Chapter4 With a violent motion, she yanked down the back of her designer blouse, exposing a large expanse of skin.
Mapped across her back was a network of old scars, crisscrossed like a macabre tapestry.
Everyone gasped, abandoning me to rush toward her in horror.
“Those animals treated me like a slave!” she spat, tears flowing freely now. “If I didn’t scrub the floors perfectly, they’d beat me until I couldn’t stand. I was five years old! Every single day I had to hand-wash their disgusting clothes, mop their filthy floors, prepare their meals—if I dared rest for even a second, the whip would split my skin open!”
“Your precious birth mother?” she snarled, pointing at me with a trembling finger. “She called me a worthless whore! Said I was filthier than the rags I cleaned with! And where were you during all this? Living in MY mansion, gorging yourself on MY inheritance, sleeping in MY custom-made bed! Being waited on hand and foot like the fake princess you are!”
I clutched the jade pendant until my knuckles turned white, my gaze never wavering from hers: “One-sided… accusations… prove… nothing.”
“That’s enough, Willow!” Wes thundered, jumping to his feet.
He rushed to Rosalie’s side, tenderly pulling her shirt back into place and dabbing at her tears with his monogrammed handkerchief.
“The cheating narrative might be unpleasant, but it’s the most efficient solution. Willow, you’ll release a statement tonight admitting your indiscretion and blessing our relationship. That should neutralize the situation.”
His eyes held the same calculated threat they had when he’d dangled my birth parents as bait two days ago.
Message received, loud and clear.
My time was running out.
I could only nod.
