Such an absurd suggestion, and Julia actually nodded in agreement.
"Neil always was the clever one."
I laughed—wild, unhinged laughter that brought tears streaming down my face.
"Julia, I was so wrong about you. You and Neil truly are two of a kind—a match made in hell!"
Julia's brow furrowed, her expression turning cold.
"Joseph, if you're angry and want to lash out at me, fine. But why do you have to attack Neil at every turn? He's done nothing but think of you. Don't be so ungrateful!"
"Neil's right—maybe this is a way to protect you. Besides, you owe him this!"
"Don't worry. Even if your body is covered in scars, I won't find you repulsive. The moment that Gilbert girl dies, I'll come get you myself!"
The words had barely left her mouth when an entire basin of scalding water was poured down my back.
The pain was beyond anything I'd ever known—searing, all-consuming. I couldn't move, couldn't escape. My body convulsed uncontrollably, tremors wracking through me.
My father rushed in, his voice urgent.
"Enough of this nonsense! The Gilberts have sent someone. Their young lady is fading fast—doctors say three days at most. Her dying wish is to marry and consummate the marriage before she goes, so she won't be a lonely ghost."
"The Gilberts want to take him now. They're holding a small ceremony at home so Miss Gilbert can die without regrets!"
When the butler tried to change my clothes, he froze at the sight of my back—a grotesque landscape of blisters that made him afraid to touch me, terrified of breaking them and causing infection.
When my father heard, there was no concern in his voice. Only reproach.
"I'm the one who sent Neil to get the sacred Madonna portrait from you. I never imagined you'd be so difficult about it—even going so far as to falsely accuse him. You never learn!"
I turned to look at him, hatred burning so fiercely I thought it might consume me.
So he was the one who told Neil about the painting.
"Don't look at me like that. What, are you regretting this now? Did you think getting yourself injured would get you out of the marriage?"
"Let me make this clear: the Gilberts have promised a generous gift once this is done. Even a small project from them would cover years of our company's profits. I've raised you all these years—it's time you repaid me. You will marry into that family today!"
My father told the butler not to bother with my injuries—just put me in the red ceremonial suit.
Red on red. No one would notice. As long as it looked presentable.
The blisters on my back burst one by one as the fabric dragged across them. The pain was so intense I could barely stand upright.
By the time I got into the car, the back of my suit was soaked through with blood.
Through the window, I saw Julia mouthing words at me silently:
"Joseph, hang in there. I'll come for you."
Three days later, Julia received word that someone in the Gilbert family had died.
She counted the days. It had to be the little princess of the capital's elite circles.
She rushed to the funeral home with Neil to pay her respects.
But when she approached to view the body, Julia froze.
The person lying in the casket wasn't some young heiress.
It was an elderly man with a full head of white hair.
