They didn’t know she had smashed my father’s most prized collectible, injected glue into my mother’s skincare, and keyed my brother’s new car—
Then turned around and blamed it all on me.
She tore up my homework, jabbed holes in my skin with a compass, and led classmates to corner and humiliate me in the restroom.
I had explained, cried, and raged.
All I ever got in return was harsher scolding and deeper disgust.
I began to doubt myself—maybe I really wasn’t good enough, maybe that’s why they didn’t like me.
I reflected, tried harder to please every single one of them, even Olivia, who had harmed me countless times.
But in their eyes, my efforts looked like guilt after doing something wrong.
That only encouraged Olivia to torment me even more.
Even after I was forced to move out of the Bennett home, she didn’t let me go.
She came to my apartment, cursed and beat me, then, her face twisted with malice, lit the place on fire.
“Only when you’re dead will Mom, Dad, Ethan, and the title of Bennett heiress truly belong to me!”
Once again, the agony of the flames and the despair of dying engulfed me.
Hatred surged in my chest, and before I could hold it back, I coughed up blood.
My mother and Ethan stepped back, holding Olivia protectively, their faces full of disgust.
“How disgusting,” my mother spat.
Olivia’s eyes filled with tears as she asked timidly,
“Mom, now that my sister’s back… will you still want me?”
My mother pulled her into her arms and soothed her gently—
“Olivia’s such a good girl. How could Mom ever give you up?”
Ethan Bennett ruffled her hair in agreement.
“In my eyes, Olivia is my only sister!”
Then he kicked me and threatened,
“If you don’t apologize to Olivia, you can forget about stepping foot in the Bennett home!”
In this life, I couldn’t care less about that so-called life-or-death family bond.
And I refuse to be the spineless Madison Clark I once was.
Whoever crosses me will get it back double.
I shot Ethan a fierce glare and sneered,
“Is that a tumor sitting on your neck?”
“If I really wanted her dead, I’d stab her with a knife—not just let her scrape her knee.”
All three of them stared, wide-eyed, stunned.
Leaning on the bedframe, I forced myself to stand.
“Let me clear something up—you’ve misunderstood. I’m not here to ‘reunite with family.’ I’m here to cut ties.”