisly family death dropped, I'd find Maddox calmly running his fingers over his textbooks, casually crunching complex mathematical formulas. The hairs on the back of my neck would stand straight up. Beneath that harmless, academic shell what kind of absolute demon was I living with?

I forced the violent trembling in my hands to stop. He had never seen my face. He couldn't possibly recognize me.

I stared at him for barely a fraction of a second, but it was like he had radar. His head snapped up, those dark eyes locking dead onto my line of sight.

My pulse spiked, but I kept my face utterly blank as I walked toward the kitchen to grab a drink.

"Your sister is back," he murmured, alerting Leighton.

"Oh." Leighton didn't even bother to glance up, tightening her grip on his arm. "What do you want to drink, babe? I'll go get it for you."

Chapter 5

Maddox glanced at me, snapped the Braille book shut, and said softly, "I'll get it."

"Maddox, you're going to spoil me," Leighton whined, clinging to his arm.

He peeled her fingers off him, stood up, and walked straight toward me.

I wanted to bolt from the kitchen, but his long strides closed the distance in seconds. He was right in front of me. I grabbed a bottle of lemonade and pressed my back against the counter to let him pass. My eyes frantically darted around the kitchen, scanning for anything sharp enough to slash a throat.

While I was practically vibrating with adrenaline, he remained unbothered. A faint smirk touched his lips. He stopped at the fridge and let his dark gaze drop to the bottle in my hand.

"Is the lemonade good?"

I pressed my lips into a hard line and kept my mouth shut.

He didn't press it. He grabbed a lemonade for himself, casually called out to ask what Leighton wanted, pulled out an orange juice, and strolled back out as if he owned the place.

The second his back turned, the breath I didnt realize I was holding punched out of my lungs. I gripped my drink and practically fled upstairs.

"Is your sister mute?" I heard him ask casually, the sound of pages turning echoing in the hallway.

"Her? She has crippling social anxiety. She barely talks to us either, don't read into it."

"I see"

I tuned out the rest, slipping into my room. The door shut. The deadbolt clicked.

I had no idea when he finally left the house. That night, Leighton barged into my room and swung at my face again.

"Don't think playing the silent, tragic mute is going to get his attention. He doesn't fall for that low-rent garbage."

This time, my hand snapped up. I caught her wrist mid-air, stopping the slap dead in its tracks.

"I highly suggest you run a deep background check on him before you dive in headfirst," I warned. I actually considered telling her to stay the hell away from Maddox. But after that stunt? The sudden urge to play savior evaporated.

"I'm warning you, Vada, stay out of my way!" She yanked her arm back. "He is obsessed with me. He said it wasn't love at first sighthe said he feels like he's known me for a long time. He even asked if I had amnesia or something Anyway, he's taking me to the movies. Isn't that wild?"

Amnesia?

I froze. So Maddox thought Leighton had amnesia? Thats why she couldnt remember the past? He actually mistook her for me?

I stayed dead silent for a full minute as the realization clicked into place. This wasn't bad news. This was a godsend.

"Buy him ice cream at the theater," I dropped the line casually.

"Why the hell would I listen to you?"

"The underground mafia doesn't eat popcorn at the movies."

She opened her mouth to argue, then clamped it shut. She remembered exactly who I was sold to. Suddenly, my advice had a lot more weight.

"What other weird habits do they have?" She leaned in. "Tell me."

"And why would I do that?"

"I'll give you half my allowance."

"How much?"

"Three grand."

A bitter laugh almost caught in my throat. Our parents gave me three hundred a month. They were handing Leighton three thousand?

"Make it two thousand. And you never bother me again." I paused, forcing my voice to tremble slightly. "It's traumatizing for me to dredge up those memories."

"Deal. Once I lock him down, I won't have the time to waste on you anyway."

She gritted her teeth and wired the two grand straight to my phone.

"I'm exhausted," I said flatly. "You can ask for more details tomorrow after the movie."

She spat out a final warning: if I was screwing with her, she'd make me pay it back double.

The truth was, I totally played her. Eating ice cream at the movies wasn't some underground mafia custom. It was purely Maddox's obsession. Whenever we watched a film, hed take a bite of freezing ice cream and force his mouth over mine. It was his sick, twisted fetish.

The next day, Leighton sprinted into my room, practically buzzing with victory.

"He almost kissed me!" she squealed. "But he said he didn't want to scare me, so he's saving it for next time."

My chest tightened painfully. I forced my expression to remain utterly deadpan. "Really? Congrats."

Watching her revel in her delusional fantasy, I couldn't stop the question from slipping out. "Did he did he lose his temper with you?"

Maddox had a notoriously explosive, violent temper. A guy accidentally bumped my shoulder once. Maddox chopped off his hand.

Chapter 6

That pristine, civilized exterior was nothing but a sickening mask.

"Are you kidding? He's obsessed with being gentle," Leighton bragged, rolling her eyes. "He barely even raises his voice around me. He said since I like him this way, he'll be like this forever."

I stared at her, genuinely questioning my own hearing. When had the ruthless, dictatorial Maddox ever compromised for a single breathing soul?

In my world, I was the only one forced to yield. If he wanted to kiss me, his mouth was on mine. If he wanted to drag me into bed, he took me. Time, location, audiencenone of it mattered. I couldn't fight back. Resistance only triggered a darker, more feral madness in him.

"You're dying of jealousy, aren't you?"

"I hope you two are very happy together," I deadpanned. I had absolutely nothing else to say to her.

Honestly, I was starting to question if this guy was actually Maddox. Was it just a terrifyingly accurate doppelganger?

"He actually asked if I wanted to go shopping at the mall tomorrow," she added.

"Shopping?"

A violent tremor shot through my fingers.

"Yeah, he said he wants to escort me." Leighton tossed a small cardboard box onto my desk. "He bought these off some street vendor on our date today. He got an extra one. Consider it your lucky day."

She crossed her arms. "You got your bribe. Now tell me, does the underground mafia have any weird habits when they go to the mall?"

I stared down at the vintage porcelain music box sitting inside the carton. A vicious pulse hammered against my temples.

"He bought this?"

"Yeah. Who would've thought a six-foot-two alpha male would be into such childish junk? He said he felt sorry for the pathetic old man selling them on the corner, so he bought two. Honestly, I think it's completely tacky."

My lungs seized. I couldn't form a single word.

Of course he didn't like it. I was the one obsessed with those stupid vintage music boxes. He mocked me for it constantly, but he still allowed the cheap trinket to sit on the nightstand in his high-security suite. What he never knew was that the music box was hollowed out and packed with a micro-transmitter. And the 'pathetic old man' selling them was the undercover narcotics detective pulling me out.

"You haven't answered me," Leighton snapped, dragging me back to reality. "Don't forget our little arrangement. You've been getting awfully comfortable lately."

She was right. Leighton hadn't laid a hand on me in weeks. I was actually getting a full night's sleep on the floor. In exchange, I had to play her strategist, feeding her intel to help her lock Maddox down.

"Why don't you take him to a crowded luxury outlet?" I forced my voice to stay level. "The cartels operate in massive, chaotic black markets. They supposedly thrive in the chaos."

"Damn, Vada, I never realized how useful you actually are. When I marry him, I'll totally let you be a bridesmaid."

She spun on her heel and practically skipped out of my room.

The second the door clicked shut, my eyes locked back onto the music box. I grabbed a heavy paperweight from my desk and smashed it down hard.

The inside was hollow. Aside from the jagged shards of painted ceramic and a twisted metal voicebox, it was empty. The damaged voicebox sputtered out a warped, metallic tune. Somewhere over the rainbow way up high

Maddox really did mistake Leighton for me. Logically, I should be thrilled. I was off the hook. But it was too clean. Too flawless. A sickening knot of dread tightened in my gut.

Two agonizingly quiet weeks dragged by. Leighton started coming home later and later.

Then, on a Saturday afternoon, she burst through the front door in the middle of the day. She was absolutely hysterical.

She collapsed into our parents' arms, sobbing violently, screaming that Maddox had completely lost his mind and nearly hit her.

"He took me to the high-end outlets, just like I wanted!" she choked out between sobs. "I went into the fitting room, but then I slipped out to buy him an iced latte. When I came back, he completely snapped! He pinned me against the wall, his hands wrapped around my throat, screaming at me, asking why I was trying to leave him and where the hell I thought I was running to"

Leighton was a complete wreck. My parents were furious, hurling every curse word in the book at Maddox's name.

I stood frozen at the top of the second-floor landing. I kept my face a blank slate, looking down at the absolute chaos unfolding below.

A few minutes later, the heavy oak front door chimed. It was Maddox.

"I am deeply sorry. I take full responsibility for my inexcusable behavior today." His voice was flawlessly calm.

"Get the hell out of my house! Keep your damn apologies!" my dad roared.

"I don't care how much old money your cartel family throws around! You put your hands on my daughter! What kind of sick bastard do you think I'd hand her over to?" my mom screamed. Their stance was ironclad.

Maddox didn't flinch. He respectfully placed a stack of velvet gift boxes onto the marble coffee table. A dead, suffocating silence hung in the air for several agonizing seconds before he finally spoke.

"When I was ten years old, I was abandoned." He kept his sightless gaze fixed straight ahead. "It was my mother. She took me to the department store to buy a new suit. She told me to wait for her outside the fitting room."

He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. "She never came back."

Chapter 7

He paused for a few seconds. The edges of his eyes reddened slightly. "Today I was just too terrified for Leighton's safety. I triggered a severe trauma response."

"Whether Leighton ever wants to see me again or not, I refuse to let her live in fear because of a misunderstanding. As an apology, my grandfather ordered me to bring this." He extended the velvet box toward Leighton. It was the exact pink diamond necklace that headlined the recent Sotheby's auction, rumored to have been bought by a shadow billionaire for twenty million dollars.

Maddox had once asked me what kind of jewelry I liked. He said hed buy me anything. Id glanced at the TV and lazily pointed at the screen. Sure. I want that exact necklace the British royal is wearing. He only said one word: Done.

Seeing Maddox on the verge of tears completely broke Leighton. Her eyes welled up instantly. "I'm so sorry I had no idea about your mother"

"Did they ever find her?" my mom asked, her voice softening.

"No. My father said she's likely dead."

A heavy silence fell over the living room. Standing on the second floor, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Maddox deserved a damn Oscar. In all the years I spent locked up with him, I never heard a single word about any of this.

"Maddox, I'm so sorry." Leighton sniffled. "If you want, my parents will treat you like family. You can treat my mom like your own."

"It's alright." Maddox gently pulled her hand into his. "Does it still hurt?"

"No."

"Wait, I thought he choked you?" my dad frowned.

Leighton looked away. "No, he just gripped my wrist. I exaggerated."

"You ridiculous girl, Maddox was just worried sick about you!" my mom scolded.

"It's all Vada's fault!" Leighton quickly pushed the blame entirely onto me. "She's the one who practically forced me to go to the outlets and buy you that iced latte. None of this would have happened if she hadn't pushed me."

"Oh?" The fragile, grieving son act vanished in a microsecond. Maddox tilted his head up slightly. Those pitch-black, sightless eyes locked dead onto my exact position on the second-floor landing. "She told you to go to the outlets and buy the latte?"

My heart slammed against my ribs. I threw myself backward, pressing my spine flat against the hallway wall, out of sight.

"Yeah, my sister is a complete psycho to me," Leighton whined. "But just forget about her, Maddox. It was all a misunderstanding today. I'll listen to you from now on. I promise I'll never wander off without telling you again. Do you want to go hang out in my room?"

"Is that appropriate? It's getting late."

"It's totally fine! Since it's so late, you should just stay the night. You can sleep in my room, and I'll crash with my sister."

"Will the two of you have enough space?" Maddox asked mildly.

"Oh, it's not a problem. Vada is actually heading to our grandmother's house tonight. Right, Dad?" Leighton shot my dad a desperate look.

My dad froze for a second. "Right. Yes."

"Is she really?" Maddox's head angled slightly toward the second floor again. "Actually, I can just sleep in your sister's room. I won't touch her things."

"You don't like my room?" Leighton pouted.

"No, I just don't want to kick you out of your own bed. As long as you're comfortable, I don't care where I sleep."

Leighton absolutely melted. "You're way too good to me."

I shook my head in the shadows. Delusional.

I slipped back into my bedroom. Moments later, my mom stormed in, slamming the door behind her. She raised her hand to slap me, but I caught her wrist mid-air.

"Why are you so damn jealous?" she hissed.

"Jealous of what?" I asked flatly.

"You know exactly what. You see your sister getting an Ivy League acceptance and locking down a top-tier billionaire boyfriend, so you start playing your sick little manipulative games to ruin it."

A sharp, humorless laugh escaped my throat. "Top-tier? He is a monster. You better put a leash on your precious daughter, or he's going to get this entire family slaughtered."

My mom stared at me, her eyes wide with shock. She had never seen the usually terrified, submissive Vada talk back like this.

"When did you become such a vicious bitch? Is that how you speak to your mother?"

"You think he's a monster? Look in the damn mirror! Hes an Ivy League elite! What the hell are you? Kids who get into the Ivy League spend their whole lives working hard. You think he could possibly be worse than a piece of trash like you?"

"Test scores only filter for high IQ," I said coldly, dropping her wrist. "They don't filter out psychopaths."

Chapter 8

"Do you hear yourself?" My mom fumed. "Stop being so bitter just because you can't have what she has."

I stared at her, my face completely blank. "Am I even your biological daughter? Or am I some dirty little secret you're trying to hide? Why else would the scales be tipped so violently in her favor?"

Smack. Her hand cracked across my face. "How dare you!"

The skin on my cheek burned hot. A slow, dark smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. "It doesn't matter if we share blood or not. With this slap, we're even."

Her eyes widened in horror at my deadened tone. "Get the hell out of my house! Pack your bags and go rot in your grandmother's weed-and-mold smelling trashy trailer park!"

I ignored her. I turned my back and began throwing clothes into a duffel bag. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Detective Victor.

"What happened? You sounded frantic when you texted me about having critical intel."

"It's nothing," I said, locking my emotions down.

Ten minutes ago, I had texted him, ready to blow the whistle on Maddoxready to tell him this Ivy League scholar was the dark web tyrant. But I changed my mind. If I had clung to even a microscopic sliver of hope for my parents and sister, that slap completely obliterated it. Showing mercy to monsters only fueled the rot in this world. Surviving was hard enough on its own. I would sit back and let them face their own brutal karma.

"Vada, I've been thinking about what you said the other day," Victor's voice softened. "I was out of line. If there's something you need to tell me"

"Detective," I cut him off. "If the cartel heir did infiltrate the States, wouldn't he have completely scrubbed his identity? He wouldn't leave a single loophole, right?"

"Theoretically, yes."

"I understand." I took a steady breath. "I just wanted to call and let you know I got accepted into the Ivy League. Thank you for pulling me out of that hellhole back then. Ill focus on my studies. Ill never take this second chance for granted. I'm going to use my top academic achievements to repay you and the task force for saving my life."

Victor's voice choked up slightly. "Hearing you say that brings me a lot of peace, Vada."

"Detective no matter what happens from here on out, I need you to know: I just want to live. I just want to survive."

"You will."

I hung up and shoved a few more hoodies into my bag. Downstairs, my dad was already yelling for me to hurry up.

I spun around. Maddox was standing dead center in my room, perfectly silent. I violently flinched backward. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

He stood with both hands buried in his pockets, his sightless eyes angled exactly at my face. "Does it hurt?"

"Get out!" I pointed at the hallway.

A low, dark chuckle vibrated in his chest. "But your sister insisted I sleep in your bed tonight."

"Wait until I'm finished packing before you" I caught myself, my fingernails biting into my palms. "You can't just barge into someone's private space without permission!"

"There isn't a single room on this earth I cannot enter."

I clamped my jaw shut. I knew he was faking it. One minute he was a tragic, broken victim weeping downstairs, and the next he was radiating absolute, undeniable malice.

"Does Leighton know you snuck in here alone?" I challenged.

"Raise your voice a little louder. I'm sure she'll hear you." The smirk never left his face.

I refused to play his game. He casually sat on my desk chair, sensing the air as I scrambled to pack. His dark gaze drifted toward the trash can. When he registered the jagged porcelain shards of the vintage music box, his jaw visibly tightened.

I didn't hesitate. I yanked the trash bag out of the bin, tied it off, and hurled it out the door. I shoved my keys into the locks on my dresser drawers, snapping each one shut. Then I bypassed him completely, flying down the stairs.

"Maddox? What are you doing up there?" Leighton gasped as she watched him emerge from my hallway.

"Wrong room," he replied smoothly, letting her cling to his arm. "Your sister doesn't seem to like me very much."

Leighton shot me a venomous glare. "Just ignore her."

I slid into the passenger seat of my dad's car. A harsh cough tore from my throat.

"Are you sick? Do we need to stop for medicine?" my dad grumbled, turning the key in the ignition.

"No. I'm fine."

I had been violently coughing for a week straight, and no one had noticed. Meanwhile, Leighton could get a paper cut and the entire house would be in an absolute frenzy.

"Your voice is completely shot, but you're still acting tough," my dad sneered. "If you weren't so stubborn, we wouldn't be dumping you at that trailer park."

Shot? He had absolutely no idea I had stood under freezing cold water for three hours straight just to destroy my vocal cords.

Chapter 9

I needed my vocal cords completely inflamed. Maddox was blind, but I couldn't risk him recognizing the pitch of my voice.

"Dad, do you really think I'm just dead weight?"

"You suffered complications at birth. Your brain is a little slower than everyone else's. But a person has to recognize their flaws and accept them. You can't just turn vicious because you're jealous. You need to learn how to submit. When your mother and I are gone, Leighton is the one who's going to be taking care of you for the rest of your life. Why are you constantly fighting her?"

My fingernails dug into my palms. "So you really don't believe I got that full-ride Ivy League acceptance?"

"I begged your uncle to get you a housekeeping job cleaning rooms at a cheap motel. Stop being delusional. Stop obsessing over an elite life that doesn't belong to you."

I stared at him. "Dad do you love me?"

"Does love put food on the table? Does love keep you breathing?" he snapped, his patience instantly evaporating.

I clamped my mouth shut. At this point, there was zero reason to whip out my official acceptance letter and put a target on my own back. My mind drifted back to that pitch-black dungeon on the cartel's private offshore island. I had spent hours using a jagged piece of metal to carve my dad, mom, sister, and grandmother's names into the freezing concrete walls. Love really did keep me breathing back then.

I dragged my duffel bag into the dilapidated, moldy trailer park to stay with my grandmother. The second she saw me, she smiled.

"Leighton."

"I'm Vada," I corrected gently. Her dementia was getting worse. She was completely erasing me, only remembering her favorite.

"You are Leighton! You were born Leighton! That vicious little sister of yours hated her own name. When she was seven, she stole yours!"

The forgotten memory hit me like a physical blow. She was right. When we were kids, my sister was a spoiled brat. She pissed off some boys in her class, and they started brutally mocking her original name, treating her like cheap trailer trash. She came home screaming and crying, begging our parents to let her take my elegant, sophisticated name: Leighton. From that day on, she became the golden child Leighton, and I was forced to become Vada.

"Did she steal something from you again?" my grandmother demanded, gripping my arm.

"No, Grandma. How are you feeling?" I deflected. What was the point of dumping the dark truth on an old woman with severe dementia?

"I'm doing great! I even saw your grandfather last night."

My blood ran cold. There was an old superstition herewhen the elderly start seeing dead relatives, their time is almost up.

"Grandma, you need to move to the city." The medical facilities there were top-tier. If her heart failed, they could actually save her.

"Never! I'd rather die! They lost my real Leighton!" she spat, tears brimming in her cloudy eyes. "I'm never setting foot in that city. I'm staying right here until my Leighton comes home."

"Grandma I am home."

She didn't answer. She just gave me a hollow, vacant smile.

"Grandma I got a perfect score on my SATs."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It means I got a full-ride scholarship to the Ivy League."

She froze. Then, she frantically shuffled into the back room, returning with a moth-eaten handkerchief. Inside was a crumpled stack of cashover five thousand dollars.

"I saved every penny for my real Leighton. Take it. Go to that elite school. Become untouchable. I'd like to see any of them dare to call my girl brain-damaged ever again."

She immediately picked up her rotary phone, dialing every relative we had to brag about my perfect SAT score and Ivy League admission. On the other end of the line, there was only dead silence. Then, whispers about moving her to a cheap nursing home. The old bat's dementia is completely out of control now. No one believed her. No one believed me. It was sickeningly ironic.

I picked up a grueling minimum-wage shift cleaning rooms at the local motel to scrape together more cash. I had one month left. I just had to survive until freshman orientation.

By the time move-in day arrived, I had my grandmother's savings, the hush money Leighton wired me, and my motel wages. It totaled just over ten thousand dollars.

I hauled my beaten-up duffel bag onto a Greyhound bus and headed to the Ivy League campus completely alone. The exact second I stepped off the bus and onto the pristine, gothic-style campus grounds, Leighton stepped out of our dad's luxury SUV, teetering on designer heels.

My dad had mobilized the entire extended family. A convoy of over a dozen cars had rolled up to escort the golden child to her fake freshman orientation. When they spotted me gripping my cheap luggage, their jaws dropped.

"Vada, what the hell are you doing here?" my dad demanded.

"Checking in," I said flatly, refusing to make eye contact with the crowd.

"If you're going to have a psychotic episode, do it at home," he hissed, grabbing my arm. "Don't humiliate us in front of the elites."

Chapter 10

My relatives violently grabbed my duffel bag, trying to physically drag me away from the gates.

"Is there a problem?" Maddox stepped out of a sleek black SUV.

My dad's face darkened as he practically spat out the details of my so-called delusions.

"There are campus media bloggers everywhere," Maddox said smoothly, tilting his head toward the aggressive clicking of camera shutters near the entrance. "Sir, the official freshman orientation roster is right up ahead. Why don't we just walk over and check if her name is actually on it?"

My jaw clenched. What sick, twisted savior act was he playing at now?

"Dad, my stomach is killing me," Leighton suddenly squeaked out, gripping her abdomen. "You guys go ahead and head back. I need to find a restroom. I'm already at the gates, I can check in by myself later."

"Are you alright?" Maddox stepped closer, his voice dripping with faux concern. "Leighton, I want to walk in and register with you."

"I I'll go in a minute. You go ahead."

"Leighton, why wouldn't you want us to walk you in?" my mom asked, completely bewildered. "The whole family came out to celebrate your big moment."

"Excuse me, which one of you is Vada?" An admissions officer walked over, adjusting his glasses.

"Vada? You must mean Leighton. That's her." My aunts and uncles aggressively shoved Leighton to the front of the group.

I watched all the color drain from Leighton's face, turning an ashen, sickly gray. I didn't say a single word. Did she really think repeating a lie a hundred times would magically rewrite reality?

The admissions officer checked Leighton's ID, then frowned at the clipboard. "This is Leighton. I'm looking for Vada."

"It's her!" One of my relatives whipped out a phone and shoved it in the officer's face, opening TikTok. "Look at her profile! She has millions of views for getting in. Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?"

The admissions officer pushed his glasses up his nose, his expression deadpan. "Ma'am, TikTok followers are not a metric for Ivy League admissions."

A collective snort ripped through the crowd. The campus paparazzi and bystanders burst into savage laughter, their camera flashes firing off like strobe lights. The smug, arrogant expressions on my parents and relatives shattered. They looked like they had just swallowed broken glass.

"According to the system files, Vada is a twenty-two-year-old top-tier genius with a perfect SAT score, a full-ride Ivy League scholarship, and a personal letter of recommendation signed by the governor," the admissions officer stated, meticulously verifying the highly classified dossier.

"That would be me." I handed him my ID.

Without a backward glance, I left them all standing there paralyzed and followed the officer through the wrought-iron gates.

The next morning, Leighton and my parents skyrocketed to the top of the trending pages. Fake Influencer Steals Sister's Acceptance Letter, Fakes Ivy League Admission for Clout completely dominated every social media platform.

[ Holy shit, I thought she was a gorgeous genius. She actually forged her admission just for views? ]

[ Behind that innocent, sweet face is a completely shameless clout-chaser. ]

[ The university needs to ban her from campus permanently. We demand an explanation. ]

Leighton's comment section was instantly nuked with absolute vitriol. And the admissions officer's deadpan quote"TikTok followers are not a metric for Ivy League admissions"triggered a massive, nationwide meme wave.

[ If TikTok followers can get you into the Ivy League, my apartment number 718 should easily make me the Dean. ]

[ Not to brag, but with my 800 credit score, none of you peasants even stand a chance. ]

Overnight, Leighton's follower count hemorrhaged, plummeting from over seven million down to a barely-there one million.

[ Fuck, she turned on follower-only comments just so people have to follow her to drag her. What a toxic bitch. ]

That same night, Leighton completely locked down that manic, flexing TikTok video, and posted a pathetic, teary-eyed vlog about being forced to enroll in a remote, dead-end community college instead.

[ Does this idiot think the internet doesn't have screenshots? ]

[ I go to that community college. Ill pay five bucks for you to reroute your IP to the vocational school down the street. ]

[ Don't send her to us at the vocational school! Not a single company will hire our grads if her name is attached to it! ]

The absolute circus finally ended with Leighton dropping out of sight, too humiliated to even attend her baseline classes. She locked herself in her room, sobbing violently day and night.

"I was just doing it for a meme! I accidentally uploaded my sister's letter instead of my own!" she shrieked hysterically to our parents. "Why is everyone so vicious to me? I still passed my baseline state exams! Those keyboard warriors couldn't even manage that in a lifetime! I just had a bad test day, that's all!"

Chapter 11

That night, my mom called me. She said she had just pulled my favorite blueberry pie out of the oven, asking if I wanted to come home for a slice.

"No."

"You ridiculous girl, why didn't you just tell us you got a perfect SAT score? At the very least, our family produced one Ivy League elite and one college student."

"She did tell us. We just didn't believe her," my dad sighed heavily in the background.

"My boss actually praised us for raising two geniuses," my mom pushed. "He wants to invite you to our corporate gala to make the family look good."

"I'll pass. I have crippling social anxiety, I'm petty, and I'd only humiliate you. Your words."

"That was just in the heat of the moment. Why are you holding a grudge against your own mother?"

"Sorry, but that slap across my face completely cleared the ledger between us."

"What is that supposed to mean?" My mom flared up. "You think getting into the Ivy League makes you a god? Don't push your luck, you ungrateful brat. Let's see how tough you are when you have to beg me for tuition!"

"My full-ride scholarship covers everything. I'll make my own living expenses, and I'm living in the dorms. This is my official notice: I am cutting you off."

"Instead of picking fights with me, you should probably check on your youngest daughter. The internet is actively tearing her apart. Couldn't you just go public and clarify that she was just playing a harmless prank?"

"No. If I go online, I'll go completely nuclear. I will post every single detail of your abuse over the years, and every single time she slapped me across the face. By then, she won't be the only one getting destroyed. Do you still want me to log on?"

"Vada, you!" Muffled panic erupted through the receiver. It sounded like she actually passed out from rage.

I tapped the red button, cutting the call dead.

The freshman orientation keynote speaker was Maddox. I saw the draft of his speech the admissions director posted in our encrypted group chat. It was flawlessly written, dripping with charisma. Everyone was losing their minds over it.

"He's filthy rich, drop-dead gorgeous, and an absolute genius. What the hell is his flaw?"

"Is he single?"

"He supposedly has a girlfriend. Some girls tried to get his number, but he shut them down instantly, saying his girl would get upset."

They had to be talking about Leighton. I couldn't believe it. In less than two months, he was already this deeply tangled up with her. Even after she got publicly crucified online, he wasn't abandoning her.

I remembered Leighton gloating to my face: He would never dump me. He said he doesn't care if I got into the Ivy League or not. He only wants me, nothing else matters.

Watching these girls swoon, claiming whoever dated Maddox must have saved the galaxy in a past life, a dark laugh almost escaped my throat.

"More like she slaughtered thousands in her past life, and this is her karma," I muttered dryly.

A few girls whipped around, staring at me in absolute shock.

"Not him," I deflected smoothly. "I was reading about a serial killer on the news."

I grabbed my backpack and stood up to head back to the dorms. The second I turned around, Maddox was standing dead in my path. Honestly, now that I knew how obsessed he was with my sister, I wasn't paralyzed by him anymore. He definitely didn't recognize my raspy voice. He was utterly convinced Leighton was me. If I acted too terrified, it would only blow my cover.

"Congratulations," he murmured, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"For what?"

"Getting exactly what you wanted."

I stepped sideways to bypass him. There was absolutely no reason for us to engage in small talk.

"I heard from your sister that your academic record was garbage," he noted, his voice low.

"And? Let me guess, she told you I scammed my way in?"

He stood there, a dark chuckle vibrating in his chest. "To doubt your scores would be to doubt the entire federal admissions board. Why would I doubt that?" He tilted his head slightly. "Do you want to prove yourself?"

"Prove what?"

He didn't answer. His pitch-black, sightless eyes just angled down toward the printed speech draft gripped in my hand. "It's well written."

The admissions director had ordered me to draft it. He said they always keep a backup valedictory speech on hand, just in case the keynote speaker suddenly drops out.

Chapter 12

He didn't say another word and walked right past me.

On the day of freshman orientation, I was sitting in the audience when the admissions director frantically tracked me down. He said Maddox had completely vanished, and I had to fill in as the keynote speaker.

I walked up to the podium, my legs feeling like lead. My mind was blank. The speech I had drafted was gone. Not because I was nervous, but because five minutes ago, I received the call that my grandmother was dead.

"Your grandmother saw the news of your Ivy League admission," my uncle had told me over the phone. "She cried tears of joy, couldn't catch her breath, and passed away right there on the rocking chair on her porch."

I gripped the microphone. I started by improvising a standard, by-the-book welcome speech. Then, the memory of her handing over her crumpled savings hit me. My eyes burned. I cleared the tightness from my throat.

"I want to express my deepest gratitude to the task force, to the narcotics detectives who risk their lives in the shadows so people like me can have a second chance at an education. I am not here to chase clout. I am not here to secure a billionaire husband. I am here to follow in the footsteps of giants and dominate the absolute forefront of technology. So I hope all of you join me. Do not become fools trapped in cheap romances. Tear through your textbooks. Don't chase fleeting, momentary highs, but pursue the absolute pinnacle of power and knowledge!"

A dead, suffocating silence hung over the venue for a few seconds. Then, the normally untouchable Ivy League board of directors stood up. The entire arena erupted into deafening, fanatical applause.

I walked off the stage amidst the roaring crowd. The second I looked up, I spotted Maddox standing at the edge of the sprawling campus green. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers. His sightless eyes seemed to track me through the drifting smoke. He stood perfectly still for a long time before turning on his heel and disappearing into the shadows.

That night, my dormmates were practically shrieking.

"Maddox just changed his encrypted profile status to 'Fool'."

I ignored them. I really didn't understand these girls. I genuinely wonderedif they knew who Maddox actually was, a cold-blooded butcher, would they still be swooning? This was a world completely blinded by aesthetics. Morals were entirely dictated by a jawline.

My parents handled my grandmother's funeral. I went back for it anyway. She was an eccentric old woman. Ignored by everyone when she was breathing, but the second she died, relatives suddenly flooded the threshold to play the grieving family.

I stood alone in her damp room for a while. Suddenly, my eyes locked onto the nightstand. Sitting right there was a vintage porcelain music box. It was the exact same model Leighton had brought home.

That instant, the paralyzing terror of being stalked by a venomous snake crawled straight up my spine. I shoved the porcelain music box deep into my hoodie pocket and went straight to Detective Victor, my pulse hammering in my throat