After this incident, Wade did not let Margarita go.
As if granting her his "forgiveness," he assigned her a lowly assistant position—one designed to humiliate rather than employ.
During work hours, Margarita was forced to kneel on the office floor, scrubbing tiles while colleagues and visitors stepped around her, their amused or pitiful glances stripping away her last shreds of dignity.
At night, when Wade and Casey were together, Margarita had to anticipate their every need—keeping condoms and sex toys at the ready, so their pleasure would never be interrupted.
When they went shopping, she became nothing more than a living mannequin, slipping in and out of clothes for Casey’s amusement while Wade watched indifferently.
Every moment was a carefully orchestrated punishment. Margarita was forced to witness how tenderly Wade spoiled Casey, how cruelly he ensured she felt his hatred.
Wade tossed a designer bag to her—one that Casey had discarded. His tone carried the weight of disdainful charity.
"It's a reward for you."
Margarita lunged forward, catching the bag before it hit the ground, clutching it tightly.
If she sold it, she could make good money. And right now, money was all she needed.
She longed for an escape. The quiet waves of Maldives called to her—the promise of being lost in an endless ocean, where no one could reach her.
Let the sea take her. Let it wash away the remnants of Margarita.
On the day of Wade and Casey's engagement party, Margarita was stationed at the entrance—her task humiliatingly simple. She had to kneel and polish the shoes of every arriving guest, ensuring that the first thing they saw upon entering was her disgrace.
Meanwhile, Casey stood at the center of it all, resplendent. She wore the very wedding dress Wade had once commissioned for Margarita—now repurposed as an engagement gown. With every delicate thread, it mocked Margarita’s past.
She was radiant, dazzling like a princess under the golden chandeliers.
Wade stood beside her, his expression softened by adoration. Like a king before his court, he kissed the back of Casey's hand, sealing their union.
Margarita kept her head down, but her mind betrayed her, pulling her back to the past.
She and Wade had once dreamed of their wedding, nestled together in whispered promises.
She had told him she wanted a sea of flowers, every bloom adorned with jewels.
Wade had smiled and vowed to have the finest designer craft jewelry just for her, to make her the most beautiful bride, to give her a wedding so grand the world would remember.
And now, every single promise he had made was being fulfilled—just not for her.
What about marriage?
How magnificent a wedding would he give Casey?
"What are you daydreaming about? Polish my shoes!"
A man sneered, raising his chin as he pressed his leather shoe against Margarita’s face, smearing dirt across her cheek.
"Didn’t you fail to do your job and let Wade’s sister die? This is just karma, isn’t it? If you ask me, Wade is too kind for even letting you live—let alone giving you a job."
The weight of his shoe crushed against her skin, but Margarita didn’t resist. She simply lowered her head, wordlessly continuing to polish.
"I heard your parents are dead. No family, no future. A criminal record, no real job. What’s the point of even living?"
He twisted his shoe against her face, as if grinding her further into the filth, then strutted away on tiptoe.
Margarita smiled bitterly.
Wasn’t she going to die soon anyway?
Her right arm had gone numb again. Without thinking, she switched the rag to her left hand and kept working.
---
That night, Margarita helped Casey change clothes.
As she adjusted the gown, Casey suddenly spoke. "Sis, do you remember? I used to be the one helping you—just like this. I was your little flower girl, watching you put on that expensive white wedding dress."
Margarita’s fingers stilled for a brief second.
"Back then, I kept wondering—why were you born with everything while I could only watch from the sidelines?"
Her voice was soft, almost wistful, but an unmistakable bitterness seeped through.
"Why would a man as perfect as Wade love someone as dull as you? Why wasn’t it me? I’m younger. I’m prettier. I should have been the one he wanted."
Margarita said nothing. She only continued fastening Casey's gown, adjusting the fabric in silent surrender.
"You know, when you disappeared, Wade was devastated." Casey’s tone grew quieter, her dissatisfaction bubbling beneath the surface. "I took care of him. I saw him fall apart. I never thought he could cry like that—for you."
She let out a soft, humorless laugh.
"So I wondered... What if I could take your place? What if I could carve my way into his heart?"
Margarita felt her breath hitch.
"And I almost did."
Casey’s voice turned sharp, trembling with barely concealed rage. "I was so close. Then you come back. You ruined everything! Why did you come back after prison? Why couldn’t you just disappear?!"
Margarita had always seen Casey as a younger sister. She never imagined that all this time, beneath the affection and smiles, she had been harboring such deep resentment.
But what did it matter now?
She was already dying.
Casey suddenly raised her wrist and yanked at her charm bracelet, snapping the string. The beads scattered across the floor.
Then— "PAH!"
A sharp slap rang through the room.
Margarita barely had time to react before Casey staggered back, clutching her cheek. A vivid red palm print bloomed across her skin.
Her eyes welled with tears, her voice trembling. "Sis… why did you hit me?"
Margarita froze.
She hadn't even moved.
Before she could utter a single word, the door suddenly burst open.
