Ruth's POV
There wasn't much to pack in the room, just a few belongings, mostly clothes. But what weighed me down wasn't the items themselves; it was the memories each one carried, tucked away in every corner of the room, and the hollowed-out version of myself I was desperate to leave behind.
By the bedside, sat a rabbit plushie, its skirt frayed and a button missing, yet it was still spotless, washed clean. It had been a birthday gift I had shamelessly begged Shane to buy for me.
He always bought La Mer for Mackenzie, and she had emptied more than a few bottles by now.
But every time she finished one, I washed this little rabbit again and again, until it looked brand new. As if by keeping it spotless, I could trick myself into believing Shane hadn't forgotten me.
How foolish.
I tossed the rabbit into the trash, feeling a sharp ache in my chest.
'Shane, the part of me that kept begging for your favor, I don't want it anymore...'
But before the rabbit's soft white fur even touched the trash, Shane's hand grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and cruel.
With a tone of utter contempt, he inquired, "Ruth, what are you up to now? Playing hard to get? You have no job, no parents. If you leave the Ackerman family, what will you do? Beg on the streets?"
His words twisted deep in my gut.
My heart clenched with pain. "Shane, you were the one who once said—"
I paused, locking eyes with him, my mind screaming the words I couldn't say aloud: 'It was you, Shane. You told me I didn't need a job, that being your spoiled princess was enough. You said my parents were out of touch, clueless about love, and couldn't see how good you were to me.'
Yet, upon seeing his eyes, which were filled with hatred, I was rendered speechless.
And at that moment, I remembered.
I had said these words to him before.
All it ever earned me was his disgust.
"Ruth, you really are a fool," I said to myself.
So foolish that it took me this long to see the truth.
There she was, Mackenzie, in the doorway with a triumphant smile, looking completely unapologetic.
"Shane, since Ruth wants to leave on her own, why bother stopping her?"
She casually swung open my wardrobe, taking a handful of my clothes in one swift motion.
Then, Mackenzie added, "Burn everything. Cancel all her cards. Besides, she's obedient. I'm sure in a few days she'll be crawling back to you in a few days, begging for forgiveness."
Shane wrapped his arms around her, his eyes shifting from a glare of hatred directed at me to a soft, almost tender gaze that cut deeper than any knife ever could.
"As expected of my Mackenzie."
Unashamed, Shane's lips met hers in a deep, passionate kiss. The sound of their shared breaths echoed in my ears, each one piercing through me like a thousand needles.
Mackenzie's fingers slid down Shane's chest, her movements deliberate.
Kissing her harder, Shane pulled her closer as though he wanted to become one with her.
They were perfect.
I once bit my lip, refusing to admit it.
I once felt a sense of unwillingness, resentment, and even envy.
But now, I watched, numb, as Mackenzie flicked open a lighter and set my clothes and jewelry ablaze.
The flames crackled wildly, and sparks flew toward me, searing my skin with bursts of pain.
Shane noticed the burn on my arm, but his concern wasn't for me. "Mackenzie, be careful, don't burn yourself."
Then he shot me a cold glance, almost approving, as if silently saying, 'Good. This time, you've learned your lesson.'
I gave a bitter smile.
The last time I dared interfere, I was thrown out into the snow for three days. Frostbite ate away at my body, leaving me with a lifelong chill. I couldn't even drink cold water without trembling.
"Keep burning," Shane said flatly. "Burn until she learns obedience, until she begs."
He wanted me to beg.
But all I wanted was to see these worthless things turn to ash.
When I ran away to be with him, I had nothing. Not even a change of nightclothes. He had gone to great lengths then, buying me slippers identical to mine, running across the city to find them.
Now, as I left, I wanted to go with nothing. Not even these memories that clung to me like chains. I wanted them all burned away.
But then, Mackenzie discovered a hidden compartment in my bookshelf and pulled out an old photograph.
I panicked. "Don't burn that photo!"
It was my parents' last portrait.
She froze, a mocking smile curling at the corners of her lips. "When did Ruth get so 'devoted'? Where was this urgency when you skipped their funeral, all while clinging to Shane so he could tattoo your name on his skin?"
Shane laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. "She's pretending. She doesn't want to leave me—she's just looking for an excuse."
Then, Mackenzie flicked the lighter, and flames quickly consumed my father's shirt in the photograph.
I couldn't hold back anymore. The tears I had been holding back spilled freely down my cheeks.
"Please! Anything! I'll do anything, just don't burn that photo!" I cried out, my voice trembling.
'Mom, Dad, forgive your unfilial daughter. Even if it costs me everything, I'll hold on to this one memory of you,' I thought, staring solemnly at the burning image.
Right then, Shane gripped my chin so tightly that my bones nearly cracked.
"See? If you'd been like this sooner, would it have come to this?"
Yes. I should have realized long ago.
I was nothing more than a caged bird to him, unable to break free from his control, and unworthy of even an ounce of his mercy.
After that, Shane tossed a stack of papers at me.
"Sign this, and I'll consider it."
