Darcey’s POV
“Apologize,” he said.
Every word was sharp, leaving no room for argument.
“Darcey, apologize to Yasmine,” he ordered.
I froze in place, feeling the blood drain from my body.
I was the one who had been hurt.
Yet I was the one forced to bow.
I forced myself to speak.
“The ring didn’t fit. She was going to put it on me anyway. I just pushed her, and she fell herself!”
“Enough!” Alexis snapped.
His face was dark as iron.
“Are you seriously trying to accuse Yasmine? She’s about to compete for the top spot. How could she possibly hurt herself just to frame you?”
“Or are you just jealous that she’s about to become the ballet company’s lead and want to ruin her?”
I almost laughed at how ridiculous that was.
I would never be jealous of a thief.
“I’m not jealous of someone who’s clearly less capable than me,” I said coldly.
“Darcey!” he roared.
His anger and his blatant defense of Yasmine were impossible to miss.
Even though I’d known all along that his love for me had been an act.
Even so, seeing him protect Yasmine without hesitation, while withholding trust from me, made my chest ache as if it had been ripped open.
Alexis lowered his head toward Yasmine, his voice soft.
“Where does it hurt, Yasmine? Tell me,” he asked.
Yasmine pressed her lips together, speaking quietly.
“My hand hurts a little,” she said.
Her fingertip was only slightly red.
But Alexis immediately turned to me with a stern expression.
“Darcey, this behavior of hurting someone out of jealousy must be punished,” he said.
My heart sank as he pulled a pen from his suit pocket and handed it to Yasmine.
His voice was frighteningly cold.
“Yasmine, poke the finger that hurts on her,” he said.
“Only when she feels the pain will she understand that bullying is wrong.”
I froze, unable to believe what I was hearing.
I turned to leave, but it was too late.
With Alexis’s help, Yasmine caught my wrist, looking hesitant.
The next moment, the pen jabbed toward my ring finger.
But just before it touched me, her hand twisted suddenly.
“Ah!”
The pen plunged straight into the center of my palm.
Pain exploded instantly.
I couldn’t control my scream.
My entire palm was shredded.
Yasmine seemed terrified, letting go and stepping back with tears.
“I’m sorry… I was scared, and my hand shook…” she sobbed.
Alexis clearly didn’t expect this to happen.
There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but Yasmine had already supported me first.
On the surface, it looked like she was helping me.
But from an angle Alexis couldn’t see, her sharp nails dug into the bloody hole in my palm.
Pain ripped through me, leaving me voiceless.
All the hate and anger I’d held back finally exploded.
I swung my hand and slapped Yasmine across the face.
Alexis’s face went pale.
“Darcey! Are you crazy?!” he yelled.
He shoved me hard.
I stumbled and slammed into the glass display case in the jewelry store.
With a crash, the glass shattered instantly.
Sharp fragments cut into my back, arms, and legs, exploding with pain.
Blood soaked my clothes quickly.
I trembled from the pain.
Yasmine’s eyes flashed with anger.
She dove into Alexis’s arms, pretending to be pitiful.
“Alexis… I just wanted to check her wound, but she suddenly hit me…” she said.
“Maybe she’s frustrated from being blind for so long… and took it out on me.”
“I’m fine. But what if she goes crazy at the wedding and hurts someone?”
Alexis’s face darkened completely.
He looked at me as if I were insane.
“Darcey, your mind is twisted,” he said.
“Since you’ve lost control, a psychologist will treat you.”
Yasmine spoke softly.
“Sis still has dances to choreograph. Maybe… bring the doctor home?”
Just like that, they decided my fate.
That day, the psychologist Alexis hired moved into the villa.
The “therapy” was nothing but needles, intimidation, and humiliation.
Any resistance was met with hair-pulling and slaps until I submitted.
The scars I had from my breakdown after losing my sight…
Were treated as sins by the psychologist.
He ground off the skin layer by layer with a file.
The raw flesh burned with pain.
I was sweating cold, pinned down, unable to move.
Until the old scars were covered in fresh blood, leaving a red, blurred mess of skin.
Only in the dance studio, while choreographing, could I escape him.
I practiced with hatred, pushing myself to the limit.
I choreographed dances for Yasmine by day and my own by night.
Only in the bathroom could I secretly contact my lawyer for a moment.
Three days later, I had lost a lot of weight.
The old scars were gone, replaced by countless fresh needle marks and bruises.
Alexis hadn’t come home in days.
Meanwhile, Yasmine’s social media was updated every day.
Trying on wedding dresses, choosing flowers, checking the venue, setting up decorations.
In every photo, Alexis was by her side.
They were brazenly preparing their final revenge, knowing I “couldn’t see.”
Of course, I was preparing, too.
That night, Alexis finally returned.
He stopped in his tracks, clearly surprised at how much weight I had lost in just three days.
A flicker of pity crossed his eyes.
He walked over and held me in his arms.
“Why have you gotten so thin?” he asked.
I said lightly, “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
His body stiffened with concern.
The next moment, he kissed me.
The kiss was soothing, but I resisted with all my strength.
He thought I was sulking and hugged me tighter, helpless.
“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t think he would be so harsh on you,” he said.
He handed me a glass of milk.
“Drink some milk to calm down. Tonight, I’ll be with you, okay?”
Seeing the milk, I realized immediately what he wanted.
He was trying to get that idiot Christoph to “comfort” me in bed for him again.
I refused immediately.
“I’m not feeling well. You don’t need to stay tonight,” I said.
Alexis frowned, clearly thinking I was throwing a tantrum.
He took a sip of the milk. Next thing I knew, he was fucking forcing it into my mouth.
