Chapter 1
Loretta's POV
I inherited my mother’s breathtaking beauty, while my sister was cursed with our father’s plain, vulgar looks.
Consumed by jealousy, she married early and settled into a mundane life, while I was kept entirely imprisoned by our mother—forbidden to date, forbidden to marry.
Whenever I brought a boyfriend home, my mother would take him into that mysterious locked bathroom.
Every single man who walked out of there would have glazed eyes and a flushed look of utter ecstasy. Then, without fail, they would coldly abandon me. Even the man who swore to marry me completely succumbed—to the point where he was having sex with my mother in the garden in broad daylight!
What’s even more bizarre is that whenever any female relative stepped into that bathroom, they came out looking at me with vicious hatred, joining forces to spit on me.
Betrayed by everyone and pushed to the brink, I decided to flee this demonic house in the dead of night.
But the moment I peeked through the crack of the door and finally caught a glimpse inside that bathroom, the blood in my veins turned to ice.
Only then did I horrifyingly realize the true reason my mother was willing to destroy my entire life...
"Loretta, what good is having a stunning face like Mom's?"
Pearl stood on the terrace of Black Oak Manor, swirling champagne in her glass, her plain, thick features twisted with malicious mockery. She had inherited our father's vulgar looks, while I got our mother’s peerless beauty. Yet, she was the one happily married to Jasper.
"Look at how pathetic you are. Twenty-six years old and rotting at home! Every man you've ever dated ends up running for the hills. So what if you're beautiful? You're just a sad loser who can't keep a man!"
"Don't waste your breath on her, honey," her husband Jasper sneered, wrapping an arm around her thick waist. He shot me a look of pure disgust. "Who’d dare marry a psycho? No wonder all her fiancés run away terrified."
I bit my pale lip hard, turning stiffly to follow their mocking gazes toward the garden.
My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. My fiancé, Killian, was holding Marigold—my 54-year-old biological mother—and making out with her passionately in the sunlight!
"What the hell! Killian, are you out of your mind?!" I bolted downstairs, trembling as I screamed at them.
Killian shoved me away without an ounce of mercy, glaring at me like I was garbage. "Stay the hell away from us, Loretta! You sick, crazy bitch!"
I couldn't breathe. It was happening again!
Out of all the boyfriends I’d had, whenever we reached the stage of talking about marriage, Marigold would take them into that locked bathroom on the second floor alone. No one ever knew what happened inside, but every man who walked out of that door would be flushed, sweating, and carrying an indescribable look of extreme, euphoric satisfaction.
And immediately after, they would turn on me with blind hatred and absolute betrayal.
But this time was the most devastating—Killian wasn't just breaking our engagement; he was openly sleeping with my mother in our own home!
Driven beyond my breaking point, I called my Uncle Arthur. He was the only elder in this family who actually cared about me.
Half an hour later, Arthur kicked open the manor’s front door, roaring with fury. "Marigold, are you out of your goddamn mind?! Sleeping with your own daughter's fiancé? Have you no shame?!"
Sitting on the sofa, Marigold didn't even blink. She set down her bourbon, a bizarrely gentle smile creeping onto her lips. "Don't be so dramatic, Arthur. Come upstairs to the bathroom with me first. I’ll show you something."
"Save your bullshit!" Arthur cursed, but he followed her upstairs anyway.
I stood paralyzed at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the bathroom door, my heart pounding in my throat.
Twenty minutes later, the lock clicked. The door opened.
Arthur walked out, looking down to buckle his belt. His face was flushed, and his lips carried that same sickening, intoxicated smirk of pure satisfaction.
"Uncle?" I rushed up to him like he was my last lifeline. "You taught her a lesson, right?"
