Chapter 3

In the days that followed, the person bringing meals changed to a housekeeper, and Carter stopped appearing altogether.

However, Amy Jefferson came to visit.

I had seen her a few times before and knew she was the adopted daughter of the Hall family.

She was also the true love Carter kept in his heart.

Her features were delicate, and her big, watery eyes evoked sympathy in anyone who saw her.

She carried herself with the poise of the lady of the house, walking up to me in high heels.

Her black dress accentuated her graceful figure.

"I heard you were wandering outside for three years and became both mute and simple-minded," she said.

"Carter hates you so much. Your life won't be easy if you stay here. If you want to leave, I can help you."

I looked up, trembling, catching the fleeting mockery in her eyes. Her lips curved into a smile, and her gaze softened gradually.

I desperately wanted to leave.

Afraid of missing this only lifeline, I eagerly agreed.

She made me swap clothes with her and put on sunglasses.

She even kindly reminded me again, "This is the only way to get past the security at the gate. Once you’re out, my driver will take you wherever you want to go."

I was so nervous that I kept swallowing, nodding repeatedly.

All I could think of was the joy of escaping this prison.

I never expected that by the time I came back to my senses, I’d already been taken to a party.

Very soon, people began to recognize me.

“Well, isn’t this the heiress of the Thomson family? What brings you down here?”

“Heiress? Haven’t you seen the trending news? She’s just a beggar now.”

“I thought so. The high-and-mighty Lindsey Thomson wouldn’t come to our little party unless she was here to scavenge for trash.”

“Hahaha…”

I used to be arrogant; under my father’s protection, I never learned how to get along with people. Because of that, I had offended many. Now, my downfall had become their joke.

Amid the jeering laughter, I clutched the hem of my dress nervously, constantly glancing toward the exit.

A flash of white entered my line of sight. Amy’s forehead was bruised, and she looked disheveled. I didn’t have time to think; I rushed over to grab her arm, begging her to take me away from here.

Her gaze fell behind me, and suddenly, she started crying out loudly.

“Lindsey, I know you hate me. It’s okay if you knocked me out and stole my clothes, but can you please go back first? Don’t embarrass Carter, okay?”

“Lindsey Thomson!”

Before I could react, someone yanked me away forcefully. I stumbled a few steps and hit the corner of a table. Along with the shattering sound of wine glasses, I fell heavily to the ground.

Glass shards were deeply embedded in my palm. Enduring the searing pain, I looked up, meeting a pair of eyes filled with rage. I shook my head frantically, trying to say it wasn’t like that.

But the contempt and disdain in the room told me no one believed me.

Not even Carter.

He picked up Amy, speaking to me word by word: “Don’t test my patience again.”

Of course.

His bottom line had always been Amy.

......

I was brought back to the villa, waiting in despair for the inevitable retribution.

Hours later, Carter returned. He stared at the untouched food, his breathing growing heavier as he struggled to contain his anger.

I wanted to cry out of fear, but I dared not.

In the past, as the pampered daughter of the Thomson family, I had been willful and prone to tantrums.

Crying was my favorite way to express my emotions.

But Carter would always push me aside in irritation, saying, "Lindsey, your tears disgust me."

So, to avoid repulsing him, I had learned to hold back my tears ever since.

Carter lowered himself, crouching before me. The faint scent of tobacco lingered in the air around us.

He gripped my chin, forcing me to look directly at him. His handsome features were furrowed, his expression cold and rigid.