Chapter 2

A sharp sting shot through the back of my hand as cold liquid flowed into my veins via the IV. The nurse told me I needed another week of rest.

One week…

That was enough time for me to put my past behind me.

Once discharged, I returned to the Langston residence.

The moment I opened the door, a few heavy books flew straight at me and hit me square in the face.

I stumbled back and tumbled down the front steps. In the process, my legs scraped against the jagged stones on the floor, staining the cold, hard ground with my blood.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself upright, then looked up to see who it was.

It was none other than Queenie. She was carrying a stack of books in her hands.

"Oh, you're back? Why didn't you say anything? It's all my fault for not noticing you earlier."

She casually tossed the rest of the books beside me, some even smacking me right in the forehead.

The rage inside me boiled over instantly.

Those books were all medical collections that I painstakingly collected over a decade, and among them were also my notes over the years!

As the blood rushed to my head, my vision blurred. I almost collapsed again.

However, Shawn and Nigel just leaned lazily against the doorway, looking down on me with nothing but scorn.

"So the act's over, huh? Couldn't bear to give up the luxuries of the Langston residence, so you came crawling back?" Shawn sneered, acting as if he had just seen through some grand scheme.

Nigel frowned and said in a low voice, "If you want to come back, start by apologizing to Queenie."

I clenched my teeth and steadied myself as scenes of the past started replaying in my mind.

Although Mr. Langston Senior brought me back to the villa, I had kept my head down the whole time, too timid to speak.

It was Shawn who made silly faces to break the ice and make me laugh.

Meanwhile, Nigel had given up his own bedroom for me and assured me with the gentlest voice that this would always be my home.

I ended up living here for over a decade, naïvely believing I might one day become the lady of this household.

All was well until the day I hired Queenie as an intern.

She came from a humble background, and I felt sorry for her, so I invited her home for dinner.

One dinner turned into many more.

It started with her "accidentally" damaging my clothes and jewelry.

Now, she had the nerve to throw out my treasured collection of medical books and notes. She knew full well how much they meant to me.

I stepped forward, ready to confront her, but Shawn shoved me hard back to the ground.

"Queenie is the lady of the house now. She can throw out whatever she wants! And you'd better stop bullying her. What, do you still think you're running the hospital?

"You're just an employee of the Langston family. You're nothing special. From now on, you'll be Queenie's assistant. Move into the maid's quarters and quit walking around like you own the place!"

As he spoke, he threw all my medical competition trophies to the ground in one go, then turned to Queenie with a smug grin, practically begging for her approval.

Queenie leaned coquettishly against Nigel's chest, clearly loving every second of it as she shot me a triumphant look.

Nigel wrapped an arm around her protectively and shot me a cold look. "Did you hear that, Yvonne? We're not going to spoil you like before."

Despite his reputation as The Iron Judge in the office, he used to treat me with warmth and gentleness.

If this were before, seeing this side of him would've kept me up all night. But now? Knowing I'd be leaving this house for good, I couldn't be bothered.

I averted my gaze. My chest ached and felt as though it was about to explode.

Despite that, I replied calmly, "I'll move out as soon as I can. As for being an assistant… I'm not qualified for the job. I'll just resign."

Shawn let out a mocking laugh.

"Trying to act pitiful again? Sorry, we're not falling for that crap anymore. But for your deceased mother's sake, we'll still throw you a bone. We won't let you starve in the streets."

I ignored the taste of blood in my mouth, bent down, and picked up the now-filthy notebooks at my feet, then tossed them into the trash.

"No need."

I, Yvonne Sachman, could live without relying on men.

If something was tainted, I wouldn't keep it. I'd throw it out.

Back then, I came to the Langston residence all alone. Now, I had barely anything to pack.

All those clothes and accessories were gifts from the Langston brothers.

They used to bring luxury store assistants to the house with new seasonal collections for me to choose from.

Even when I gasped at the price tags and refused, they'd just pull me into a hug and assured me that I deserved the best in the world.

And now? Those same clothes had been secretly cut to shreds, crumpled into corners. The pile even smelled faintly of rot and something foul.

It was obviously the work of Queenie.

Once, I was the apple of the Langston brothers' eyes.

Now? I was just another piece of trash in their gutter.

I let out a soft, indifferent chuckle.

All I wanted was to take the few things that truly mattered—Mom's keepsakes in the safe and the little pet turtle by the window.

But when I looked toward the tank, I froze.

The turtle was lying on its back, and its hard shell was covered with vicious bite marks!