Invisible Scars
The tension still lingered in the dining room when Ethan walked out, leaving behind the echo of his contempt. Amber remained standing, her breath uneven, though she refused to let her eyes blur with tears. Elena studied her carefully, finding in Amber a deep determination—even if what the girl truly harbored was nothing but raw necessity.
“Don’t be deceived,” Elena finally said, her voice firm. “That man is made of ice, but even ice can break. If you manage to make him yield, my dear, you will never lack anything. I will give you everything you want. Everything, Amber.”
Amber swallowed hard, forcing a smile that crumbled on her lips. Inside, she was trembling. Every word from Ethan had been like a strike, every look a brutal rejection. But she would not give up.
“I’ll try, Mrs. Rhodes,” she whispered. “I won’t quit.”
Elena nodded, a spark of triumph flickering in her eyes.
When Amber returned home that night, the darkness was broken by screams. Her heart dropped as she heard her younger sister’s sobs. She rushed inside to find the scene she feared: her father, drunk, unleashing his fury on the little girl.
“Stop! Don’t hit her again!” Amber shouted, throwing herself between them.
The man turned toward her, bloodshot eyes blazing.
“She’s a useless bitch! Just like you, just like your mother. Where were you? Spreading your legs for men?”
“Joseph, you’re a bastard,” Amber spat through her fear. “But I swear I’ll get my siblings out of this house.”
His face contorted with infernal rage. His daughter had dared to challenge him—and that he would not allow.
The slap landed like a whip, brutal and sharp, knocking Amber against the wall. Blood filled her mouth, the metallic taste mixing with the burning sting tearing across her cheek.
“Amber!” her sister sobbed, trying to reach her.
“Lock yourselves in!” Amber ordered, staggering, her voice breaking. “You know how this goes. Don’t come out.”
A single tear slid down her battered face as her siblings scrambled to hide.
The silence that followed was unbearable. Amber collapsed to the floor, her lip split, her body trembling, while the muffled sobs of her siblings echoed from behind the closed door.
“I’ll do it… even if it kills me,” she swore to herself, clenching her bloodied fists against her chest.
The next morning, she stood before the cracked mirror in her room, trying to cover the bruise with cheap makeup. The purple mark still showed beneath her skin, impossible to hide. She pulled her hair down over one side of her face, took a deep breath, and forced herself to lift her chin.
The contract awaited. Ethan awaited. And though he would never know, she was already fighting for far more than an agreement—she was fighting to survive.
That day she arrived early at the Rhodes mansion, before Ethan had even woken up. Elena wasn’t there; she had gone to the doctor. Forcing herself to appear calm, Amber sat at the dining table, determined to wait.
Firm footsteps echoed on the staircase. Ethan appeared, flawless in a crisp white shirt, his hair neatly combed back. Even with a frown etched into his features, his presence was striking—too handsome to ignore. Against her will, Amber’s heart raced.
At the sight of her, he let out a sarcastic laugh and slammed his briefcase onto the table.
“So, you’ve actually come back?”
Amber nodded quietly, making sure the strand of hair covering the right side of her face didn’t move, terrified the bruise would be revealed.
Ethan didn’t bother looking at her directly as he spoke with disdain.
“Do whatever you want. You’ll be gone in three days like all the others. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” she replied with forced composure. Then she gestured to the table. “But breakfast is served. Please, Ethan—eat. If you refuse, then I’ll know my presence truly disgusts you.”
He scoffed, furious and proud, as if her words had dared to wound him. He would not give importance to this obstinate girl. The maid served the meal in silence while the air grew thick with unspoken tension.
Amber kept her eyes fixed on the coffee cup in front of her, her hands steady so they wouldn’t betray her trembling. Ethan finally sat down, his movements harsh, full of arrogance.
He barely touched his food before dropping his cutlery onto the table with a clatter that made her flinch.
“I expect you not to be here tonight when I return… whatever your name is.”
“Amber,” she answered, her voice low but firm. “Amber. And yes, Ethan, maybe you will find me here tonight.” Her words wavered at the end, and he, almost entertained by her defiance, left without another word.
The moment the door closed behind him, Amber broke. A muffled sob escaped as she pressed her hand against her face. It was unbearable—but she would endure.
It was only a year.
