His contract: marked by vengeance

***OLIVIA POV****

SMACK!

Zoey’s slap landed so hard I saw stars. My jaw stung, my cheek throbbed, and for a moment, the world tilted. Her hand trembled as it dropped, but her glare—cold, full of betrayal—didn’t waver.

My heart thundered. Confusion and dread tangled in my chest. What the hell was happening?

“How could you, Ollie?” Her voice cracked, tears glistening in her eyes—but none of it felt like grief.

It felt like hatred.

“You’re a monster,” she hissed. “After everything we did for you…We took you in,I took you like my blood and you still did this?”

Her words hit harder than her slap.

Mother–no, Mrs. Rhodes—stood behind her, face streaked with tears. But there was no warmth in her eyes. Only disgust.

“I loved you like my own,” she whispered, broken. “But I never should have.”

The guests turned to look at me. All of them. Dozens of eyes boring into me like daggers.

It was supposed to be my father's funeral,a quiet moment of mourning. But instead, I stood accused, surrounded by judgment.

Zoey’s next words were a blade across my soul.

“How could you kill our father?”

The room spun. My stomach dropped in dread.I staggered back.

What?

“Zoey…” My throat dried up. “No. I would never— I could never do that to him! Not to our father!”

“Shut up, you lying bitch!”

I flinched at her venom.

“You were never one of us.”

My voice cracked as I turned to the only woman I called “mother.” “Please. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

She stared at me. Cold. Sharp.

“I’m not your mother.”

Those four words gutted me, she pushed me to the floor and crawled back.

“I thought I could be,” she continued, stepping forward, voice breaking, “but I didn’t raise a murderer.”

I was on my knees, hands shaking, the hem of my dress bunched in my fists as I begged.

“Zoey. Mom. Please. I didn’t do this. I loved him…”

They stepped back in unison, recoiling like I was filth. Like I’d contaminated the air.

“Take this murderer away!” Mother screamed.

The crowd gasped. Some stepped aside. Others murmured as uniformed officers stormed in.

“No, please! There’s a mistake! I didn’t—”

Gavin —my fiance just stood there, watching.

“Gavin, zoey. Mother!...Do something, please!”

My pleas turned to sobs as they yanked me up. I thrashed, clawed, screamed Zoey’s name—but she wouldn’t even look at me.

The last thing I saw before the doors slammed shut was their backs.

I was alone.

And just like that… I was labeled a killer.

•••••••

Two months later

(New Haven City Prison)

Freedom was a concept I forgot the taste of. It’d been sixty-two days. Sixty-two nights of silence, steel, and shame.

I've forgotten how the sun felt caressing my cheeks. I wished I enjoyed the sun ,I wished I enjoyed life more.

No visits from Zoey. None from “Mother.”

Gavin.my fiancé—had come once. Only Once?

And he was just quiet and stared at me like an alien.

They didn’t want to hear the truth. They never did.

Maybe it was because I was adopted. Maybe it was always going to end like this.

But God… it still hurt.

“Hey! blue eyes!”

Samantha’s voice slithered in like a curse. My cellmate. The prison’s top dog. Or rather—the psycho fate cursed me with.

“Scrub that floor like your life depends on it.”

I looked at the bathroom tiles, stained, foul-smelling, with globs of whatever nightmares are made of. I swallowed bile.

“Yes, Samantha,” I muttered, grabbing the brush.

“And after that,” she said sweetly, “you’re doing my laundry.”

“But…my fingers are—”

Her eyes locked onto mine, glinting with the kind of rage that didn’t need raising a voice.

She stepped close, so close I could smell her breath. “I don’t care if you don’t have hands, you’ll still do my damn laundry.”

I nodded quickly. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Good girl.” She patted my cheek mockingly before leaving.

God, I hated myself. Hated how I folded. But I remembered what I saw the first week here.

Samantha beat her last cellmate to death. Because she snored.

Even the guards whispered, “You’re better off dead than in her cell.”

And yet… here I was.

Fate had to still pair me with her, even fate obviously wanted me dead.

Don’t do anything stupid, Olivia.

Calm the fuck down!

Just survive. Just make it out, somehow. What could someone like me even do to her.

I carried her dirty uniform to the laundry room. My fingers stung with blisters, my knees bruised from scrubbing. The moment I stepped in, glares followed.

Everyone here had heard the same thing:

That I murdered Richard Rhodes.

My father.

The man who helped criminals, orphans, politicians, saints and sinners alike.

Someone had fed the wolves a lie. And they believed it without tasting the truth.

They stared at me like I wasn’t human. Even the guards.

If I had to stay here one more day, I’d lose it. Maybe I already had.

I sat down in the corner, hugging my knees, trying to disappear inside myself.

Getting into my own head, lost in my thoughts.

‘Maybe you should just kill yourself and end this shitty life.’ I whispered in my head.

But then I noticed it.

Her clothes—Samantha’s. One of the pink underwear had bled color.

Ruined.

Oh God.

Panic flooded my chest.

She’d kill me. She’d strangle me in my sleep. Or gut me. Or smile while she crushed my skull against the sink.

She’d do it—and laugh.

I racked my brain, searching for a solution. Maybe I could swap it. Hide it. Do anything before someone—

“Oh no… Samantha’s gonna kill you,” came a taunting voice behind me.

Ashley. Another snake.

Goddamn it I'm screwed.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t—don’t tell her. I’ll do your chores. Anything.”

She grinned and shoved me. “Samantha!” she called, holding up the ruined clothes.

I ran after her, breath ragged, legs stumbling over themselves.

But I was too late.

Samantha’s eyes locked onto mine.

“You little bitch.” she growled.

I backed away. “Please. Please, Samantha, I didn’t mean to—” She grabbed my hair, almost ripping it off. I punched her gut and it did almost nothing but angered her.

She grunted.

Of all the times Olivia, you had to fight back now.

Her foot collided with my gut.

I collapsed, gasping for air. She was on me before I could blink.

Hands wrapped around my throat.

She choked the life out of me while the others clapped and cheered like it was a sport.

My eyes blurred.

I thought… this was it.

“Break it up!”

A guard. Finally,

Gun cocked, voice raised. Samantha released me with a smirk and stood.

But her eyes said it all.

This wasn’t over…Not until I was dead.

---

That night, I didn’t sleep. I kept staring at her cot, expecting her to pounce.

“She was killed by her cellmate over underwear,” they’d say.

That’d be my story.

I knew I was clumsy sometimes, but I never knew it would lead me to my death.

Punching back? What were you even thinking? You dug your own grave Olivia.

My mind reminded me of my bad decision, what I needed now was a way out but there was none.

‘Nobody fucking cares remember?’

Until the cell door creaked.

“Prisoner 4831. You’ve got a visitor.”

I frowned. Visiting hours were long over.

Maybe… maybe Gavin came. Maybe Zoey wanted to apologize.

Hope bloomed for a split second.

But when I entered the room—

I froze.

It wasn’t either of them.

A man sat across the table, legs crossed, shadows dancing around him like loyal pets. His eyes—dark grey—pinned me like prey.

“Sit,” he said. His voice was low, smooth, and cold.

I obeyed, keeping space between us. My skin crawled.

“Who… are you?”

“Dean Anderson,” he said, casually.

My blood iced.

Dean Anderson.

I’d heard Father whisper that name once, and even then, he sounded afraid.

“You’re not real,” I breathed.

“I’m very real,” he smiled. “And I’m your only way out.”

He placed a single sheet of paper and a purple pen on the table.

“You want revenge? Freedom? Sign.”

I swallowed my breath.The deal sounded tempting…too good to be true.

“What do you want?”

He leaned forward, eyes gleaming.

“Your soul. Your loyalty. Your vengeance.”

I hesitated.

“No one does something for nothing.”

He held up a phone. Pictures appeared—Gavin and Zoey.

Kissing.

A wedding banner behind them.

“You lie.”

He swiped. Another photo. Gavin placed a ring on her finger.

“You die in this prison. Or you live for vengeance.”

My heart broke open again, raw and ragged.

They betrayed me,all of them.

I signed.

My fingers didn’t shake.

I didn’t look back.

Whatever price came with this deal… I’d pay for it.

Because Olivia Rhodes was dead.

And something else… had just been born.