Rose of the No Man's Land

The night I was told I was the underworld's fake heiress, my adoptive father handed me over to his business partner that very night.

Aren't you afraid that little mute will get herself killed?

So what if she dies? She's so weakanyone can see she's no daughter of mine!

My adoptive father wanted to squeeze every last use out of me. But that same night, my sworn brother, Byron Henson, drenched the elder's house in blood.

He hacked off the man's limbs right in front of me.

Then he took me back to a hidden room and locked me away, his eyes red as he said no one else was allowed to touch me.

"You're finally mine alone, Claire."

From that day on, he taught me how to hold a gun and shoot. Three years later, he closed his hand over mine and made me shoot my adoptive father dead.

We were together day and night, each of us the other's one and only, and I fell in love with Byron Henson too!

But on our wedding day, my beloved pet was tortured to death, its blood soaking through my wedding dress.

The underworld's true heiress leveled a gun at me.

"Go to hell, you scourge! You stole everything that belonged to me!"

Without the slightest fear, I snatched the gun out of her hand.

And just as I pulled the trigger

Byron Henson threw a dart that pierced my wrist, and the blood stung my eyes!

"Since when can't you tell right from wrong? The Henson family's affairs have nothing to do with her."

He said she was innocent.

Is she really innocent, brother?

"Kill her, Byron Henson! I'm the one who's your sister!"

The woman cowering in Byron Henson's arms lost all control of herself.

She said it was all because of me that the group had fallen apart, that their father had died so horribly!

"Brother, what kind of love potion did she feed you, to make you willingly carry the guilt of killing your own father for her?"

The man's brow knotted tight. He lowered his voice. "Does he even deserve to be called a father?"

Kevin Henson never saw me or Byron Henson as his childrenonly as blood bags to prolong his own life.

From childhood on, our bodies were riddled with needle marks, used for his longevity research.

Byron Henson he raised into an emotionless tool, beating and cursing us at the slightest provocation. To break Byron Henson, he even forced him to watch his own mother killed by a rival family.

"Go now. We'll let today go. But if there's a next time, I'll even"

Before Byron Henson could finish, a signet ring suddenly appeared in Marcella Henson's hand.

It was the symbol of the one who called the shots at the very center of the Henson Group.

"Brother, I order you nowkill her!"

Marcella Henson's face was twisted, her eyes red with agitation, her whole body heaving for breath.

Why waste your breath on her.

I finished signing, then coldly raised the gun and aimed it at Marcella Henson's heart. Let her be the one buried with my Clement!

"Stop!" Byron Henson threw himself in front of her. "Have you forgotten what I taught you? You don't slaughter the innocent."

He said Marcella Henson was innocentthat the group no longer touched anything criminal, that under Marcella Henson's leadership it had cleaned itself up and turned onto the right path.

I couldn't kill her, he said, especially since the one who had hurt me back then was only Kevin Henson.

"You avenged yourself long ago, Claire. Let her go. After all, you really are the one who killed her father."

Heh.

You've gone soft, brother.

You were the one who said to pull the weeds out by the roots. You were the one who said a wrong must be repaid on the spot!

But this woman killed my kitten and ruined our wedding, and my brother didn't seem to intend to hold her to account.

He said if I wanted to kill Marcella Henson, I'd have to step over his corpse first.

"She's my only living blood relative..."

"And with the position she holds now, if she dies here, it'll send shockwaves through the coastal underworld circle. I won't be able to protect you."

My eyes met Byron Henson's, and the fierce ruthlessness that once ruled everything was long gone from them.

In its place was softness, with a trace of guilt. Did he regret it?

He was the one who had set me down this path of decisive killing. He was the one who had taught me, step by step, how to fire a gun.

He was the one who had gripped my hand and made me strike down my adoptive father without mercy.

But now?

Afraid I would lose control, Byron Henson actually lifted Marcella Henson into his arms himself and carried her away.

I watched that retreating figure, and inside I felt nothing at all.

By the time he came back to the wedding, he found the whole place in ruins.

I had burned the wedding dress and smashed the venue apart. As I left, a message came in from my assistant.

Byron Henson had taken her back to the old Henson estate, saying he was returning her to where she belonged.

Marcella Henson knelt crying in the rain, begging him to stay, her tone almost pleading.

"Brother, it's not too late to turn back. I can help you clear your name. Please, stop getting tangled up with her, all right?"

Byron Henson ignored her and only warned her never to do it again.

"If you dare hurt Claire even a little, I'll end you."

"I just don't want you living in the shadows. I want you to live openly, honestly, out in the sunlightwhy..."

Byron Henson walked away without looking back, leaving her nothing but the sight of his unyielding back.

The wedding venue was in chaos, and Byron was going out of his mind because he couldn't find me.

"Where is she?"

"At the West End Cemetery."

I had buried Kitty, staying with him through his last journey in this world.

By the time Byron arrived, all he saw was the line I'd left: I will avenge him.

His expression turned cold, and he cursed under his breath, "She's out of her mind."

He made a phone call, ordering his men to go protect Marcella and keep her safe.

Over the years, under Marcella's leadership, the group had completely cleaned up its image and become one of the most sought-after names in the coastal underworld circle.

Marcella controlled the largest entertainment company and held the power to shape public opinion across that whole world.

She had always done charity work, and tonight's event had gathered a group of girls who had just come of age, all from impoverished families.

She said she would help them fulfill their dreams, throw a grand coming-of-age gala, and then cover all their tuition afterward!

When Byron arrived, Marcella's face changed slightly.

"Brother, what are you doing here?"

Byron let out a breath. Seeing that Marcella was fine, he frowned and was about to say something.

"You shouldn't have come here, brother."

"It's fine. I just came to make sure you were all right."

Marcella's eyes reddened. She bit down hard on her lower lip, opened her mouth, and felt an unbearable bitterness inside.

"I'm your real sister, so why have you always favored Claire?"

"She killed our father. Why do you still act as her dog, and how much further down that underworld road do you plan to go?"

Marcella said I had stolen the underworld-heiress life that should have been hers, and now I was stealing her brother too.

It ate at her heart.

Byron didn't explain to his sister what kind of man Kevin Henson really was; he only hesitated, saying nothing for a long while.

"It's bad, Mr. Henson! Someone's hijacked the bus, and the girls have been kidnapped."

"What happened?" Marcella asked in a low voice, her face full of anxiety, then looked at Byron. "She did it, didn't she? That madwoman?!"

Marcella cursed, swearing she would put me away sooner or later.

By the time they found me, the bus had already plunged off a cliff and vanished without a trace.

Marcella's face twisted with rage as she pointed at me. "She's an inhuman devil. Why do you insist on protecting her?"

"Over a single cat, she killed eighteen girls in the prime of their lives."

"Claire?"

Byron looked at me with the same suspicion in his eyes. He murmured something, and in the end asked only one question.

"Did you do this?"

I didn't answer. Didn't he already have the answer in his heart?

Through all those days and nights he kept me locked away, Byron had said plainly that we were each other's only one.

That I was the only person he could trust.

But now? Who had he given that trust to?

Byron gripped my shoulders, out of control, his voice nearly gone.

"I taught you your skills, not so you could slaughter the innocent. Claire, how did you end up like this?"

"Marcella is right. I really have spoiled you too much."

He said he couldn't control me anymore, so I reached out and grabbed the hem of his clothes.

But Byron flung me off without mercy.

He said he would send me to a psychiatric hospital to learn my place: "When you admit your mistake, then you can come out."

"You should send her to prison, brother!"

"Quiet."

Marcella scoffed. "You still can't bring yourself to let go. All you'll do is keep her right under your eye."

"..."

I was sent to Greenhill Hospital, a hospital owned by Byron Henson. Just as Marcella Henson had said, everything was under his control.

The first night there, I got a message from Marcella.

She had moved into the old Henson estate, taken over my room, and thrown out everything in my collection.

Her excuse was that I was too dark, that those paintings weren't healthy.

The second night, she posted a set of photos, saying she was afraid of thunder and only felt safe next to her brother.

On the third night, Byron threw a welcome dinner for her, preparing gifts for every birthday she'd had from age one to twenty-three. He said out loud that she was his only sister.

"..."

I sank to the floor, clutching my phone, trembling.

I'd been abandoned again.

But my chest didn't hurt as much this time.

Some sound came from outside the door.

"A fake is a fake. Now that the real sister is back, what's the point of keeping this mute around?"

"Shh, don't let her hear you. You don't know this, but this mute has plenty of blood on her hands! The anti-crime crackdown should throw her in prison."

Tears slid from my eyes. I hadn't cried in years.

I had believed Byron's words, and it left me battered and broken.

I had naively thought we were each other's only one. I believed his lies, and was dragged into an endless abyss of darkness.

Just then,

a thick smell of smoke choked its way in.

"Fire! Put it out, quick!"

The fire spread fast, engulfing my whole room in an instant.

I heard people talking, saying they wanted to burn me, the murderer, alive.

"She killed my daughter! If I don't burn her alive, how am I supposed to avenge my daughter?"

"Letting her live it up in the mental hospitalthe law can't punish her, so I will!"

I was choking, nearly passing out, searching for a way out.

And I unexpectedly saw Byron.

He rushed upstairs, but he didn't come looking for me.

The scalding iron door was almost searing my flesh open.

"Brother? Save me."

It was Marcella's voice.

Just as I finally managed to grab the hem of Byron's clothes, Marcella let out a faint cry for help.

"Claire, wait for me. Her leg is hurt and she can't get out. Brother... will be back soon."

My throat was raw from the smoke and my hands were burned, but I didn't make a single gesture. I just clung to the hem of his clothes and wouldn't let go.

The fire was too much, and suddenly Byron snapped at me: "Stop it, would you? Marcella only got dragged into this because she came to see you."

He said I should be more sensible and not drag innocent people into it.

If this dragged on any longer, we'd all die here.

He pushed me away without hesitation and carried Marcella out to safety.

I couldn't tell which way was which anymore. I could only stumble along on survival instinct, the fire spreading up after me.

By the time I got out, I was a human torch, most of my body burned.

"Save her..."

"Why save her? She's a murderer. She deserves to burn to death."

"But Mr. Henson will blame us."

I lay on the ground, barely alive, and all I heard them say was that Byron only cared about his real sister.

"Miss Henson only got a scrape, and Mr. Henson is that worried. Blood ties never lie."

"Leave her. Whether she lives or dies is her fate. It's her own fault for what she owes those families."

It hurt so much.

The pain in my heart was worse than the pain on my body!

The burns cover most of my body, and the pain keeps me awake at night. Every time Byron comes, he lets out a heavy sigh.

He asked me whether I finally understood how high the price was.

"Marcella is innocent. She's different from Kevin. You can't just take out your hatred for Kevin on"

Innocent?

I lay there on my stomach while Byron dressed my wounds, as gentle as could be, just like back when we used to keep each other warm.

Kevin is a devil. He never treated us like human beings at all.

Even knowing I was the fake heiress, he still wanted to squeeze every use out of me. I hate him, but I've been timid my whole life.

I'm mute, a person shoved to the margins. But brother, you dragged me into the abyssand now you want to reach for the light?

"Don't go making trouble for Marcella anymore, all right? Be good."

Ha.

Am I the one making trouble for Marcella?

But right as Byron finished speaking, he got a phone call, and his face went white in an instant.

"Claire Henson, you're a lunatic!"

Byron rushed off in a panic, and I had no idea what had happened.

But he pinned all the blame on me.

Marcella, covered in blood, was wheeled into the emergency room while Byron paced anxiously up and down the corridor.

He'd never believed in God or any higher power, but now he began to pray. He said she was his only sister, that she'd suffered out in the countryside before and had only just come home.

"Please, God, watch over Marcella."

"Did I do something wrongdid I keep her from the family love she deserved? Should I never have killed Kevin?"

After a whole night in emergency care, the bullet they removed from Marcella's body was the exact same model as the pistol Byron had given me.

That night, Byron went mad and dragged me, wounds and all, off the bed.

He demanded answers, savage with fury.

"Why? Just because you were afraid she'd steal me away, you got so jealous you lost your mind?"

"Claire, you used to be so good, so obedient. Why?"

How does he have the nerve to ask me why?

I collapsed on the floor, in too much pain to even shed a tear, and I signed with my hands.

Brother, you're the one who taught mewhen someone bullies you, you pay them back...

"But I never taught you to slaughter innocent people..."

Innocent? Do you really believe Marcella is innocent?

Slap.

The first time Byron hit me, it was because of Marcella.

My cheek burned, but the tears didn't fall; they pooled in my eyes as I stared at him.

Byron was thrown into a panic. "I'm sorry, Claire. I was just too frantic. The person you are now feels like a stranger to me."

"You need to calm down."

After that day, Byron never came to see me again, and he never signed the consent form for my surgery either.

He stayed at Marcella's side the whole time, tending to her with painstaking care, even cooking for her with his own hands.

The public-opinion campaign painted Marcella as an angel, one who could purify a man dragged down to the depths of hell like Byron.

People online even called them the most opposite pair of siblings there ever was.

Byron, who always kept to himself, actually agreed to appear on Marcella's new talk show.

From across the crowd, I watched him smile with such doting fondness as a reporter asked why he was appearing on the show.

"Well, Marcella's my little sister. If I don't spoil her, who am I going to spoil?"

"But we know you have another sister."

"Her? She made a mistake recently. She needs to be reformed."

In front of the media, Byron said he happened to have something to announce: he admitted that my mental illness was faked.

"I won't cover for her any longer. Someone has to answer for the lives of those eighteen girls."

He'd gathered the evidence himself to send me to prison.

The public was in an uproar.

Everyone praised Byron for putting justice above blood. And just as they were basking in all that praise

I pressed a switch, and the big screen suddenly began playing a string of little clips.

An instant later, Marcella shrieked like a madwoman. "Turn it off! Turn it off right now! Who did this? Step forward!"

"Marcella? You did all of this?"

Brother, do you still think she's innocent?