Then a cold liquid poured over my head. Strong alcohol soaked through my clothes, running down my face, my neck, my entire body.
…
The music cut off so suddenly it felt like everything snapped. One second it was loud and messy, the next… dead silent. Everyone turned to look at me, not shocked, not confused, just watching like they were waiting for something entertaining.
“You really think you can walk away after what you did?” someone laughed. “Dahlia, I didn’t know you were this vicious.”
“First Grandpa, then Celine,” another voice added. “What’s next, huh? You gonna poison Argus too and keep him locked by your side forever?”
I didn’t answer. I just looked at him. Argus stood there, his face pale from exhaustion, but his eyes were sharp, cold, like knives. “I already said it,” I muttered, my voice tired. “I didn’t hurt Grandpa. And I didn’t touch Celine.” I even knew how weak it sounded. What proof did I even have? Cameras broken, witnesses bought, and him… already decided I was guilty.
“I swear,” I said, forcing it out, “I didn’t stab you. If I’m lying, then let me die a horrible death.” I paused, then looked straight at her. “But Celine… can you say the same? Can you swear you didn’t plan all of this yourself?”
“Enough!” Argus cut me off sharply, stepping in front of her like I was something dirty. “Dahlia, even now you still won’t admit it? You still think you’re innocent?” His voice dropped colder. “Fine. Don’t blame me for what happens next. You brought this on yourself.”
Hands grabbed me before I could react. My knees slammed hard onto the floor and pain shot up my legs. I struggled, panic rising fast. “Let me go… what are you doing…” but no one listened. Argus took the whip and walked toward me slowly, like this was something he had already decided.
“Scared?” he asked quietly. “Did you ever think about how desperate Grandpa was when he fell? Or how terrified Celine was when you attacked her?”
“I didn’t—”
The whip struck.
Pain exploded across my back and I couldn’t even breathe. My body jerked, a broken sound escaping my throat.
“Speak,” he said, his voice rising. “Admit your mistake.”
“I… don’t…” My voice was shaking. “I don’t admit it…”
He laughed, angry now. “Still denying it? You think if you say nothing, it didn’t happen? Dahlia, you’re a sinner. You deserve this.”