Chapter 3

“Arjan... wait... don’t hurt her!” Dia cried out, trying to intervene.

She quickly fell limp in Ethan's arms, pretending to be as fragile as a flower, despite having been strong enough to slap Taylah in class.

“Are you happy now? If anything happens to her, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. I’ll make you miserable,” Ethan shouted, holding Dia tightly.

Arjan frowned, his expression darkening.

He released his grip on Taylah’s neck and rushed to Dia, who lay unconscious in Ethan's arms.

Ethan glared fiercely at Taylah before lifting Dia in his arms and leaving the room with the others.

The large room fell silent the moment they departed.

Taylah collapsed onto the bed, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She couldn’t help but laugh at her miserable situation.

Dia... she wasn’t really dead, was she? How dramatic.

This was all part of Dia Edwards’ plan, yet it was Taylah who was left suffering.

Seducing her own brother-in-law and manipulating her sister’s mental state... What would their parents think?

They had warned her before the party: if she did anything to disgrace the family, they would cast her out.

Just thinking about it made her shiver. The only shelter she had was the Edwards family, but even that had shifted to Dia, the adopted daughter.

Left alone in that cold room, no one cared about her existence. Tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks.

In her current situation, she felt utterly abandoned—her fiancé had spoken up for her so-called sister. Thankfully, her clothes weren’t too damaged, but they were still far too revealing to wear during the day.

She had to wear the damaged clothes that her grandmother had stitched for her 18th birthday, now ruined by him. It felt like a nightmare.

Taylah couldn’t go anywhere but back to the Edwards mansion. She feared her father’s anger, but if she didn’t return home today, she would end up on the streets.

“What a tough life,” she thought to herself as she stepped out of the hotel where her and her sister's birthday party had been held.

The Edwards family hadn’t thrown the party for her; it was all for her sister.

To cover the damaged parts of her dress, she draped an overcoat that had been left behind by someone in the party hall.

Taylah reached the Edwards house on foot, her feet aching from the wounds caused by her heels, but the pain in her abdomen was even worse, a reminder of what had happened with Arjan last night.

Every time she thought of him, her face flushed with anger.

As she stepped inside, her father’s furious voice greeted her.

“Kneel down! You bitch” he shouted, rolling his belt in his hand.

“How dare you seduce your brother-in-law? Don’t you have any shame? Did your family raise you to seduce others? You’re as shameless as your slut mother!” he yelled.

A hard slap struck her cheek, causing her mouth to bleed. Her ears rang, drowning out everything else around her.

“I’m too grateful to feed you, but you bite the hand that feeds you, huh?” he shouted, swinging his leather belt at her.

It began again...

Whenever Dia complained about Taylah for mistakes she hadn’t made, her father would unleash his anger on her with that belt. In the end, it was all part of Dia’s scheme. Taylah’s body was covered in wounds inflicted by her own father.

After about fifteen hits, her body was covered in wounds from the leather belt, and she could no longer hold on. She collapsed to the floor.

Her head felt heavy and dizzy, and she coughed up blood as her vision blurred.

"Is he really my own father?" she thought, before everything went dark and she fainted.

They truly didn’t care about her. In their eyes, she didn’t exist; she was nothing more than a slave in their house.

“such a slutty bastard,” Mr Edwards groans and tossed the belt on her.

“Clean this mess up, take her to her room. No one is allowed to care for her, and don’t send her any food,” he ordered before leaving the hall.

That night...

Taylah regained consciousness, the metallic smell of blood making her feel nauseous. Her head throbbed, and the sharp pain from her wounds coursed through her fragile body.

She realized she was lying on the cold floor, like dying grass in winter. In that moment, she blamed her fate for her relentless misfortune.

She pushed herself up from the floor and walked to the shower. As she stripped off her torn clothes, she caught a glimpse of her body in the mirror.

Her skin was marked with welts from the belt and bruises from his love bites, now a deep purple. The wounds were swollen and inflamed.

Turning on the shower, the water hit her wounds, and she stifled a whimper of pain, feeling an unbearable ache throughout her body.

When she finally stepped out of the shower, her usually white skin was red and raw, and she wrapped herself in a soft bath towel.

She slipped into her old clothes, discarded by her sister, and picked up a photo frame, hugging it tightly.

A bitter smile spread across her crimson lips as her body trembled.

“Mom... now they say we’re just sluts who seduce men for our own gain. It hurts... No one cares about me in this world. Why did you leave me?” she whimpered.

For the next two days, she remained in her room without food, relying on a bottle of water for sustenance.

No one checked on her health. The wounds on her body began to heal, but at a slow rate, hindered by her weakened and delicate condition.

AFTER TWO DAYS

Taylah heard noise in the early morning, as if the family was preparing to leave the house. It was her chance to escape; without the servants at home, she could make her move.

She decided to leave, but knew she needed to find somewhere to go.

Suddenly, one person came to mind.

Dicentra... her classmate. Though she often scolded Taylah for no reason, she was somewhat generous compared to the others. Most of their classmates followed Dia’s lead and bullied Taylah, but Dicentra was different; she was reliable and could be trusted.

She took a quick shower and slipped into her usual clothes, which felt looser than before. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for any sounds outside. When she heard nothing, she cautiously turned the doorknob and opened the door.

Stepping out of her room, she found the house eerily quiet. The silence was almost deafening.

A chill ran down her spine, as if something ominous was about to happen.

Yes, they would surely come down hard on her if she left the house, but she refused to starve to death within those walls. Even the maids bullied her.

No one would care if she died in that house. Her first priority was to keep herself safe.

She slowly opened the door and quickly stepped outside, avoiding looking ahead.

Suddenly, she bumped into someone and fell to the floor. Her heart raced; she didn’t want to see who it was.

What if it was her father? He would surely punish her with the belt, more brutally than before. Fear gripped her heart, darkening her expression.

Today... she was done for, or so her mind told her. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at the person’s face.

Her whole body Trembled and the breath quickened. Why did he had to be weak? Fearing the people who done wrong. She felt like crying and praying god to give her some peace at least.