Chapter 1

He threatened me, forcing me to be his model.

Edgy, disturbing, pushing every boundary imaginable.

He made me wear revealing clothes, posing as if I was caught in a candid shot.

He’d even fill the bathtub with fake blood and make me soak in it.

The thick, metallic scent of it made me nauseous; I’d turn pale with terror, shaking uncontrollably.

But my brother, Caleb, would just keep clicking the shutter, murmuring, "Perfect."

Then, right in front of me, he’d compile the photos into a collection and upload them.

His smile was manic, his face twisted into something grotesque and eerie.

I had to escape! I *had* to!

Staying with Caleb Hayes any longer, I’d surely be tormented to death!

My name is Aurora Bell, and I work as an alternative model.

My daily routine involved using props to create photo collections, which were then sold through special channels.

Because I produced a lot of material and the quality was good, I gained a reputation in this industry, and my collections sold at a premium.

But I had no money.

The one who got me into this business was Caleb Hayes, my step-brother—we shared neither father nor mother.

All the money from the photo sales went straight to him.

Two years ago, my mom, Eleanor, and I moved into the Hayes household after she married Richard.

The very first day, I knew my life here would be hell.

During our first dinner, Caleb dumped a bowl of soup, meat and all, right onto my head.

Richard Hayes was furious and went to hit him, but my mom held him back.

She said Caleb was just a kid, that it was normal for him not to accept us yet, and that we shouldn't get angry at a child.

Then, she told me to go change.

From that moment, I clearly realized that in this house, my mother wouldn’t protect me.

Caleb obviously realized it too.

So, while I was changing, he quietly slipped into my room.

The click of the shutter made me whip around in terror.

Then I saw Caleb, holding a dark DSLR lens, grinning maliciously as he clicked the shutter again.

Caleb had taken photos of me while I was changing.

My body, my face—everything was clear as day.

Caleb threatened me, demanding I become his model.

If I dared disobey, he wouldn’t just kick me out; he’d post all the photos he’d just taken!

That same day, he made me wear his button-down shirt and pose in various explicit ways on the couch for his photoshoot.

The shirt was barely long enough to cover my thighs.

I cried and refused, but that only earned me a brutal beating from Caleb.

He warned me this was the first time.

If I didn't cooperate next time, he would absolutely make good on his promise.

As he left, he flaunted the DSLR in his hand at me, a smug, triumphant smirk on his face.

I was terrified, but I didn't dare ask my mom for help.

I could only wait for Richard Hayes to come home that night, then deliberately roll up my sleeves and walk past him.

Richard Hayes clearly saw the bruises on my arms.

But he only frowned, said nothing, and went back to looking at his documents.

I clearly realized that Richard Hayes wouldn't stand up for me again.

I was utterly alone, resigned to being Caleb Hayes’s model.

But Caleb only got worse.

He gradually became unsatisfied with me just wearing shirts or short skirts for those "innocent" private shoots.

He started buying lingerie and specific outfits that clients requested, forcing me to wear them.

Any refusal would always result in a beating.

He would even deliberately photograph me covered in bruises, my face streaked with tears.

He was careful when he took those photos, though, never showing my full face.

Those explicit private photos sold incredibly well, and our reputation in that niche circle grew.

Caleb had tasted success and became utterly shameless.

The day he threw a piece of lingerie that barely covered my private parts at me, I completely broke down.

I cried, begging him not to make me wear such things.

He unbuckled his belt without hesitation and started hitting me.

I’d truly had enough of this life.

I just felt that being beaten to death by Caleb might actually be a release.

So I held firm, refusing to compromise.

Caleb got tired of hitting me, and he was furious.

He cursed, tore my clothes, and then used the tattered lingerie to tie me up like a rag doll.

“You ungrateful whore! You don’t want to wear it? Fine, I’ll just shoot you like this!”

Caleb angrily snapped photos of me, compiled them into a collection right in front of me, and uploaded them.

The result? That collection sold out!

And my nightmare truly began.