“Look at Sophie—she’s bleeding so much! If she dies, I won’t live either!”

Fueled by her cries, my father’s strikes grew even heavier.

My body was battered, my lips bleeding from how tightly I’d bitten them, but still I refused to fall.

Nestled in my mother’s arms, Sophie weakly murmured:

“Please, stop… I know my sister didn’t mean it.”

Her pitiful plea only stoked my father’s fury further.

He hurled the belt aside and pointed his finger at me, cursing:

“Look at Sophie—hurt like this, yet she’s still pleading for you. And you? You heartless beast, do you even have a shred of conscience left?”

Panting heavily, his chest heaved with rage.

“She can’t stay in this house any longer. She’ll be the death of Sophie.”

As if making a grave decision, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Hello? Mr. Dawson?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“About the marriage we discussed—my daughter’s marriage. I agree.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll have her married off.”

My phone and laptop were confiscated, and I was locked in the cold, pitch-black basement—just as icy as my heart.

They weren’t entirely devoid of humanity; they summoned the family doctor to treat my wounds.

He had watched me grow up.

“Miss… you—”

He wanted to say something but didn’t dare. After hastily tending to my injuries, he left.

As soon as he was gone, my parents entered with Sophie trailing behind them.

There wasn’t a trace of pity on their faces.

“Until you learn obedience, everything you own will be managed by Sophie,” my father ordered coldly.

My mother tossed a box in front of me.

“Your passport, ID, bank cards—everything. Hand them over.”

Sophie stood behind them. They couldn’t see it, but I could—the triumphant smile tugging at her lips.

I didn’t resist.

I knew resistance would only invite harsher cruelty.

One by one, I placed every document and card into the box.

Sophie gleefully snatched it up, opened my wallet, and pulled out all the cash, stuffing it into her own pocket right before my eyes.

“Thanks, sister.” Her voice dripped with mock sweetness.

“Good.” My mother nodded with satisfaction, then suddenly seemed to recall something. She pulled out a folder from her bag and tossed it at me.

“Oh, right. One more thing.”

I glanced down. It was a marriage contract.

The groom’s name was Robert Dawson.