A man in his fifties who had clawed his way to wealth through shady dealings—known throughout elite circles for his twisted abuse of women. His two previous wives, one had gone insane, the other had died.
“Sign it.” My mother threw a pen in front of me.
My heart turned to ice.
“Why?”
My voice cracked.
“Why?”
She chuckled as if I had told the funniest joke.
“Mr. Dawson’s projects will pave the way for Sophie’s future company. You marrying him is your final contribution to this family, to your sister. You should feel honored.”
For Sophie, I was to sacrifice my entire life.
So this was my biological mother.
“I won’t sign.”
Each word ground out between my teeth.
Her face instantly darkened.
At that moment, the old butler, Mark Thompson, walked past carrying a tea tray.
Mark!
He had known me since I was a child. Surely, he would help me.
I cast him a desperate look for help.
But my father caught it, sneering.
“Mark, I heard your grandson is applying to one of the top schools owned by our group.”
Mark’s body trembled. The color drained from his face.
“Sir, Madam—I saw nothing.”
His hands shook so badly he almost dropped the tray.
“I’ll be going now.” He turned and fled.
My last hope shattered.
“Sister, why are you so stubborn?” Sophie mocked, walking over gleefully. “Uncle and Aunt are doing this for your own good.”
She picked up a crystal trophy from the table—the one I had received three years ago when I secured my first multimillion-dollar investment. The inscription read Presented to Sophia Bennett.
“This is beautiful,” she mused, turning it in her hands.
“Such a shame—you’ll be married off soon.”
Crash—
The crystal trophy slipped from Sophie’s hand and shattered on the ground.
“Oh no, sorry, sister, my hand slipped.”
She laughed, cruel yet innocent.
“But it doesn’t matter. You won’t be needing it anymore.”
Her actions completely ignited my fury.
I leapt to my feet and tore the contract in half.
“I will not sign it!”
I shouted at my parents.
“Even if you beat me to death today, I will never sign!”
“Courting death!”
My father, enraged beyond reason, ripped off his belt again and swung it at me with no restraint this time.
The belt cracked through the air before slashing into me.
The wounds that had just been treated split open again, leaving raw flesh exposed and bleeding.
I curled up on the floor, my consciousness blurring from the pain.
“Stop!”
My mother suddenly spoke.