Chapter 2 2

Chapter 2

...

Two Weeks Earlier...

BANG!

"Anastasya! You ungrateful little thief! How dare you steal money from my wallet!" Helen's furious voice exploded through the room as she slammed the bedroom door open with enough force to make the walls shake.

Anastasya had only just returned home from work.

The sudden intrusion made her flinch. Panic instantly filled her face as she looked at her stepmother standing in the doorway, her expression twisted with rage.

"M... Mom?" she stammered, her voice trembling. "I don't understand what you're talking about. I didn't take your money. I just got home, and—"

Smack!

Before she could finish explaining, a hard slap landed across her delicate cheek.

"Ah!"

She cried out in pain.

The force of the blow sent her collapsing onto the floor. As she slowly looked up, she was met with Helen's face, contorted by fury.

"Shut up, you cursed bitch! Of course you're lying. Who else would steal in this house if not you?"

"You shameless, disgusting little brat! You should've died with your mother and father! Someone as cursed as you doesn't deserve to live. You deserve to die and rot like filth!"

"I don't care what excuses you have. Pay back the money you stole from me, damn it!" Helen's shrill voice echoed through the room as though she were a judge delivering a final verdict.

She had already declared Anastasya guilty.

It didn't matter that Anastasya had only just come home from work. It didn't matter that she couldn't possibly have stolen anything.

"Mom... but I didn't..." Anastasya lowered her head slightly.

Her chest tightened. Her entire body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Every time someone brought up her parents, she suffered a panic attack that left her shaking from head to toe, her breathing uneven as a splitting headache took over.

Helen's words were unimaginably cruel.

Yet Anastasya couldn't bring herself to hate her. Her biological mother had died giving birth to her. Years later, her father had died in a car accident while taking her to her university entrance exam. After those tragedies, Helen—who had married her father when Anastasya was only four years old—never stopped calling her a curse.

A bringer of misfortune.

Over the years, Anastasya had begun believing those words herself. She truly believed she had brought nothing but disaster into the lives of everyone around her.

"ANASTASYA!" Helen screamed even louder. "DID YOU HEAR ME?! PAY BACK THE MONEY YOU STOLE!"

Still kneeling on the floor, Anastasya trembled violently.

Not only because of Helen's shouting... But because another panic attack had already taken hold of her.

"Hah..." Her breathing turned ragged.

Her face drained of all color. With trembling legs, she forced herself to stand before walking toward her bag.

She had just received her monthly paycheck from the convenience store where she worked.

Helen knew that.

That was precisely why she had staged this entire accusation.

Her small hands shook uncontrollably as she took out the envelope containing her salary and silently held it out. Her eyes had become dull and unfocused. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribs.

"Hmph."

Helen snatched the envelope from her hand without the slightest hint of guilt. She turned to leave, but before stepping out, she paused in the doorway and glanced back at Anastasya, whose face had gone deathly pale.

"You should be grateful, Anastasya."

"I haven't thrown you out of this house."

"Never forget—you don't deserve to live. After your father died, you should've ended your own life." A cruel smile spread across Helen's lips. "But I was kind enough to give your life a purpose instead."

"You'll work until the day you die."

"You'll hand every penny you earn to me."

"And someone as cursed as you doesn't deserve happiness after bringing death to everyone around you."

"So remember my kindness."

"I gave you a reason to keep living."

Helen left with a satisfied smirk.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind her.

Only then did Anastasya collapse back onto the floor.

"Haaah..." She clutched her chest tightly, struggling to breathe. Tears streamed down her face as she bit down on her lip, desperately trying to keep herself from sobbing loud enough for Helen to hear.

Her pale face... Those sorrow-filled hazel eyes... She looked utterly broken.

"Yes..."

"I'm cursed."

"I'm worthless."

"I deserve to suffer." The words slipped from her trembling lips almost unconsciously. They were no longer just insults. They had become the beliefs she lived by.

Ever since her father married Helen, whenever he was away at work, his wife had abused Anastasya and filled her mind with those poisonous words.

Year after year... Until she had been completely trapped inside her stepmother's manipulation.

With her heart in pieces, Anastasya remained frozen where she was, staring blankly at the floor.

Silently...

She blamed herself once again for being nothing more than a curse.

Meanwhile, Helen walked back to the living room, laughing to herself as she settled onto the couch and turned her attention to the television.

"What an idiot!" she scoffed. "Every time I bring up her parents, she falls apart. It makes her so easy to manipulate! Hahaha!"

"My sixteen years of brainwashing her weren't wasted after all. Now she's nothing more than a money-making machine." She smirked to herself. "Marrying that foolish man was the best investment I ever made."

To Helen, Anastasya had never been family. She was simply a tool, someone to exploit, and someone to break.

For years, Helen had abused her emotionally, crushing her spirit until Anastasya accepted every lie as the truth.

And of course... The accusation about the stolen money had been completely fabricated. Helen had only wanted an excuse to slap Anastasya and tighten the psychological chains she had wrapped around the girl for years. Calling her a thief was simply another way to keep her under control. Another step toward making Anastasya completely obedient.

"Mom, can I have some money? I'm going out with my friends." Just as Helen sat down in the living room, her daughter wrapped her arms around her affectionately.

Xevia; twenty-one years old and currently attending university. She smiled sweetly as she asked her mother for spending money.

Without hesitation, Helen opened the envelope she had just taken from Anastasya and pulled out several bills before handing them to her daughter.

"Here you go, sweetheart."

"Have fun with your friends, and don't stay out too late."

"Thanks, Mom!" Xevia happily accepted the money before hurrying toward the front door.

"I won't come home late!" Helen watched her leave with a warm smile.

The difference between how she treated her biological daughter and how she treated Anastasya couldn't have been more obvious.

She adored Xevia.

For her own daughter... Helen would do anything.

...

The moment Xevia stepped outside the gate, a car waiting across the street caught her eye.

Her face immediately lit up.

"Baby." She hurried over, climbed into the passenger seat, and threw her arms around the young man waiting for her.

"Why did you ask me to pick you up?" the young man asked nervously as he quickly drove away. "What if Ana sees us?"

Damian Farlon; twenty-one years old.

An unmistakable trace of anxiety lingered in his voice.

"Hmph." Xevia pouted. "So what if she does?"

"She's the one who keeps refusing to satisfy you." She leaned closer with a smug smile. "I'm the one who's been giving you everything she won't." Her expression darkened.

"Or do you plan on keeping me as your mistress forever?"

"When are you finally going to break up with Anastasya?" She folded her arms across her chest and looked away, clearly upset.

Damian Farlon was Anastasya's boyfriend. They had been together since her second year of high school. But Anastasya had always been carefull. She had refused to sleep with Damian before marriage, no matter how many times he had tried to persuade her.

Seeing an opportunity, Xevia—who had been attracted to Damian for quite some time—began seducing him whenever she could.

Eventually... Damian gave in. Unable to resist the temptation, he betrayed Anastasya and started an affair with her own stepsister.

"It's not the right time yet, babe." Damian reached over, trying to soothe her. "Just be patient a little longer."

"I promise I'll end things with Ana." His reassurance instantly erased Xevia's irritation.

Turning toward him, she smiled with unmistakable allure.

"All right, then." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "I'll make sure you have an unforgettable night."

From the very beginning, she had been the one who pursued Damian. And ever since their affair had begun, she had never hidden her enthusiasm whenever they were alone together.

"Mmm..." Damian smiled in satisfaction.

That was exactly what he liked about Xevia. She gave him everything Anastasya never would.

The car sped through the city until it finally pulled into the parking lot of a hotel.

The moment they stepped inside their room, Damian eagerly closed the distance between them, intending to kiss Xevia. But before his lips could meet hers... She placed a hand against his chest, stopping him.

A mischievous smile slowly spread across her lips.

"Baby... you should take a shower first." Xevia's voice was soft and teasing. "There's no need to rush."

Damian let out a quiet laugh.

The truth was, he didn't want to wait another second. But whenever Xevia wore that mischievous smile, it always meant she had something special planned for him.

"All right, babe."

He brushed his thumb across her lips before reluctantly heading toward the bathroom, his impatience impossible to hide.

The moment the bathroom door closed behind him, Xevia's playful expression transformed into a calculating smile.

She quickly picked up Damian's phone.

"If you won't break up with Anastasya..."

"I'll do it for you." A quiet laugh escaped her lips. "I can't wait to see Ana's face when she realizes how desperately you want me instead." She unlocked the phone and typed out a message to Anastasya.

'Baby, come to Grand Wall Hotel, Room 40A. I have a surprise for you. Your twentieth birthday is in an hour, isn't it? I want to celebrate it with you the moment the clock strikes twelve. Just come upstairs and let yourself into the room. I'll be waiting.'

After sending the text, she immediately deleted the conversation so Damian wouldn't notice. Then she carefully returned the phone to exactly where it had been. As if nothing had happened.

...

Inside Anastasya's bedroom...

"Huh?" Still trying to calm herself after everything that had happened with Helen, Anastasya heard her phone vibrate.

It was a message from Damian.

As she read it, her eyes drifted to the clock.

Eleven o'clock at night.

"It's almost midnight..."

"I should get some sleep. I have to be up early tomorrow..." She was about to decline, but she hesitated.

Lately, she and Damian had barely spent any time together.

To Anastasya, Damian wasn't just her boyfriend. He was the person she trusted more than anyone else.

After a long moment, she slowly climbed out of bed. She applied a touch of light makeup before changing into the prettiest dress she owned—a soft pastel pink dress patterned with delicate flowers.

Then she quietly left the house. Helen wouldn't care where she went as long as Anastasya had already handed over her salary. So she left without saying a word.

...

At the same time...

Inside a luxurious black sedan, an extraordinarily handsome man sat in silence, his sharp features illuminated by the city lights streaming past the windows.

His icy blue eyes darkened as he listened to the report from the man seated in front — Alexander De Graham. One of the wealthiest men in the country.

The owner of a vast business empire whose companies stretched across countless industries.

To the public, he was an untouchable business tycoon. But behind that flawless reputation lay another identity known only to a select few.

He was the leader of a mafia organization he had built with one purpose — Revenge.

Calm on the surface... Yet carrying an aura so oppressive it was difficult to breathe around him, Alexander stared silently through the window.

Whatever his subordinate was reporting had clearly soured his mood.

The car eventually slowed to a stop before a pedestrian crossing.

And then... Alexander's gaze froze.

Time itself seemed to slow... A young woman was crossing the street ahead of them. She wore a long pastel-pink dress adorned with delicate floral patterns.

The evening breeze gently lifted her soft chestnut waves.

Her face... Beautiful beyond words.

Her eyes... Unlike anything he had ever seen.

For the first time in years... Alexander felt something inside him snap. Heat spread through his body, and his pulse thundered in his ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Who is she?" His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried undeniable authority. His eyes never left the young woman as she disappeared into the crowd.

From the driver's seat, his subordinate instinctively followed Alexander's line of sight.

That single question was enough. He already knew what his boss wanted.

He would find out everything there was to know about that girl.

...

To be continued...