Chapter 4

Freya's POV

Lena's face instantly turned deathly pale. The happy smile that had been on her face just moments ago froze completely.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the big screen, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

The next second, her emotions completely collapsed.

She suddenly shoved Blake away and pounded her fists against her legs covered by the blanket, crying out in heartbreak: "I don't want to watch! I don't want to watch! Turn it off! Turn it off now!"

Her cries were shrill and desperate, sounding especially jarring in the otherwise lively and festive villa.

The guests around were all stunned. Whispers rose and fell - some people took out their phones to secretly take photos, some whispered to each other, and others looked at Lena's legs with sympathy in their eyes.

I knew that to protect her, Blake had long ago locked away everything related to her dancing - photos, videos, ballet shoes. He even forbade anyone from mentioning it, afraid of touching her sore spot.

But now, these images that Blake had so carefully hidden were being displayed right in front of everyone.

What a disaster this must be!

"My legs! My legs! It's all because of you, Freya! All because of you!"

Lena suddenly turned her head, glaring at me viciously as if she wanted to tear me apart alive, her cries growing louder and louder.

"If it weren't for you, if it weren't for your gambling father, how would I have ended up like this? How would I have lost the ability to dance? My ballet dream - you destroyed it all!"

As she cried, she struggled to stand up from the wheelchair, but her legs had no strength at all. She could only twist helplessly, looking both pathetic and crazy.

Blake immediately rushed over and held her tightly, his voice full of heartache and panic as he kept trying to comfort her: "Lena, don't get upset, I'll turn it off right away, right away!"

He turned and roared at the nearby servants: "What are you standing there for? Turn off the screen! Who told you to mess with the playback equipment?"

The servants rushed over in a panic to turn off the screen.

But just then, Aiden the butler suddenly stepped out from the crowd, his face pale, stammering as he spoke.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for everyone present to hear clearly: "Mr. Jenkins, it wasn't the servants who touched it... The USB drive playing the video was only touched by Ms. Stewart..."

This statement was like a bomb, instantly exploding among the crowd.

Everyone's eyes turned to me in unison, and the previous whispers turned into undisguised accusations and curses.

"I knew it was her! It must have been deliberate!"

"How vicious! Knowing Ms. Johnson's legs are disabled, she deliberately played videos of her dancing, just to rub salt in her wounds!"

"Ungrateful wretch! It wasn't enough that she caused Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins' deaths, now she has to torture Ms. Johnson like this - absolutely heartless!"

Those words were like needles, densely piercing into me.

My whole body was shaking, and I unconsciously shook my head.

My voice full of panic and grievance, I desperately tried to explain: "It wasn't me! I didn't do it! Aiden, you're mistaken - I never touched any USB drive! I've been working in the corner the whole time, I never went near the playback equipment!"

I looked at Aiden, my eyes full of pleading, hoping he would remember, hoping he would help clear my name.

But Aiden just turned his head away and said with certainty: "I'm not mistaken. I saw you standing by the playback equipment earlier with my own eyes. You were the only one who touched that USB drive!"

I was so anxious tears were about to fall. I turned to look at Blake.

The person who once promised to protect me for life, the person who once treated me like a princess. My eyes held one last trace of pleading, hoping he would believe me, hoping he could see that I was being framed.

But Blake just held Lena, staring at me with cold eyes.

There was no trust in his gaze, no hesitation - only fury and disgust.

Lena leaned in his arms, crying while saying brokenly: "Blake, I knew it... I knew she did it on purpose. She just wants to humiliate me in public, she just wants to embarrass me!"

"Lena, I have no reason to do that, I really don't!" I explained weakly.

"Enough, stop talking!"

Blake suddenly shouted.

He let go of Lena and walked toward me step by step.

His tall figure radiated a suffocating sense of oppression.

His eyes were cold as ice, making my whole body feel frozen.

I instinctively backed away, but behind me was the cold wall - I had nowhere left to retreat.

"Freya."

His voice was low and hoarse: "I warned you not to wrong Lena in any way, not to let her suffer even the slightest grievance. And what do you do? You deliberately expose her wounds, deliberately make her suffer like this."

"I swear I didn't! Blake, believe me, it really wasn't me!"

I cried as I explained, tears blurring my vision.

"Isn't it possible this is all a trap to frame me?!"

"A trap? Frame you?" Blake laughed coldly.

"Lena is in so much pain, and you're saying she's framing you? Freya, what is your heart made of? So vicious!"

He turned to look at Lena, still crying out, and the heartache in his eyes instantly replaced all reason.

Gritting his teeth, he said to me word by word: "You like exposing her wounds? You want to make her suffer? Then I'll let you experience everything she's been through. Let you also know what it's like to not be able to walk, to be gossiped about!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned around.

He grabbed the solid wood chair from the nearby table, gripping it tightly with both hands, and charged toward me.

I was so scared my whole body went rigid - I couldn't even scream.

I could only watch helplessly as that heavy chair came crashing down toward my legs.

"Bang!"

A dull thud - the chair slammed hard into my knees.

Piercing, bone-deep pain instantly spread through me, as if my bones had been shattered.

My whole body convulsed violently, my legs gave way, and I collapsed heavily to the ground.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through my servant's uniform, and my vision went dark in waves.

All I could hear in my ears was my own agonized cry for help.

"Ah! It hurts... it hurts so much..."

I curled up on the ground, clutching my legs tightly with both hands, my body shaking uncontrollably.

The pain from my knees grew more and more intense, as if my bones were being crushed alive.

But Blake's cold gaze was even more devastating than the physical pain.

Blake watched me curled up in agony, without a trace of pity in his eyes.

Only the satisfaction of revenge.

He threw down the chair and coldly ordered the nearby servants: "Drag her away and lock her in the storage room. Don't get her a doctor, don't give her water or food. Just let her stay in there and reflect properly, let her really experience what Lena has suffered!"