“I will never let my uncle marry anyone but me!”
Ivy’s shrill voice pierced the air, her words cutting like knives.
“My mother died the first time he tried to marry, and my father died the second. Let’s see if Elena Shaw even dares to try a third time!”
Her arrogant voice echoed in my mind, again and again, like a cursed melody I couldn’t silence.
Something in me snapped.
I kicked open the villa door and slammed my hand on the speaker, cutting the music mid-beat. The room froze.
Without hesitation, I turned and slapped Ivy hard across the face.
Her head whipped to the side. Shock filled her wide eyes. Her hand flew to her cheek, red and swelling.
“You hit me?!” she shrieked. “No one has ever dared to hit me!”
She screamed for help, and within seconds, several people rushed in, grabbing my arms and forcing me to the ground.
“You think you can act like this just because your parents died?” Ivy sneered, towering over me. “You think you’re special?”
Her high heel slammed down on the back of my hand.
Pain exploded through my arm, and I screamed.
“I already killed your mother. I pulled out your father’s oxygen tube. And if I want, I can kill you too.”
“To people like me, your life means nothing.”
Someone turned the music back on. The party resumed like nothing had happened.
And then it got worse.
Ivy and her friends began kicking me—again and again. Someone dragged a knife across my arm, shallow but deliberate. Blood streamed down, and Ivy laughed, eyes bright with cruelty.
“You’ll pay for this,” I hissed through gritted teeth, rage blinding my pain. “Ivy, you will pay.”
She tilted her head, smirking.
“Pay?”
She turned to the others. “Tie her up.”
They dragged me to a small storage room, bound me, and taped my mouth shut.
Before leaving, Ivy crouched in front of me and smiled. “Open your eyes, Elena. You’ll see who really pays the price.”
I struggled against the restraints, fury pounding in my chest. Just then, the door creaked open.
Dominic stepped inside.
He looked at Ivy, then frowned. “What happened to your face?”
She didn’t answer directly. Instead, she glanced toward the cubicle where I was hidden. Her lips curled into a wicked smile.
“You always think I’m causing trouble.”
“Come on, let’s end the party. When Elena comes back, she’ll be upset again,” she said sweetly.
Dominic chuckled and flicked her nose affectionately. “You always make such a fuss.”
“Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
Ivy clung to his waist, white fingers tightening around him. “Uncle…”
He gave in easily. “I’ll take you somewhere.”
I could barely breathe as the door opened. From where I was hidden, I saw it all.
Dominic pinned Ivy against the wall.
His voice—low, tender, full of desire—was nothing like the cold tones he used with me.
“Ivy… you shouldn’t tempt me like this.”
“You know we can never be together, not publicly.”
My nails dug into my palms.
Eight years.
In eight years, the only time Dominic and I had slept together, he was drunk. And I had initiated it. I thought he was simply dispassionate. That he didn’t care for sex.
But now I knew the truth: he just didn’t want me.
“I know,” Ivy whispered. “That’s why I’ll always be your little pet.”
She pulled him into a kiss. Their bodies pressed together. Hands roamed. The moans, the way they touched each other—it was more than betrayal. It was humiliation.
And I watched it all.
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. The pain in my body was nothing compared to this.
Later, as they lay tangled on the couch, Ivy rested her head on his chest, her voice syrupy and smug.
“Uncle… I pulled out Elena’s father’s oxygen tube.”
For a moment, I held my breath, waiting.
Waiting for him to react.
To show even the smallest shred of outrage.
But all Dominic did was sigh and kiss her forehead.
“You really love causing trouble, don’t you?”
