Chapter 3

Florenne's POV

"You scheming, crazy bitch. Watching Celeste slit her wrists makes you happy, doesn't it?" Joren's handsome face was twisted with rage, his spit practically flying into my face. "You leaked the news to the media, didn't you? Ruin her reputation, and then you can legally take Dottie away?"

I opened my mouth, forcing sound out of mythroat. "I only found out... yesterday... that my daughter was still alive!"

"Still acting?" Joren tightened his grip, slamming my head against the wall again. "You've been a manipulative liar since you were a kid! Let me warn you, stay away from Dottie. Don't infect her with your toxicity. Having Celeste as a mother is the luckiest thing that could ever happen to her!"

I suddenly stopped struggling, a chilling smile pulling at my bloody lips. I fumbled for the phone in my pocket, lit the screen, and shoved it right in his face.

On the screen, four men were tearing at my clothes on the club sofa; the video clipped to the next room, showing Joren holding a glass of champagne, cutting a birthday cake with Ezra and Celeste.

I stared dead into his eyes, tears streaming down my face. "For five years, I worked the most degrading jobs day and night just to pay for your surgery! Why would you do this to me?"

Joren glanced at the screen, without a single trace of guilt in his eyes. He actually laughed. "Those were just hired actors to teach you a lesson." He reached out and patted my scarred cheek, his tone harsh. "Who told you to bully Celeste back then? You suffer a little bit and you blow everything out of proportion!"

Before I could fight back, he grabbed me by my long hair and dragged me out of the guest room to the first-floor hall like a dead dog.

"Get over there and apologize to Celeste!"

My knees slammed into the sharp edge of the stairs with a dull thud, and I was thrown onto the living room rug like a piece of trash.

"You're a bad person! Don't bully my mommy!"

Dottie spread her arms, guarding the pale-faced Celeste like an angry little beast. Her bright blue eyes were full of hatred for me.

Ignoring the agonizing pain tearing through my body, I stumbled and crawled toward her, a trembling hand reaching out. "Dottie... no, I didn't bully her. I'm your mother... I'm the one who gave birth to you..."

"Shut up!" Ezra took a large step forward and kicked me hard in the chest.

With the sickening crack of a broken rib, I flew backward and crashed heavily into the corner of the coffee table. A mouthful of blood surged into my throat.

He looked disgusted as he took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his dress shoes. "If you want to die, I'll grant your wish right now. Don't dirty my daughter's ears with your disgusting lies."

Dottie began to wail, but not for me. She pointed at me as I laid in a pool of blood and screamed, "Liar! An ugly, evil monster like you could never be my mommy! You did something bad, so you have to apologize! Apologize to my mommy right now!"

I laid on the floor, watching the daughter I had risked my life to birth defend the woman who ruined me with everything she had.

Celeste leaned back on the sofa, looking down at me from above. In the blind spot of everyone else's vision, a flash of unconcealed triumph and mockery passed through her usually pathetic, teary eyes.

The next second, her face drastically changed. She clutched at the fabric over her chest and started gasping heavily.

"Ezra... I feel terrible... I can't breathe..." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she slumped downward weakly. "Stop pressuring Florenne... It's all my fault. I shouldn't have taken the Cassidy daughter's place... She has every right to hate me..."

"Celeste!"

"Hold on, baby! Where's the doctor? Call an ambulance!"

Ezra scooped Celeste into his arms and sprinted out the door.

As he ran past me, he stopped for a split second. "The liver transplant is tomorrow morning. Florenne, you better be at the hospital on time." His voice was colder than ice. "If anything goes wrong with this surgery, I'll sell you back to the club and make sure ten men take turns wiping the floor with you every day. And you'll never see Dottie again!"

The frantic footsteps faded away, leaving me completely alone in the massive, empty living room.

I leaned against the wall, inching myself up off the floor. Dragging my numb right leg, leaving bloody footprints behind with every step, I crawled back to that freezing guest room.

The moment the door closed, I slid down the wood panel to the floor. I had no strength left to move a single inch.

Night fell, and then dawn broke—the morning of the last day of my life.

I stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering: if Celeste didn't exist, would I still be the carefree daughter of the Cassidy family? Would I still be eating the cookies my mother baked, listening to my father and brother call me by my nickname? Would my own flesh and blood, Dottie, be snuggled in my arms, sweetly calling me Mommy?

When they finally see the whole truth—my arrogant parents, my cold-blooded brother, and the husband who hates my guts—will they regret it? Will they cry for me?

I guess I'll never live to see that day.

A final tear slipped past the scars by my eye.

The faint beating in my chest, finally, stopped.