Chapter 2 2
Flashback — Two weeks ago…
...
BAM!
The door slammed open so hard it crashed against the wall.
“Anastasya.”
Helen’s voice cut through the air—sharp and cold.
Anastasya froze the moment she stepped into her room. She had just come home from work, her body still heavy with exhaustion, her bag barely slipping off her shoulder.
Her heart sank instantly.
“M–Mother…?” Her voice trembled.
Helen stepped closer, the sound of her heels slow and deliberate against the floor.
“Don’t play dumb.” Her eyes narrowed. “Money went missing from my room.”
Anastasya blinked, confusion flashing across her face as she tried to process the accusation.
“I—I didn’t take anything. I just got home…”
SLAP!
The sound cracked through the room.
Her head snapped to the side from the force, her body losing balance before collapsing onto the floor. Pain spread across her cheek, hot and stinging, while a sharp ringing filled her ears and blurred her vision.
For a moment, everything went silent.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze—
and met Helen’s eyes.
Cold, sharp, and filled with disgust.
“Shut up, you bitch,” Helen spat, her lips curling in disdain. “You always bring bad luck wherever you go. Of course you’re lying. Who else would steal in this house if not you?”
Each word landed like a blade—not loud, but precise.
Anastasya’s fingers trembled weakly against the floor.
“I don’t care about your excuses,” Helen snapped. “Give me back the money you stole. Now.”
“B… but I didn’t…” Her voice barely came out, fragile and uneven.
Her head slowly lowered as something deep inside her chest began to tighten.
It always happened like this—
every time someone mentioned her parents.
Her breathing faltered, catching halfway as if the air refused to stay inside her lungs. Then her body began to shake—slowly at first, almost unnoticeable, before it spiraled out of control.
“Hah… h—haah…”
Her chest constricted painfully, as if something invisible was crushing her from within.
Helen’s words were cruel.
But Anastasya didn’t even have the strength to hate her.
Because somewhere deep down… she believed them.
Her mother died the moment she was born, and her father years later—
and somehow, it was always her fault.
“ANASTASYA!! DID YOU HEAR ME?! RETURN THE MONEY YOU STOLE FROM ME!”
Helen’s voice shattered through her thoughts.
Anastasya flinched violently.
“H—h…”
She forced her body to move.
Slowly, shakily, she pushed herself up and reached for her bag.
Her hands trembled so badly she almost couldn’t open it.
Inside... was her salary.
The money she had just earned after weeks of exhausting work.
And Helen knew that.
That was why this was happening.
Her fingers paused for a brief second—
then she pulled out the envelope and held it out.
Helen snatched the envelope from Anastasya’s trembling hand without hesitation.
The force made Anastasya’s fingers jerk slightly, as if even that small connection had been torn away too quickly.
Helen didn’t even look at her.
She simply turned—
and walked toward the door.
Like nothing had happened.
Like she hadn’t just crushed someone who was barely holding herself together.
But just before she stepped out—she stopped.
Slowly, she turned her head.
Her gaze fell on Anastasya again, who was still kneeling weakly on the floor.
“You should be grateful, Anastasya.”
Helen’s voice softened.
“I’m not kicking you out.”
Anastasya’s fingers curled weakly against the floor.
“Remember this… you don’t deserve to live.”
The words sank deeper because they were quiet.
“After your father died… you should have ended your life.”
Something inside her froze.
“But I’m kind,” Helen continued with a faint laugh. “I’m giving you a purpose.”
A purpose.
The word twisted painfully in her mind.
“You live to work. To earn.” Helen’s smile widened.
“And everything you have… belongs to me.”
Anastasya’s chest tightened.
“You don’t deserve happiness. People like you only bring misfortune.”
A whisper... cold and sharp.
“And yet… I still let you live.”
“So remember my kindness.”
BANG!
The door slammed shut.
Silence fell instantly.
Anastasya didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
For a moment... it was as if her body had completely shut down.
Then suddenly...
“Aaah—!”
Her body collapsed forward as her hand shot to her chest, gripping it tightly—too tightly, as if she was trying to hold something from breaking apart inside.
Her breathing shattered into uneven gasps.
“Hah… hah… h—hah…”
Air came in short, painful bursts that never felt enough. Her chest burned, tightening with every breath, while her fingers curled into her clothes, clutching the fabric as if it could somehow anchor her back to reality.
Tears streamed down her face, silent and endless.
She bit her lower lip hard—hard enough to taste blood.
She couldn’t let Helen hear her.
She couldn’t.
Her shoulders trembled violently as her vision blurred, her thoughts tangling into something she couldn’t escape.
“I… I’m…” Her voice broke, barely audible.
“I’m a freak…”
Her fingers tightened.
“I’m worthless…”
Her nails pressed deeper into her chest.
“I deserve this…”
The words came out slowly—but not forced.
They sounded natural.
As if they had been repeated too many times… until they became truth.
...
Outside the room, laughter echoed faintly down the hallway.
“Stupid girl.” Helen’s voice carried a hint of amusement as she walked toward the living room. “She reacts every time I mention her parents. So easy to control.”
She let out a satisfied laugh, completely at ease.
“Sixteen years… and now she’s completely mine.”
A pause.
“A perfect money-making machine.”
Her lips curled slightly.
“It wasn’t a waste marrying that useless man.”
...
“Mom, can you give me some money? I want to go out with my friends.”
The sharpness in Helen’s expression disappeared almost instantly.
As if it had never been there.
She turned toward the voice, and her face softened into a warm smile.
“My dear,” she said gently.
Vexia walked over and slipped her arms around her mother, resting her head against her shoulder in a spoiled, affectionate gesture.
Helen chuckled softly, her hand moving to stroke her daughter’s hair.
Without hesitation, she opened the envelope she had just taken from Anastasya.
She pulled out several bills and placed them into Vexia’s hand.
“Here. Have fun with your friends. Don’t come home too late, alright?”
Her tone was filled with care.
With warmth.
With a kind of love Anastasya had never once received.
“Okay, Mom~”
Vexia smiled brightly, pressing a quick kiss to her mother’s cheek before turning and rushing out of the house.
...
Outside, a sleek car was already waiting near the gate.
Vexia’s steps quickened.
“Babee~”
She slipped into the passenger seat with ease, her arms immediately wrapping around the man inside.
“Did you miss me?”
Damian stiffened slightly, his eyes darting toward the house before he quickly started the engine.
“Vexia, what are you doing?” he muttered under his breath. “What if Ana sees us?”
The car pulled away from the curb, the silence inside it tightening by the second.
“Huh?”
Vexia pulled back, her expression shifting instantly.
Annoyance replaced sweetness.
“So what if she sees?” she said sharply, crossing her arms. “She’s the one who refuses to satisfy you, isn’t she?”
Her gaze locked onto him. “I’m the one who’s been doing that all this time.”
Damian’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.
His jaw stiffened.
“So what am I to you?” Vexia’s voice dropped.
“A secret?”
Silence settled between them—heavy, suffocating, pressing against the walls of the car.
“When are you going to break up with her?”
Damian exhaled slowly. “It’s not time yet,” he said. “Just… be patient.”
“I’ll end things with Ana. I promise.”
For a moment—
Vexia studied him.
Then... her expression softened.
She leaned closer, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm.
“Good,” she murmured.
Her voice dipped into something softer—more intimate, almost dangerous.
“Then tonight…” She leaned closer to his ear, her breath warm against his skin.
“I’ll make sure you don’t even think about her.”
A quiet laugh followed.
From the very beginning... she was the one who pulled him in.
And Damian let it happen.
“Hm.” A faint smirk formed on his lips.
There was something about Vexia—something bold, something unrestrained—
that Anastasya had never been.
And never would be.
...
The car sped toward the hotel, and when they arrived at the hotel room...
Damian stepped closer, slow and deliberate, his hand sliding to her waist as he pulled her in.
But just as his lips were about to meet hers...
Vexia lifted a finger and pressed it gently against his lips.
Stopping him.
“Babe…” Her voice was soft. Almost teasing.
“You should take a shower first.” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
“Don’t rush.”
“Alright,” he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly across her lips before stepping back.
“But don’t make me wait too long.”
Then he turned and walked into the bathroom.
The sound of running water followed soon after.
...
The moment the door clicked shut, the atmosphere changed.
Vexia’s expression dropped.
The softness disappeared.
Her lips slowly curved into a smirk.
“So you still don’t want to leave her…” she muttered under her breath.
Her gaze shifted, landing on Damian’s phone. Without hesitation, she picked it up and unlocked it.
Her fingers moved quickly across the screen.
“If you won’t end things with her…” Her smile deepened. “I’ll do it for you.”
A quiet laugh escaped her lips.
“I wonder what kind of face she’ll make… when she sees how badly you want me, Damian.”
Her fingers paused for a second—
then continued typing.
...
“Baby, come to Grand Wall Hotel, room 40A. I have a surprise for you.”
“It’s your 20th birthday in an hour, right?”
“I want to celebrate it exactly at midnight.”
“So come straight to the room, okay, baby?”
...
She pressed send.
Then, deleted the message immediately.
As if it had never existed.
She placed the phone back exactly where it had been.
Perfectly aligned.
No trace left behind.
...
Far from the hotel...
Inside Anastasya’s room, the silence lingered.
Anastasya sat on the floor, her back resting against the side of the bed. Her breathing had calmed, but the tightness in her chest hadn’t fully gone away.
It never really did.
For a while, she just stayed there, staring blankly at nothing.
Then... her phone vibrated beside her.
She flinched slightly before picking it up, her fingers still a little unsteady.
When she saw the name on the screen, her eyes softened almost instinctively.
“Damian…”
She opened the message.
Her gaze moved quietly across the words.
Her birthday.
She had forgotten about it completely.
For a moment, she just stared at the screen, her grip on the phone tightening slightly.
“He remembered…”
The words came out softly, almost like she didn’t mean to say them out loud.
Her chest felt strange.
Still tight—but not in the same way as before.
She glanced at the clock.
It was late.
She should rest.
She had work tomorrow.
Her body still felt weak, and her head hadn’t fully stopped aching.
But… she lowered her gaze slightly, her fingers brushing against the edge of her dress.
She didn’t refuse.
Because even if she didn’t want to admit it... she didn’t want to lose the only person who had ever stayed.
“…I’ll go.”
She pushed herself up slowly and walked toward the mirror.
Her reflection looked tired.
But she fixed what she could.
Just enough.
Then she opened her closet.
There weren’t many choices.
Her hand stopped at the best dress she owned.
Simple, soft, slightly worn... but still the nicest thing she had.
She changed quietly, smoothing the fabric down with her hands before glancing at herself one more time.
“…It’s fine.”
She didn’t need to look perfect, she just needed to show up.
...
The house was quiet when she stepped outside.
Her steps were steady, even if her thoughts weren’t.
She didn’t know why she felt uneasy—
but she kept walking.
...
Not far from there, a black car slowed to a stop.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense.
“…That’s all, Boss.”
The report ended, but the man in the back seat didn’t respond immediately.
Alexander De Graham remained silent, his gaze fixed ahead—until something caught his attention.
At first glance, there was nothing unusual.
Just a girl walking alone at night.
And yet… something about her felt off.
No.
Not off.
Unfamiliar.
His eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze followed her figure, unblinking.
A subtle tension formed in his chest—faint, but impossible to ignore.
“Who is she?”
His gaze didn’t move.
As if letting her disappear into the dark…
was not an option.
