Chapter 3

Although Shawn was my adopted son, I had raised him single-handedly. It was only in recent years that I started living alone in the villa due to my serious allergies.

Upon seeing their menacing expressions, I cautiously stepped back after getting up. Suddenly, a bracelet fell from the table.

"That's right—the bracelet!" I exclaimed inwardly.

Then, I said, "I really am his mother! Shawn said he picked this bracelet out with his girlfriend as a gift for me. You must have seen it, right?"

I held up the golden bracelet to show Celine. She didn't react, so I picked up my phone from the floor and opened WhatsApp.

"This is our family chat group," I said, pointing at the screen. The last message was sent the previous night, and it showed a voice message from Shawn.

"Hey, Mom. You're the cutest mom in the world. I had a special hair dye mixed just for you, and it's totally safe for you to use. Didn't you say you wanted to color your hair pink? I'll come over and dye it for you."

"Sure thing! I hereby declare you're the sweetest son in the world!" I had replied.

My parents rarely talked in the group—it was usually just Shawn and me.

Celine stared at the messages for a long moment. I thought she finally believed me after seeing this evidence.

"Shawn is my son. You see, I'm telling the truth!" I said, feeling relieved.

But before I could finish, Celine yanked my hair and threw my phone into my lap.

Celine snarled, "Mother and son? Don't make me laugh! You're just a shameless wench who seduces a man younger than yourself! He had lied to me, saying that the bracelet was meant for his mother. It turns out it was for you, you vixen!

"Yesterday, I asked Shawn to spend the day with me, but he said he was busy. It turns out he came here to dye your hair!"

Her grip on my hair tightened. When she saw my pink hair, all reason left her. She grabbed a pair of scissors from the table and began cutting my hair wildly. As she did that, she further aggravated the wound on my head.

The wound on my head caused a searing pain to shoot through me. I could only clutch my head and crouch in agony while wailing. Celine then kicked me hard, sending me sprawling on the floor.

My head hit the ground with a sharp thud, and pain radiated through my chest. I found it hard to breathe at this point.

As if it wasn't enough, she delivered several more brutal kicks to my chest.

Then, she pointed at the women behind her and screamed, "Don't just stand there! Help me teach her a lesson. And you… Dye your hair yourself next time!"

The pressure on my chest increased as she pressed down with her foot. I tried to escape from her by writhing my body, but it was no use. The other women joined in and pinned me down.

The overwhelming smell of their heavy makeup suffocated me. This meant that I was having an allergic reaction. I struggled to breathe as Celine retrieved a small hammer from a toolbox nearby.

"If you can't use your own hand, you might as well not have it," Celine said maliciously.

I watched helplessly as she raised the hammer and brought it down on my little finger.

"Ah!" I screamed as my finger bent at an unnatural angle with blood seeping from the wound.

Before I could process the pain, she struck my other fingers. One by one, all five fingers on my left hand were broken and twisted. I didn't even dare to move.

After much struggling, I clutched my injured hand with my other, sobbing uncontrollably as tears and snot smeared across my face.

Soon, they reached for my right hand. I hid it behind my back desperately. The pain inflicted on my hand was unreal. Of course, I didn't wish for more.

Yet, there were too many of them. In the end, they easily yanked my right hand from my back and stretched it out.

Celine stood over me, grinning like a demon from hell with the hammer in her hand.

My vision darkened for a moment, and I wished for unconsciousness to take me. But the sharp pain from my right hand snapped me back to reality as Celine smashed it mercilessly.

It became clear to me then—these women were convinced I had seduced Shawn. So, they had come here to punish me for it. Nothing I said mattered to them.

They held me down, and I stared blankly at the small hammer as it struck the joints of my fingers again and again.

By the time they were finished, all ten of my fingers were broken. They became grotesquely twisted against my palms. I was in a daze. Due to the agony, I bit my tongue so hard that it bled.

My anguished screams echoed through the living room, but their faces showed only satisfaction. They laughed and debated their next move as if deciding the punishment for a heinous criminal.

"Get a knife and cut her tendons," Celine ordered.

One of the women followed her instructions and stabbed a knife into my wrist. She made a twisting movement before moving to the other hand. Then, they did the same to my feet.

When they finally stopped, I lay motionless in a pool of blood, trembling uncontrollably. Even though my body refused to move, I couldn't stop the trembling in my arms.