Chapter 2

Florenne's POV

"Listen closely, Florenne. If you don't give your liver to Celeste, you will never see Dottie for the rest of your life."

The agonizing pain in my ribs made my entire body spasm, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the panic in my heart.

I had to see my daughter.

The taste of blood rose in my throat. I swallowed it down along with my hatred, making my voice tremble just the right amount: "I promise... let go of me. I'll do it, but let me see Dottie first."

Ezra looked down at me and scoffed. "Smart choice. Give up that liver, and we can all have some peace."

Before he finished speaking, the phone in his pocket rang violently.

He glanced at the screen and answered, his face instantly turning pale. "Butler Alfred? Say that again. What happened to Celeste? She slit her wrists?!"

The air in the hospital room vanished. Alistair and Madora's faces turned ashen.

"What the hell is going on!" Joren grabbed him by the collar.

"The news leaked." The veins on Ezra's forehead bulged. "The media found out Celeste isn't a blood relative of the Cassidy family. They said she ruined our marriage and stole Florenne's child. She couldn't handle it and slit her wrists in the bathroom. Good thing they found her in time."

"Those damn reporters! Let's go!" Alistair shoved the door open and rushed out.

Everyone panicked. Joren turned around, grabbed my hair, and dragged me off the floor like a dirty rag. "You're coming back to the Manor with us."

I was shoved into the car heading to the Hawthorne Manor.

That was the home I lived in five years ago—the home I had missed for five whole years.

Walking through the entryway, I saw Celeste lying weakly on the luxurious living room sofa, her wrist wrapped in thick bandages.

Madora threw herself at Celeste, holding her tight and crying. Alistair stroked her long hair over and over. "Baby, Daddy will take care of the news. You will always be the Cassidy family's proudest daughter."

Ezra knelt on the rug, tightly grasping her uninjured hand. "I swear I'll tear whoever leaked this to pieces. Celeste, you can't leave me and Dottie behind."

Beyond this sickening display of affection, my eyes were locked on the staircase.

A little girl around five years old stood by the railing, holding a teddy bear. Blonde curls, bright blue eyes—the same eyes I had before my face was ruined.

Dottie. My daughter.

I dragged my heavy legs and walked toward her, step by step.

"Dottie..." I tried to soften my voice and reached out to her.

She looked up warily, her eyes landing on my unmasked face—a face covered in twisted burn scars.

Her pupils shrank. The teddy bear dropped to the floor.

"Ah——!"

Dottie screamed and fell back, scrambling away on her hands and knees, huge tears rolling down her face. "Go away! Don't touch me! Monster! Mommy, save me—"

"What the hell are you doing!"

Ezra charged over like an enraged lion and shoved me away.

I hit the sharp corner of the stairs hard, my vision going dark.

He pulled the crying Dottie into his arms, turning back to glare at me with a look that wanted me dead. "Florenne, your disgusting face scared my daughter. Get in the guest room. Don't come out until you're called."

The next day, in the guest room.

I didn't even have the strength to stand up.

As I lay on the freezing floor, my phone screen suddenly lit up. It was an anonymous text message with a video attached.

The moment I clicked it, the memory of that night two years ago dragged me right back to hell.

A dim private room. Four men pinning me to the sofa. The sound of my uniform tearing, the sound of slaps, and my own screams.

I always thought it was an accident at the club. I thought the soundproofing was just too good, and no one heard me begging for help.

Then, the camera angle shifted.

The person recording chuckled softly, backed out of the room, and pushed open the door to the VIP room right next door.

The room was filled with roses and warm light.

Ezra and Joren sat on either side of Celeste. A three-tier custom cake sat on the table.

"Ezra, it's so noisy next door," Celeste whined.

Joren took a sip of champagne and raised an eyebrow. "Just a few dogs in heat. My dear sister's face might be ruined, but her body isn't bad. Those old men seem to like her."

Ezra cut a piece of cake and brought it to her lips, spoiling her without limits. "Don't mind that ugly freak, just let her learn her lesson. Here, open up."

The video ended there.

The blackened screen reflected my skeletal face.

That night, as I was being beaten and pinned down, I scratched at that locked door like a madwoman, thinking someone would eventually come save me.

But my husband and my own brother were right on the other side of the wall. Listening to my screams, drinking champagne, and using my body as a joke to entertain that fake bitch.

It wasn't just blood rising in my stomach. I lunged for the edge of the bed and vomited a mouthful of dark, blackish-red blood.

The blood splattered on the white rug, glaring and stark.

I wiped my mouth and slid down the bedframe to the floor. I only had one day left anyway. I might as well just sit in this empty guest room and wait to die.

I closed my eyes.

The door was kicked open.

The next second, a hand clamped down hard on the back of my neck and hauled me up off the ground.