Chapter 12

Chloe curled up. All night.

The bloody images played on repeat like a film. Vincent's knife. Vivienne's needle.

Her parents' twisted faces during the flaying. Herself tied to the chair. Hot wax pouring onto her hand. The agony.

Ivy had died too early in her last life. Chloe had never taken that scrawny wild girl seriously. Who knew that after Ivy died, the two Winter lunatics would come after the Shaw family?

Chloe threw off the blanket. She stepped barefoot onto the floor. She sat down at the dressing table.

The mirror reflected a pale face. Slowly twisting.

This time, she would never let what happened in her last life repeat. She would bring Ivy back to the Shaw family. Keep her close. Then kill her slowly.

Chloe pulled open the drawer. She dug out a velvet box from the bottom. Inside lay a tiny silver hairpin.

In her last life, she had loved using this hairpin to stab Ivy. Her thighs. Her back. Anywhere clothes could hide the marks.

Ivy would shake with pain but didn't dare scream. That sight was more fun than any toy.

Chloe pinned the hairpin in her hair. She smiled sweetly at the mirror.

Dawn. The Shaw dining room.

Grant Shaw sat at the head of the long table. He flipped through the financial paper. Sipped his coffee.

Linda Shaw sat across from him. She elegantly cut the fried egg on her plate.

Chloe walked into the dining room in her neat school uniform. Her eyes were red. She had clearly been crying.

Linda immediately set down her fork. "Chloe, what's wrong? Is your hand still hurting?"

Chloe shook her head. She sat down. She lowered her head.

She was quiet for a long moment. Then she spoke in a tiny voice.

"Dad, Mom, there's something I need to tell you."

Grant set down the newspaper. He frowned at her.

Chloe raised her head. Tears slid down her face at just the right moment.

"It's that new girl in our class. Ivy. The first time I saw her, she looked so familiar. I kept looking more carefully..."

"Dad, her eyes are exactly like yours. And Mom, her face shape is like yours too. Especially the chin and lips."

She choked up.

"I know you never forgot that missing sister. So I secretly watched her for a long time. The more I looked, the more alike she seemed."

"She really looks so much like you."

Grant's expression shifted. Five years ago, their biological daughter had gone missing at age three. The police searched for half a year and found nothing.

To fill the hole left by losing their daughter, they adopted Chloe from the orphanage. Over time, the matter got buried deep in memory. No one wanted to bring it up again.

But now, a child who looked like them had appeared?

"Are you sure?" Grant's voice was low.

Chloe nodded hard. "Dad, can you have someone look into it? What if it really is her?"

Linda's eyes were already turning red. She looked over at her husband.

Grant was quiet for a moment. He picked up his phone and dialed.

"Look someone up for me. Sacred Sprouts Preschool. Ivy."

The results landed on Grant's desk that afternoon. The file was clean. Too clean.

Ivy, female, five years old. Adopted by Vincent and Vivienne Winter three months ago. No prior records.

Vincent, truck driver. Vivienne, chef.

The couple had two sons. The older one studied out of town. The younger one was in the same class as Ivy.

A photo of Ivy was attached to the file.

Grant stared at that photo for a long time. The facial features. Exactly like Linda when she was young.

Grant picked up the intercom. "Get the car ready. We're going to the Winter house tomorrow."

Sunday. The Winter house.

Ivy woke up early. She eagerly helped Vivienne get breakfast ready.

Well, more like she hovered around the kitchen. Handing over spoons. Fetching bowls. Sneaking a lick of jam whenever Vivienne wasn't looking.

Vivienne wore her apron. She scooped the slightly burnt fried eggs out of the pan. She gently placed them on Ivy's small plate.

"Ivy, why are you being so helpful today?"

"Because it's the weekend! Dad, Mom, and brother are all home. Ivy is happy."

Ivy stood on her tiptoes. She kissed Vivienne on the cheek.

Vivienne melted. She nearly dropped the spatula.

Vincent lay on the sofa catching up on sleep. Still as a corpse.

Then the doorbell rang. Nobody moved. It rang again. Still nothing.

Vivienne was busy with the eggs. Vincent was busy playing dead. Both figured the other one would get it.

Ivy wiped the jam off her hands. She ran to the door. She stretched up on her tiptoes.

She grabbed the doorknob. She pulled hard.

A group of people stood outside. At the front was a middle-aged man in a tailored suit. Behind him stood two bodyguards in black. And a little girl with golden hair.

It was Chloe. And Chloe's dad.

Grant looked down at the little girl in the pink apron standing before him. Jam smeared across her face.

His gaze landed on those green eyes. His pupils contracted slightly.

The resemblance. Too strong.

"Hello, are your parents home?" Grant forced a smile.

Vivienne poked her head out from the kitchen. She still held the spatula. At the sight of the group at the door, her eyes narrowed slightly.

Vincent finally dragged himself up from the sofa. He walked to the door. One hand came to rest naturally on Ivy's shoulder. He pulled her behind him.

"What do you want?"

Vincent's voice was lazy. But his eyes had already swept coldly over every person outside. Then stopped on Chloe.

Chloe instinctively stepped back half a step.

Grant cleared his throat. He straightened up.

"I am Grant Shaw, head of the Shaw family, the wealthiest man in the city. I'm here unannounced because there's something important I need to confirm with you."

His gaze dropped to Ivy again. His tone was certain.

"This child may be my Shaw family's long-lost biological daughter."

The air went still for a second.

Ivy's small hand gripped the edge of her apron. But she showed no surprise. She simply stood quietly behind Vincent. Her green eyes looked calmly at Grant.

Vivienne moved to Vincent's side. The spatula still steamed. Her smile faded slightly.

"Mr. Shaw, you're saying our Ivy is your biological daughter. What evidence do you have?"

Grant frowned. He was the richest man in the city. He announced his name. People jumped to do things for him.

Now he had come personally to claim his daughter. And this family was treating him like this?

"Look at this child's eyes. They're exactly like mine. What more evidence do you need?"

He said this and glanced around the Winter house. Old villa. Worn-out furniture.

Strange decorations hung on the walls. The whole place gave off an air that was hard to name.

He didn't think too much of it. He just thought the family was poor.

"I am Grant Shaw, the lead investor of Sacred Sprouts Preschool. My net worth exceeds ten billion."

"I've seen how you live. Can an environment like this raise a child properly?"

Chloe stood behind Grant. The corner of her mouth curved up slightly. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

She was already picturing Ivy's life after coming back to the Shaw family.

First, lock her in the dark room for three days. Let her learn the rules.

Then work slowly with the hairpin. Find the spots that hurt most. Keep going until she cried and begged for mercy.

When she got bored, Ivy could die.

Ivy caught that familiar twisted smile on Chloe's face. A tiny silver hairpin glinted between her fingers.

That hairpin. She would know it anywhere.

During the three years she was locked inside the Shaw house in her last life, Chloe had used that hairpin on her again and again.

Her thighs. Her back. The soft skin on the inside of her arms.

After each stab, Chloe would giggle and say, "Sister, I'm giving you a little shot."

Ivy's pupils shrank sharply.

She looked up. Her eyes met Chloe's. Chloe's smile widened.

That look. Ivy knew it far too well. Not the kind of look a five-year-old should have. It carried an adult's cruelty underneath.

Ivy understood in an instant. Chloe had been reborn too.

Of course. At this point in time, the Shaw family had no reason to know her real identity.

"Since you won't cooperate, don't blame me for taking matters into my own hands."

Grant signaled the two bodyguards behind him. "Take the young miss."

The two bodyguards moved to step forward.

Vivienne and Vincent exchanged a glance. Both were already thinking about covering Ivy's eyes and dealing with everyone here. Ivy wasn't paying attention.

Vivienne had quietly shifted the spatula to her left hand. Her right hand slipped toward the boning knife in her apron pocket. Her smile stayed gentle.

But she was already working out how to get Ivy back to her room first. What came next wasn't for children.

Vincent's hand had moved to the pistol at his waist. His blue eyes half-closed. He was probably calculating the angle to block the splatter after the shot, so nothing would get stained.

The moment the gun was about to come up, footsteps approached. Unhurried.

Everyone turned toward the door.

A tall, lean young man walked in. Dark shirt. Sleeves rolled to his forearms.

Hair slightly long, falling just above his brow. His features were striking. But his eyes were cold to the bone.

Two uniformed police officers followed behind him. Their manner was deferential, as if escorting someone important. They walked him right to the door.

Adrian took one slow look at the crowd packed into the yard. His gaze finally settled on Grant.

He smiled.

"Quite the gathering at home today?"

Adrian's voice wasn't loud. But it sent a chill through everyone there.