Chapter 3 Get Lost

She grabbed Violet's throat, hating her, wanting to destroy her. "You animals. All of you go to hell."

She lunged with everything she had left, but Violet was ready. The moment she moved, two burly men burst in and yanked her away.

A sharp crack—her arm twisted and broke. Pain seared through her. The two men held her tight, wrenching her injured arm as she stumbled.

Violet wore a triumphant smile. "Amelia, calm down. It's just a child. With your talent for seducing men, you can have plenty more. Just be more careful next time you sneak around. Don't let Benjamin find out, or things will end even worse for all of you."

"Bitch."

She lunged again like a madwoman. One of the men freed a hand, wrapped it around her waist, and stomped down on her other ankle. It snapped.

"Ahhh—"

The pain nearly knocked her out. Blood ran down both legs, mixing with the postpartum discharge, stinking. She was worse off than a stray animal.

The sight excited Violet even more. She looked Amelia up and down, her gaze crawling over her skin, making her want to crawl out of herself. "Look at yourself. No better than someone who's lost their mind. That last treatment didn't work. You'll have to go back for more therapy."

The mental hospital.

Shattered memories flooded back—electric shocks, confinement. Blurry images snapped into focus. She tried to run, but her broken legs wouldn't move. "Never."

She would never go back to that hell.

Violet ignored her resistance, mocking her. "When you get out, those beasts should still be alive. You'd better pray they last until then, or you won't even get to see what's left of your child. I also heard your son's organs were transplanted into quite a few people. If you're clever enough, you can try to find the recipients. At least that would be some comfort."

"Go to hell... go to hell..."

Her body went rigid. She stared up at Violet, her tongue bleeding from biting down too hard, blood sliding from the corner of her mouth. Hatred consumed her.

Her eyes burned from staring. Regret filled her chest.

If she had known it would come to this, she never would have married Benjamin.

The man she had loved for years, the father of her child, had sold their son's organs and thrown the remains to wild animals. No body left.

They would pay.

She screamed until her throat shredded. "You animals. You'll get what's coming to you. Ahh... ahh..."

The pain made full sentences impossible—only broken cries.

"Really?" Violet said. "But it looks to me like you're the first to suffer."

Violet's face was full of satisfaction. "Amelia, tell me, what terrible things did you do in a past life? Not only couldn't you protect your own child, you even got your mother killed."

She looked up, disbelieving. Her ruined throat wouldn't let her speak—only unclear sounds.

"Looks like you didn't know. Your mother, who'd been unconscious all this time, woke up today. She wanted to come see you. But I told her you'd suffered terribly paying for her medical bills, and I showed her those videos of you getting fucked. She didn't want to be a burden anymore, so she pulled out her own oxygen tube. Can anyone be that stupid? Haha."

"Mom... Mom..."

Tears poured. She couldn't tell if she was crying or laughing bitterly. The figures before her blurred. The whole world flipped upside down. She could almost see the hurt in her adoptive mother Candice's eyes before she died.

"Why... why didn't you let me see her one last time?"

Her throat was shredded. She used every last bit of strength to force the words out. Blood from her mouth spotted the pale floor.

"What good would that do? You'd still have to beg Benjamin for help. Letting her go was mercy."

Violet's face twisted with disgust, her voice ice-cold. "I really didn't expect Candice to hold so many company shares. I could have spared her, but she insisted on transferring all the shares to you. Now your scandals are public, your reputation is ruined, and even in her condition, she still wanted to protect you. Tell me, didn't she deserve it? Don't you deserve it?"

All for shares. Violet had killed Candice.

Putting Benjamin aside, they were family—Violet's father and Amelia's adoptive mother were siblings. She couldn't understand how a heart could be so vicious.

Violet ignored her grief-stricken stare and leaned close to her ear. "For old times' sake, I can take you to see your mother one last time. Before she died, she kept saying your name. Do you want to go?"

She knew it was a trap. But she had no choice. Her son was already gone. She couldn't miss saying goodbye to her mother too.

She nodded, all dignity gone, letting Violet order the men to change her clothes.

The men's eyes were greedy, but she didn't care anymore. Those indecent videos were everywhere. She was past caring what others thought.

She was a broken doll, letting them do what they wanted. A black dress, shoes, exaggerated accessories.

Violet deliberately chose provocative underwear with tiny bells attached. Every piece was meant to mock and humiliate, to make her a laughingstock at Candice's funeral.

She sat in a wheelchair as someone pushed her into the funeral home. Every eye in the room locked onto her.

"Why is she here?"

"Everyone says her mother died because of her. How dare she show up?"

"Why isn't Mr. Moore doing something? Look at what she's wearing. No respect at all."

The exaggerated collar swayed with the wheelchair. The bells jangled harshly in the solemn space—jarring, disrespectful.

She ignored the whispers, looking around frantically, desperate to see Candice one last time.

They pushed her to the front of the casket. Everyone stepped back, keeping their distance. She paid no attention.

"Mom, I'm sorry I'm late."

Her voice was hoarse, rough, barely understandable unless you listened closely. But she believed Candice in the coffin could understand.

Her loved one lay in the cold casket, eyes closed, expression peaceful.

Outsiders thought Candice had died peacefully, but Amelia knew she had died in pain. This mother who had been so proud of her had ended up like this because of her.

"Don't touch her."

Domingo Martinez kicked the wheelchair, his disgust undisguised. "Get out now. Never set foot in the Martinez family again."

"I just came to pay my respects to my mother."

In the past, she would have called him uncle.

"Do you know how she died? Because of you. With you around, the Martinez family will never have peace."

Domingo pointed at the open door. "From today on, you're no longer part of this family. Whether you live or die has nothing to do with us. Get out. Go as far as you can and never come back."