Carlos’s gaze swept over the angry red rashes marring my skin. His expression remained indifferent.
"Stephen was a little too playful this time. I brought you allergy medicine, take it. Don’t let it ruin tonight’s banquet."
Even with his wife long gone, he hosted a grand banquet every year on her birthday, ensuring the world never forgot the woman he cherished.
For years, I had tread carefully within the Davis family, bowing to his every command without question.
The moment I swallowed the pill, the servants flanking Carlos seized me, forcing me down onto the sofa. My arms and legs were pinned, leaving me no room to struggle.
Two masked men stepped forward, one holding a cup of pigment, the other gripping a tattoo needle. Without hesitation, the needle pierced straight into the open wounds on my leg.
Agony shot through me, my vision going stark white. My breath caught in my throat as the color drained from my face.
Carlos gazed down at me, his voice laced with frost.
"Stephen may be mischievous, but you should have known better than to wear a color Evie despised on her birthday. I’ve told you before that nothing she disliked is permitted in this house."
"When you make a mistake, you must accept the consequences."
An hour later, the fresh wounds on my leg had transformed into the image of a vivid red rose. Drops of blood still oozed from the petals, making it look almost lifelike.
Red roses, Evie’s favorite flower. Her favorite color. The very same tattoo once marked her leg.
Carlos’s sharp gaze lingered on my pale face. His expression shifted, softening ever so slightly before he dismissed the others with a wave of his hand.
He knelt on one knee, his lips brushing against the rose etched into my skin. His kiss trailed upward, laced with a slow-burning desire.
"Remember, you’ll wear Evie’s favorite red dress. Be good, and I might consider returning one of your eggs. But don’t make a mistake like today again. You nearly let Stephen find out the truth. He belongs to Evie, no one else. No one will ever take her son from her."
Carlos had always been a man of control over others, over himself, over everything he touched.
So, the day I was brought into this house, he stripped me of my future. Every last egg was taken.
"A child is only mine if they come from Evie’s womb."
"The only reason I let you raise Stephen was because it was her dying wish. She wouldn't entrust him to anyone else. But you, don't even think about claiming him as yours."
His lips hovered dangerously close to the top of my thigh, but this time, I did not surrender.
I shoved him away.
"Mr. Davis, I won’t wear the dress, and I won’t be attending the banquet."
"My adoptive mother passed away today. Our contract is void. I’m leaving."
The moment the words left my lips, the heat in Carlos’s gaze turned to ice.
He rose to his feet, his expression darkening like a brewing storm.
"She was just an adoptive mother, no blood ties, nothing. If she’s dead, then she’s dead. Are you really going to mourn an outsider? Don't forget your place. The family cannot afford such humiliation!"
"Stephen may not have come from your womb, but he carries half your blood. You raised him for seven years, and now you think you can just walk away?" He let out a cold laugh. "Dahlia, you are unbelievably selfish."
His words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.
My status? What was I, really?
An illegitimate daughter, hidden in the shadows of my family name?
A mere caretaker hired to raise a child that was never mine?
Or the woman Stephen resented, the homewrecker he loathed to his very core?
Back then, Carlos and my half-sister were the envy of Ridgeway’s elite, an untouchable golden couple.
Their union wasn’t just a marriage; it was a merger of power, elevating the Cavendish name to the pinnacle of wealth and prestige.
Perhaps their love was so flawless that even the heavens grew resentful because fate dealt Evie a cruel hand. Born without eggs, she could never conceive a child of her own.
But she adored children. She refused to use a stranger’s egg, and her younger sister was still too young. So she turned to me, the desperate woman drowning in debt.
One million dollars. The price of my adoptive mother’s life. The price of my first child.
Then, fate struck again. Evie died unexpectedly.
Before she took her last breath, she feared for Stephen. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone in this world, so she made one final wish.
She asked me to raise him.
