**Chapter 5**
When I finally regained consciousness, a searing pain throbbed in my head, as if a thousand tiny hammers were relentlessly pounding away at my skull. I attempted to sit up, but an unseen force held me down, rendering me utterly immobile.
Glancing downward, I was met with a chilling sight: my body was tightly bound with restraints, the cold metal digging into my skin. Panic surged through me, but I was too disoriented to fully comprehend my situation.
The door creaked open, and in walked Stellan, his movements deliberate and slow. He didn’t utter a word; he merely stood there, his eyes fixed on me, a mixture of concern and something darker swirling in his gaze. It was a look I had seen before but never fully understood.
“Stellan, let me go,” I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper, strained and shaky.
He shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips, heavy with resignation. “Ella, Leah’s had a severe mental breakdown. The doctors say her chances of recovery are… slim.” His words hung in the air, thick with unspoken implications.
“So what? I already told you—I had nothing to do with it. I have no reason to hurt her.” My heart raced as I fought against the restraints, desperation clawing at my insides.
In that moment, the last flicker of guilt vanished from his eyes, replaced by a steely resolve. “You’re still in denial. Still refusing to take responsibility. Fine. Then I won’t hold back either. You’re going to experience what depression treatment feels like. Consider it payback for what you did to Leah.” His tone was cold, devoid of the warmth I once thought we shared.
With a swift motion, he signed the consent form the doctor handed him, a finality to his actions that sent a chill down my spine.
“Thanks, doc. Let’s get started,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
I turned my gaze to the doctor as he began preparing the electroshock equipment, dread pooling in my stomach. My vision blurred, and everything around me turned a shade of crimson.
“Stellan!” I screamed, my voice echoing in the sterile room.
He didn’t even flinch. There was no hesitation, no backward glance. He simply walked out, shutting the door with a finality that felt like a death knell.
The doctor approached me, a sinister grin plastered across his face. “Miss Morningstar, right? Someone paid me extra to take *special* care of you. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure you walk out of here without a scratch on you.” His words dripped with malice as he pressed the electrodes to my temples.
Then, without warning, a surge of electricity coursed through me, ripping through my body like a lightning strike.
“AHHHHHHH—” I screamed, the sound echoing off the walls, a primal cry of pain and despair.


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer