I was born with a jinxed tongue. Whatever dark thing spilled from my lips always came to pass.

When I was six, the human trafficker who snatched me snapped my left wrist in a fit of rage.

I locked my eyes onto his and hissed through grit teeth: "You break my bone, I take your head." Before the echo of my voice faded, the wind ripped a heavy steel signboard from the rooftop overhead.

Its rusted, razorsharp edge sheared clean through his throat. His head rolled into the gutter before his body even hit the pavement.

When I was ten, the old caretaker at the state orphanage stole the meager cash I’d earned hauling scrap metal.

I stared at him with ice in my veins. "You take my bread, I buy your bed.

You won't see sunrise; the earth is your casket." That very night, he passed out drunk in the facility sauna.

A short circuit locked the door and dialed the thermostat up past two hundred degrees.

By morning, he was cooked into a shriveled, blackened husk, curled on the tiles like a piece of charcoal. Then came the Charless.

The billionaire industrialist Charles Charles and his wife traced their longlost biological daughter back to me.

Knowing the monster living inside my mouth, I sealed my lips tight the moment I crossed the threshold of their estate. I swore I would never utter another word.

For a month, it worked. Until the night of my brother’s twentyfirst birthday gala. My adoptive sister, Delilah, cornered me near the balcony.

Without a word of warning, she grabbed my hand and hurled herself backward into the floortoceiling glass window. The glass shattered in a deafening spray.

By the time my mother came running, Delilah’s arms were slick with crimson. My mother didn't ask what happened. She didn't look at the shattered frame.

She swung her hand and slapped me across the face so hard my vision swam. "Delilah has a severe blood clotting disorder!" my mother screamed, her voice shrill with hysteria. "No matter how much you resent her, you don't gamble with her life!" My father rushed over a second later, his eyes bloodshot, finger trembling as he thrust it at my nose. "Do you have any idea what it took to bring you back to this family?

And this is how you repay us? Get out to the courtyard and kneel!

You don't stand up until you understand what you've done wrong!" I bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. I didn't say a single word. Fine. You want me to speak?

I’ll speak. I fixed my gaze on Delilah’s tearstained face, every syllable laced with poison… … I knelt on the cold blue flagstones of the courtyard.

My stomach twisted in violent spasms; I hadn't tasted a scrap of food since yesterday afternoon.

Rain poured off the eaves, soaking through my clothes until my skin felt marblecold. My vision flickered black, and I collapsed sideways, my face splashing into a muddy puddle.

Suddenly, a black umbrella blocked the torrent overhead. My older brother, Beckett, stood over me, his hand wrapped around Delilah’s waist.

He looked down at me as if I were something scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

He lifted the toe of his polished Italian leather boot and kicked my shoulder. "Why are you so damn stubborn?" he spat. "All you have to do is swallow your pride, apologize, and Mom and Dad will let you inside.

Do you really have to ruin this family before you’re satisfied?" My fingers dug into the wet gravel beneath the silt, my nails scraping against stone. I kept my jaw clamped shut.

When I first arrived at the Charles mansion, my mother had worried I wouldn't sleep in an unfamiliar bed.

She’d sat beside me every night, gently stroking my hair until I drifted off. My father had canceled a month’s worth of corporate dinners just to eat at home with me.

And Beckett—Beckett had thrown a wealthy heir into a country club fountain just because the guy made a snide remark about my rough accent.

To protect that fleeting, fragile warmth, I had bound my own tongue in chains. Even when framed. Even when forced to my knees in the freezing rain. I held my silence.

Delilah leaned heavily into Beckett’s chest, clutching his lapel with trembling fingers. "Beckett, please... let it go," she whimpered, her voice frail as spun glass. "Rory suffered so much before coming home.

She’s probably just terrified I’ll steal your love away." Beckett’s jaw tightened on the handle of the umbrella, his eyes blazing with protective fury. "Suffering in the past doesn't give her a license to hurt people!

If we don't break this cruel streak out of her now, she’s going to bring down this entire house." Seeing that I remained motionless, Delilah slowly crouched beside me.

She leaned in close to my ear, her voice dropping into a low, honeyed venom meant for me alone. "So what if you share their blood?

To them, you aren't worth a single strand of my hair." She pulled back abruptly, her eyes widening in theatrical terror, and clutched her chest with both hands. "Beckett... my chest...

I can't breathe..." Beckett’s face drained of color. He tossed the umbrella aside, scooped Delilah into his arms, and turned toward the driveway. "Delilah!

Your heart can't take this kind of stress!

I'm taking you to the ER right now!" He spun on his heel and glared at me, his teeth gritted in pure hatred. "If anything happens to her because of this stunt, I swear to God I’m done with you!" The sports car’s engine roared to life, tires screeching against the wet asphalt as it sped into the dark.

I lay in the mud as the cold rain lashed down, heavy and relentless. I knelt there all night. By dawn, the storm had finally passed. The heavy front doors swung open.

My parents walked out, their eyes swollen and bloodshot. Beckett followed behind them, carefully supporting Delilah.

My mother sprinted down the marble steps and slammed a thick medical report directly into the puddle in front of me, her voice shaking with rage. "The doctor said Delilah went into sudden cardiac arrest!

Her heart stopped! If we’d arrived two minutes later, she’d be dead!

And you still won't offer a single word of remorse!" My father leaned heavily on his mahogany cane, his face thunderous. "We spent millions searching the country for you, Rory.

Is this your gratitude?" I kept my head down, staring at the white paper dissolving in the murky water.

Delilah leaned weakness against Beckett’s shoulder. "Mom, Dad, please... don't be mad at Rory. She grew up on the streets.

She just doesn't know how to belong in a real family..." She stepped forward slowly, crouching in front of me again, reaching out a delicate hand as if to help me up.

Out of our parents' line of sight, she leaned close and whispered, "I paid eightyeight thousand dollars to have that report forged, sister. I don't have a heart condition.

But as long as I fake a gasp, they’ll destroy you for me." Then, she let out a sharp cry, threw herself backward onto the damp stone, and clutched her sternum, coughing violently. "It hurts...

Rory, please don't push me!" Beckett lunged forward, grabbing me by the collar and yanking me out of the mud. "Are you out of your mind?!

She’s frail enough as it is, and you’re still putting your hands on her?!" In the struggle, the jade pendant tucked beneath my shirt slipped out.

It was a protective amulet my mother had traveled to a remote sanctuary to seek for me when I first returned home.

Beckett caught sight of the green stone and ripped the silk cord clean off my neck. "Something Mom prayed over for protection?

A viper like you doesn't deserve to wear it!" He turned and pressed the jade into Delilah’s hand. "Here, Delilah.

This will keep you safe." Delilah clutched the stone to her chest, throwing me a triumphant, mocking smile that only I could see.

I slowly pried Beckett’s fingers off my collar, my breath coming out as a cold, deliberate hiss. "Faking chest pain every single day..." I murmured.

My mother screamed, "Shut your mouth!" I locked eyes with Delilah. "Keep faking it long enough, little sister, and see if your heart doesn't actually give out." Delilah let out a sharp laugh. "Are you insane—" The words froze in her throat.

The laugh died instantly, pinned to her face like a grotesque mask.

Her hands slammed against her left ribcage, her mouth opening in a silent gasp before a bloodcurdling shriek tore from her chest. "AAAAHHH!" This time, the agony was entirely real.

She collapsed into the dirt, writhing violently as spasms racked her frame. My mother shrieked in horror, dropping to her knees to grab her.

Beckett scooped Delilah’s convulsing body into his arms and bolted toward the garage like a madman.

My father pointed his cane at my face, his hands trembling with rage. "You heartless, evil creature! Trying to scare your sister to death!

Lock her in the basement!" Eight heavy security guards swarmed me, dragging me across the stone driveway like a stray dog. The basement was pitchblack and damp.

I lost track of how many days passed in that dark cellar. Until one night, the door was kicked off its hinges.

Beckett stormed in, grabbed me by the shirt, and dragged me up the stairs and into the blinding light of the main hall. It was the Charles family’s quarterly gathering.

The grand living room was filled with relatives, uncles, and prominent shareholders.

Delilah sat in a wheelchair near the hearth, her face chalkwhite, resting her head on my mother’s shoulder.

Beckett slammed me onto the Persian rug. "All our relatives are here today!

You are going to get on your knees and apologize to Delilah right now!" "The doctors said she suffered an acute myocardial infarction! Minutes away from brain death!

You knew how delicate her condition was, and you deliberately provoked her.

That’s attempted murder!" My mother pointed at me, her hands shaking so hard her gold bangles clinked. "We opened our hearts to you, and you tried to kill your sister just to secure your place in this house!

If you don't bow your head today, you are no daughter of mine!" Mutterings broke out among the relatives. “Raised in the slums, what do you expect?” “To attack her own sister... how vile.” Delilah clutched my mother’s hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Mom, don't blame Rory...

She suffered so much growing up.

It’s natural she holds bitterness..." Looking at her hypocritical performance, a wave of nausea washed over me. "I’ve been locked in a basement for days," I said, my voice hoarse from disuse. "And not one of you bothered to check into the eightyeight thousand dollars she spent buying fake medical records?" Beckett kicked my shoulder with full force.

I tumbled sideways, my forehead slamming hard against the sharp edge of a marble side table.

Blood immediately trickled down my temple. "Shut your lying mouth!" he roared. "Young Master, wait! Miss Rory is telling the truth!" The room fell dead silent.

Agnes, the elderly housekeeper who had served the Charless for twenty years, shuffled out from the kitchen and threw herself onto her knees.

Trembling violently, she pointed a gnarled finger at Delilah. "Five days ago, while I was cleaning the secondfloor study, I heard Miss Delilah on the phone arranging for forged hospital documents!

I saw her dump her heart prescription pills straight down the toilet!" Delilah’s face drained of all color.

She buried her face in her hands and burst into loud, frantic tears. "Agnes! How could you say that?! How much money did Rory pay you to frame me?!" Beckett snapped.

He grabbed a porcelain teapot of boiling water off the side table and slammed it directly over Agnes’s head. The porcelain shattered into jagged shards.

Scalding tea and thick red blood poured down the old woman’s face. "Ungrateful old bat!" Beckett snarled. "Beat her mouth until her teeth break, then throw her out on the street!" I threw my body over Agnes before the guards could reach her.

Heavy leather boots rained down on my back, kick after kick, hard enough to shatter ribs. I curled around Agnes, taking the brunt of the blows.

The blunt impacts echoed through my spine, my internal organs searing with excruciating pain. I lifted my head and looked at my family.

My father stood by, his face cold, unblinking as his guards stomped on his biological child.

My mother pressed her hands over Delilah’s eyes, whispering sweet comfort so her delicate daughter wouldn't be frightened by the violence.

Whatever fragile bond of blood had existed between us was pulverized into dust beneath their boots. I had chosen silence to protect their lives.

Yet they were beating an innocent old woman to death just to protect a fraud. "Stop hitting Miss Rory... please...

I confess, I made it up..." Agnes wept beneath me, her voice ragged. Beckett let out a cold, venomous chuckle.

He grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back. "You see that, Rory?

The help you brought in has even softer bones than you." Delilah sat in her wheelchair, tears brimming in her eyes as she pulled gently on Beckett’s sleeve. "Beckett, please, stop." She turned toward my father, weeping openly. "Dad, if Rory really can't stand the sight of me, I’ll pack my bags and leave tomorrow.

She can have everything in my name. Just please, stop the fighting..." My mother wrapped her arms around Delilah, sobbing hysterically.

My father slammed his cane against the floor. "Rory Charles! We brought you home for a family reunion, not to watch you tear this house apart!

Starting tomorrow, you will be confined to the guest cottage out back.

You won't step foot outside until you learn how to treat your sister with respect!" Beckett threw me back to the floor and stood protectively in front of Delilah. "We gave you everything, and you turned out to be nothing but a venomous snake.

When is this sick jealousy going to end?!" I looked at the three of them wrapped around Delilah, a wall of united defense against the monster they believed I was.

I swallowed the warm, metallic taste of blood pooling in my throat. A slow, terrifying smile cracked across my lips. I was done holding back.

I locked my eyes directly onto Delilah’s trembling pupils.

My voice was quiet, yet it carried to every corner of the vast, silent hall. "Since you’re all so convinced she’s on the verge of death..." "Fine.

Let’s make sure she actually dies a little." A collective gasp rippled through the room. Beckett’s mouth opened to unleash another torrent of abuse.

I didn't break eye contact with Delilah. Word by word, I delivered my decree...