Chapter 1Beckett Hale spent ten years destroying the woman who put his mother in a coma. Who shoved her down the stairs.
Didn't care that she used to be his girlfriend. Didn't care that she begged.
Just made her pay. Every single day.
Until his mom woke up. Confused.
"What are you talking about? No one pushed me. I FELL."
Crash.
The knife slipped from Beckett's hand.
Hit the floor.
"What?"
He stared at his mom.
Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
Iris was innocent?
He'd made that girl's life hell for ten years. Ten. Years.
And now his mom's telling him she was innocent the whole time?
"Wait—where's Iris?" Mrs. Hale suddenly looked panicked.
"That girl SAVED me. Jumped in when I fell. Risked her life. You two get married yet? Do I have grandkids?"
His throat closed. Couldn't answer.
Because Iris?
After she got out of prison, he'd forced Iris to shack up with a blind beggar.
And that was three years ago.
---
Three years ago, this girl was scrubbing toilets at some club downtown.
Her uniform was way too big—hung off her like a tent. When she finished, she sat on the floor and pulled out a photo.
Her dad. Her little sister. Her.
"Iris! Someone threw up in VIP. Go clean it."
She put the photo away and got up.
She'd gotten out three months ago.
First thing she wanted? Get her sister Ruby from the group home. But they wouldn't give a kid to an ex-con. Not unless you had a real job.
Work was hard to find. High school diploma, criminal record—nobody wanted that. Couldn't even get a dishwashing gig.
But this club? They didn't care. They hired anyone.
The VIP room was crazy loud. Twenty people, maybe more. Drinking, cards, karaoke.
Iris got on her knees and started cleaning the puke.
Then some guy started running his mouth.
"Yo, that's the hot nerd from Lincoln, right? Used to Lysol a pen three times if you touched it. Look at her now—face-down in puke. Karma's a bitch, huh?"
Iris knew him. Hit on her junior year.
She shut him down. He played it cool. "We can still be friends."
After shit hit the fan though? He went the hardest on her. Beat her worse than anyone.
Puke was gross. She kept her head down, moved faster.
Then—wham—he kicked her face-first into it.
"Ah!"
She bit down, wouldn't cry.
The guy laughed. "What, you deaf?"
Deaf?
Yeah. Pretty much.
After Beckett got her locked up, first month in—"accident." Explosion. Fucked up her left ear. Gone.
Some other dude pulled him off. "Yo, chill. She's not worth it."
"You know what's wild?" someone else jumped in. "Back in high school, Iris had it all. Loaded dad—top surgeon in the city. Hot. Smart. And Beckett Hale was crazy about her."
"Now? Total pushover. Won't even stand up for herself."
Ptui.
Someone spit on her head.
Few years back, she would've swung on them.
But high school, prison, all that shit—broke her. Completely.
And if she fought back now? They'd go after Ruby.
Just her? She'd go down swinging.
But not with Ruby on the line.
"She had it coming!" another voice cut in.
"Beckett treated her like a queen. Remember that fire in the equipment room? He barely made it out. Then heard she was still in there and ran back in. Almost died. Still got this huge scar on his back. Voice was fucked for months."
"And what'd she do? Hated his mom for trying to split them up. So while Beckett's in the hospital, she shoved his mom down the stairs. Put her in a coma!"
Everyone started piling on. Just throwing shit at her.
Took her right back to senior year. That nightmare.
Everyone said she hurt Mrs. Hale back then.
Even Beckett bought it.
One word from him, her dad went from respected surgeon to murderer. Killed himself in lockup.
Beckett turned Lincoln High into her own personal hell. Every day was torture.
First, she fought back. Even tried transferring out.
But every time she fought? Her dad got beat up inside.
And when she tried to leave? He died.
Day of the funeral, Beckett showed up. Brought one daisy. Bowed at the grave, all respectful and shit.
Then looked right at her. Voice cold as ice.
"Stay in the cage I made. Your sister stays safe. You don't want her turning into ashes too, right?"
Barely survived senior year. Killed the SATs. Didn't matter.
Beckett made sure no school would touch her.
So she did whatever—sang for cash on corners, dug through dumpsters, straight-up begged.
He made sure she couldn't live normal. Made sure she was nothing.
Then with one move? Got her locked up three years.
Iris finally got the puke cleaned up. Stood there shaking, tried to leave.
But she bumped into someone.
"Sorry! God, I'm so sorry!"
"Ugh! My Chanel! You're disgusting. Get the hell away from me!"
Iris froze.
She knew that voice.
Sloane. Beckett's college girlfriend.
Iris worked at their school back then. Saw them all the time. Beckett used to kiss her so careful, like she'd break.
He really loved Sloane.
Loved her so much that when Iris got Sloane's shoe dirty by accident, he had Iris locked up just to make Sloane feel better.
"Sorry. I'll go."
If Sloane's here, Beckett's here.
She had to get out. Now.
But then—
"Iris."
Her blood went ice-cold.
That low laugh.
"Been a while."
Chapter 2
That voice sounded like it crawled out of hell.
Iris bolted.
But then a hand wrapped around her throat.
"What, you deaf? I'm talking to you."
His breath burned her skin. Couldn't breathe.
Her stomach dropped. That "accident" in prison? The one that took her hearing?
Yeah. That was him.
She started shaking.
Beckett's voice went all sweet. Almost playful. "Why you shaking? We're old friends. And hey—I'm the one who hooked you up with this gig. Not even gonna say thanks?"
Wait. What?
Her mind blanked.
She thought she'd played it safe. Kept her head down, stayed off the grid.
But he'd been watching the whole time.
Iris looked up. Scared out of her mind.
Three years. He'd changed completely.
No more boyish softness. Just cold. Sharp.
She stared at the man she used to love.
"Beckett. I did three years. Can't you just... let me go?"
I lost my dad. Did the time. Lost my hearing in one ear.
Even if I was guilty, haven't I paid enough?
Please. Just let me go.
Beckett didn't even blink.
He pulled Sloane close. Looked at Iris like she was nothing.
"I even got the manager to go easy on you. But if scrubbing toilets ain't your thing, I can move you. How 'bout the pole? You'd kill it."
Iris's lips trembled. Couldn't even get the words out.
"What, you don't wanna?"
No. She didn't.
Iris spun around. "I quit! I'm done!"
She bolted for the door.
Two security guards stepped in front of her. Blocked the way.
She thought that was it.
But then Beckett said, "Let her go."
Iris didn't wait. She ran.
But just before she made it out, she heard him—quiet, cold:
"You're gonna regret this."
Iris didn't look back.
She could find another job. Long as she got away from him.
But even without Beckett screwing her over, finding work wasn't easy.
She took whatever she could get—day labor, random gigs.
Finally, she found something at a construction site. Moving scrap metal.
The site manager was sketchy as hell.
"Don't break anything, kid. This stuff's worth money. You break it, you pay for it. Cash at the end of the day once I weigh everything."
The scrap was heavy. Iris was small. But she worked carefully—made sure every piece stayed intact.
By the end of the shift, she was drenched in sweat.
But when the manager came to check her work, the scrap was trashed. Smashed to pieces.
"You little bitch! You just cost me thousands!" He kicked her hard. "Ex-con trash. Should've never hired you."
He got in her face. "You're paying me back."
No. How did this even happen?
Iris just sat there. Frozen.
Then someone walked over. Tossed a stack of cash at the manager.
"A hundred grand. Get lost."
The manager grabbed the money and left. Grinning.
Iris slumped against the ground. Stared at Beckett. Felt completely hopeless.
"You did this."
He wasn't letting her go. Never was.
Beckett crouched down. Smirking.
"Dummy, I didn't do this. Manager set you up. Wanted to shake you down for cash."
Dummy.
He used to call her that when they were together.
"Dummy, quit staring at those basketball guys. I'M your boyfriend."
She'd shoot back. "You're not dumb. Bet you can't beat my test scores, though."
Later, after everything went to shit, he cornered her in the bathroom. His boys held her down.
"Dummy. You like the hell I made for you?"
"The law won't touch you. So I will."
Beckett's voice snapped her back.
"See? Nobody's gonna hire you. Nobody but me."
He looked down at her like she was dirt.
"Come back to the club. You liked scrubbing toilets, right? Keep at it. And don't even think about running. You know what I can do."
He walked off.
Iris stared at his back. Let out a bitter laugh.
Then she started coughing. Hard.
Blood hit the ground.
She wiped her mouth. Tears streaming.
Beckett, you're so good at destroying me.
So how come you never noticed I'm dying?
Chapter 3
Yeah. Iris was dying.
Stage four stomach cancer. Diagnosed in prison.
She had less than six months.
She wasn't trying to get Ruby out of the group home. Just wanted to see her one last time.
Maybe leave her some money before she died.
Iris went back to the club. Manager gave her the worst jobs—the dirtiest, hardest shit.
She took it all. Didn't say a word.
Didn't complain. Didn't fight.
When her stomach hurt too bad, she'd pop a cheap painkiller. Keep going.
When people yelled at her, she kept her head down.
Eventually, even the manager felt bad.
So when she asked for a work verification letter again, he sighed.
"Iris, forget about your sister. Boss didn't say you could have it. I can't give it to you."
Iris didn't argue. Just turned and walked toward the stairwell.
Wanted to be alone for a minute.
But when she pushed open the door, she saw Beckett. Shirtless. Holding Sloane.
Sloane looked tiny in his arms. Like a delicate little bird.
Beckett's hands were all over her. Soft. Careful.
"Beck, I want that new Chanel bag. The one only in Paris. You gotta spend like ten million to get it."
"You'll have it tomorrow."
Sloane moaned. "Beck, what if someone sees? I'm scared."
Beckett's eyes locked on Iris. Voice ice-cold.
"Anyone sees, I'll rip their eyes out."
Iris's stomach dropped.
She turned to leave.
"Stop."
She froze.
"Buy two boxes of condoms. Bring 'em to the VIP suite."
Iris's shoulders relaxed a little. At least he wasn't gonna do something worse.
She dropped off the condoms. Left fast as she could.
Later, the manager found her. "Go clean the VIP suite. Make it spotless."
Iris put down her half-eaten bread. Went.
The room was trashed. Lingerie. Toys. Sloane's jewelry scattered everywhere.
Iris's face burned. She and Beckett had only ever kissed.
She started cleaning. Carefully setting aside Sloane's expensive stuff.
Then Beckett's voice—out of nowhere.
"You regret it?"
"Ah!"
Iris jumped. Almost fell. Beckett caught her.
She scrambled out of his arms. Face red. "W-what?"
"You regret it? All this could've been yours."
Iris kept her eyes on the floor.
Regret... what?
Regret going to the hospital to see Beckett? Regret talking to his mom in that stairwell?
Beckett kept talking. Voice low. "If you hadn't done what you did, we'd have kids by now."
Back then, his dad was fine with them dating. But his mom? Hated Iris.
Everyone said Iris pushed his mom down the stairs. Revenge.
"Iris. You destroyed me. You destroyed us."
Iris didn't say anything. Just kept cleaning.
Beckett sat on the couch. Lit a cigarette. Watched her cough from the smoke. Didn't care.
"You don't have to work this hard, you know. I could give you that work letter. All you gotta do is beg."
Iris's mind flashed back. She had begged before.
When her dad got arrested, she knelt outside Beckett's house. Three days.
Slammed her head on the ground. Over and over. Begging him to let her dad go.
He didn't.
Her dad died in prison.
Beckett stubbed out the cigarette. Didn't think she'd actually do it.
But then—
Iris grabbed his pant leg. On her knees.
"Mr. Hale. Please. Let me see Ruby. Just once."
Her stomach felt like it was ripping apart.
She was dying. Couldn't hold on much longer.
