Beneath the Scars

PROLOGUE

The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon seeping through the cracks in the curtains. Xiline sat on the edge of her bed, clutching a faded photograph. In it, a younger version of herself smiled brightly, blissfully unaware of the storm that would soon engulf her life.

"When did it all start? Why's my life like this?"

Her thoughts drifted back to the night she lost everything. She could still feel the cold tiles beneath her knees, hear the heart-wrenching silence that followed Thorne’s rage. That night, she had cradled her unborn child in her arms, feeling the last flutter of life slip away. The pain of that moment had seared itself into her soul, leaving an indelible scar.

"I'm very sorry my child. I wished to give you the life that I didn't get. I promised to love and protect you but..." She but her lower lips trying to stop herself from crying.

Xil’s eyes, swollen from endless nights of tears, were now dry. The sorrow that once consumed her was replaced by a seething fury. Her parents’ betrayal was no less cruel. They had watched her suffer, using her pain to manipulate and control her. When she sought solace in Thorne, they had turned a blind eye to his abuse, leaving her to fend for herself in a world that seemed to conspire against her.

For weeks, she had been a ghost, drifting through the remnants of her shattered life. But tonight was different. As she sat in the stillness, a new clarity emerged from the depths of her grief. The loss of her child was a wound that would never heal, but it was also a catalyst. It had awakened something fierce and unyielding within her—a burning desire for justice and retribution.

She stood slowly, her gaze hardening as she looked around the room. This was the last night she would allow herself to be paralyzed by pain. She walked to the window, pulling the curtains wide open, letting the moonlight flood the room. It was time to step out of the shadows, to reclaim her power and her life.

Xiline meticulously plotted her revenge, crafting a plan that would bring her enemies to their knees. She would make them pay for every tear they had caused, every moment of suffering they had inflicted.

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Xiline stood, her eyes steely with determination. This was her beginning—a journey of vengeance that would lead her to the very heart of darkness. And she would emerge victorious, no longer a victim, but a force to be reckoned with.

She took one last look at the photograph, then set it down gently. The time for tears was over. The time for action had begun.