They shoved me out of the place that had held me prisoner for so long, and my mind went blank. I couldn't remember how I got on the plane. I didn't remember the flight at all. The entire process felt like a dream. All I knew was that I was finally leaving that nightmare. When the plane landed, I finally realized-I was home. At the exit of the airport, a familiar figure was waiting. Hylton Miller-my childhood friend, my fiancé, and the one I used to trust most. The moment he saw me, a gentle smile lit up his face-warm and kind, just like I remembered. He walked toward me, opening his arms to embrace me. "Lina, you're finally back. I missed you so much." His voice was still as pleasant as ever, and his eyes shimmered. But all I felt was a wave of rising nausea. I remembered the drink he handed me that night. I remembered waking up in a foreign land, consumed by despair. Most of all, I remembered the recording his secretary, Priscilla Ashton, played for me during the first month of my captivity. "It's fine. Alina's the young lady of the Winslet family-they won't do anything to her. But Priscilla? She's different. Worst case, I'll make it up to Alina when she gets back..." In the recording, Hylton sounded calm and calculated. To him, I was nothing more than a disposable pawn, someone he could offer up and later toss a few scraps of "compensation" to, as though nothing had ever happened. And now, he had the nerve to come pick me up smilingly as if everything was perfectly normal. The moment his hand touched me, I felt a surge of revulsion and instinctively flung his hand away. The force surprised even me. "Don't touch me!" I shouted, my voice so hoarse that it didn't sound like my own. People at the airport started turning to look, curiosity flickering in their eyes. Hylton's smile froze. A flash of confusion and hurt passed through his gaze. "Lina, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" He reached out again, trying to comfort me. "I said don't touch me!"