Chapter 6

Lynn was the young mistress of the Smith family; the butler dared not disobey her.

He let out a resigned sigh before turning to Victoria. "My apologies, Mrs. Smith."

With that, he raised the rattan cane and brought it down across Victoria's palm, again and again.

Her hand swelled quickly, turning a raw, angry red. The skin soon split under the repeated blows, weeping tiny beads of blood that sent waves of searing pain through her. 

She bit down hard on her lip, forcing her back to remain ramrod straight, refusing to utter a sound as she endured all twenty lashes.

The moment the butler retracted the cane, her phone rang.

With a trembling hand, Victoria retrieved the device and answered the call.

"Victoria, is this a good time?" Lincoln's gentle voice came through, the background noise a low hum of chatter. "I'm over at the Grand Crest Hotel, meeting with a few old friends from the aviation industry. One of them is a retired senior administrator from the Civil Aviation Authority, and he's quite interested in that paper you wrote on flight safety protocols in extreme weather. It's a rare opportunity. If you have a moment, you should come."

Victoria's throat felt dry and tight. Her first instinct was to refuse; her current state was hardly suitable for meeting anyone of importance. 

But then the reality of her situation settled in. She was about to leave the Smith family, and she needed a new path, a way forward. This was an opportunity she could not afford to miss.

Clutching the phone tighter, she forced conviction into her voice. "Yes, of course. I'll be right there."

After hanging up, Victoria tidied herself up as best she could and left the house.

Half an hour later, she arrived at the Grand Crest Hotel. Before she could locate Lincoln, her eyes were drawn to the adjacent ballroom, where Charles stood at the center of a well-dressed crowd. 

He was clad in a flawlessly tailored black suit, a champagne flute in hand as he conversed with a guest. 

And on his arm, her hand looped possessively through his, was Michelle. 

She was a vision in a pale gold mermaid gown, her makeup exquisite, accentuating her radiant beauty. Standing together, they looked like the perfect couple.

A man holding his own glass approached them with a knowing smile. "Mr. Smith, I hear you and Ms. Johnson have known each other since childhood. Now you're inseparable at the office. Does this mean we'll be hearing wedding bells soon?"

Charles's expression remained impassive. He neither confirmed nor denied the insinuation, merely offering a slight, noncommittal lift of his glass. 

Michelle, however, blushed prettily and lowered her head in a display of shy modesty, which only served to intensify the suggestive gazes fixed upon them.

Victoria watched from the shadows of the corridor, a heavy, suffocating pressure building in her chest. It was a dull, persistent ache, as if her heart had been plugged with stone.

Just then, Michelle looked up, her eyes immediately finding Victoria's forlorn figure. A bright, sharp light entered her expression, and she lifted a hand, waving with a saccharine smile.

"Victoria?" Her voice, though not loud, cut through the ambient noise, instantly redirecting everyone's attention.

Charles's gaze followed the others. His brow furrowed the moment he saw her, and he strode over, his face a mask of displeasure. "What are you doing here? This is not a place for you. I'll have someone send you home."

"Charles, don't be so harsh," Michelle said, trailing behind him, her gown rustling. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her voice soft and placating. "Perhaps Victoria just wanted to come and see what it was like."

Victoria remained silent.

Michelle's eyes swept over her, lingering on the excessive pallor of her face. "Victoria, you look so pale," she remarked, a note of feigned concern in her voice. "You're not still upset about this afternoon, are you? Charles is just very serious when it comes to work; that's why he was so stern. I know you're heartbroken, but look at the occasion…"

She let her words trail off, casting a hesitant, meaningful glance at Victoria before lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "After all, Victoria, you are pregnant. You should take care of yourself. Matters of the heart can't be forced."

The statement, though delicately phrased, instantly painted Victoria as a desperate woman, chasing Charles to an event where she clearly did not belong. A wave of disdainful looks washed over her.

"A pregnant woman still trying to cling to Mr. Smith? She's really a toad trying to eat swan meat."

"She must be desperate to marry up. Doesn't she see who's standing next to Mr. Smith? She can't even compare to a single strand of Michelle's hair."

"And Ms. Johnson is so kind, still speaking up for someone like that."

The whispers lapped at the edges of her hearing, each one a fresh humiliation. Victoria's face burned. She curled her fingers into a fist, straightened her spine, and met Michelle's gaze directly.

"You're overthinking things, Ms. Johnson. I'm here for other business, which has nothing to do with you or Mr. Smith. You, on the other hand, seem to enjoy projecting your own assumptions onto others."

Without waiting for a response, she turned her back on them and walked away with decisive strides, heading for the private room where Lincoln was waiting.

Inside, Lincoln was in the middle of a conversation about her. Seeing her enter, he immediately made the introductions. 

"Here she is now. This is Victoria, the student I was just telling you about. She was always at the top of her class, my most outstanding pupil. She also handled that last flight incident with remarkable skill. Though she took a bit of a detour these past few years, her professional knowledge is still very much intact."

Victoria greeted them politely. The retired administrator was indeed interested in her, posing several technical questions. She answered each one with clarity and insight, her unique perspectives impressing him. When he learned she planned to return to her career as a pilot, he was visibly pleased.

Two hours later, she politely excused herself. As she left the room and walked toward the elevators, she ran into Michelle.

Michelle's face lit up as if she'd been waiting. "Victoria, I finally found you. I know my words in the ballroom were a bit blunt, and I apologize. But I was only trying to help you. Charles doesn't have you in his heart. Chasing him like this will only make him despise you more. Why humiliate yourself?"

Victoria had no desire to engage. She tried to step around her, but Michelle grabbed her arm, her grip surprisingly strong. Her fingers dug directly into the raw, open wounds from the cane, and a fresh stain of blood immediately seeped through the gauze. 

A jolt of white-hot pain shot up Victoria's arm, and she instinctively tried to pull away.

At that moment, Michelle leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper in Victoria's ear. "I will make you understand that in Charles's heart, you are nothing."

Before Victoria could process the words, Michelle suddenly staggered backward. The heel of her shoe twisted unnaturally, and she pitched sideways, tumbling toward the adjacent staircase. 

Victoria's hand shot out, her fingers just grazing the fabric of Michelle's dress as she fell. She could only watch in horror as Michelle let out a sharp cry and rolled down the stairs, coming to a stop on the landing below.

"Michelle!" Charles's voice boomed from the end of the hall. He had arrived just in time to witness the fall.

He sprinted past Victoria, rushing to Michelle's side and gathering her into his arms. A small cut on her forehead was bleeding, and she leaned weakly against his chest, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

"Charles, it hurts," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It was my fault. I said something that made her angry. Please, don't blame her."

Charles looked up, his gaze locking onto Victoria, who stood frozen at the top of the stairs. His face was a thundercloud of fury.

"Victoria! You are absolutely unbelievable! Following me here, and now deliberately injuring someone!"

A chill spread through Victoria's entire body. She could only shake her head. "She fell on her own! Charles, you have to believe me this once."

"Believe you?" Charles scoffed. He adjusted his hold on Michelle and started to move, pausing only when he was beside Victoria. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a lie?"

"I really didn't. I was here to see my mentor, Lincoln. He can prove it." Victoria fumbled for her phone, her palm slick with cold sweat, making it difficult to dial. When she finally managed to place the call, a cold, robotic voice answered.

"We're sorry, the number you have dialed is not available at this time."

Lincoln was likely still in the private room, his phone silenced.

Charles had stopped, watching her pathetic attempt with cold disdain. "Victoria, could your lies be any more clumsy? Now you're dragging your mentor into this? Do you really think the whole world will play along with your little drama?"

Without another word, he strode away, carrying Michelle toward the exit to rush her to the hospital.

At the hospital, outside the emergency room, Victoria had followed them. She had just reached the corridor when she met Charles's icy glare. She parted her lips to speak, but before she could form a word, Lynn, who had clearly been summoned, cut her off.

"Victoria, what kind of game are you playing now? You were just jealous that Charles took Michelle to the banquet, so you followed them here to target her. Years ago, when your father's company went bankrupt, you shamelessly drugged Charles and forced him to marry you for money! If you weren't such an embarrassment, a disgrace he couldn't show in public, why do you think he only ever takes Michelle to these events?" 

Lynn's voice was shrill with contempt. "He's tolerated you all this time because of the child. But you? You've only gotten worse!"

The old accusations were a sharp knife, plunging deep into Victoria's heart. She had explained herself countless times over the years, but no one had ever believed her. 

They all saw her just as Lynn did: a scheming woman who had unscrupulously climbed into Charles's bed to secure her place in the Smith family.

At the mention of the past, Charles's own expression darkened with renewed humiliation. Seeing Victoria's defiant silence as a lack of remorse, his anger flared.

"Get in there and kneel before Michelle. Apologize until she forgives you."

"No!" Victoria bit her lip so hard she could taste blood. "I did nothing wrong. I will not kneel."

"It's not up to you." Charles seized her wrist, his grip like iron, and began dragging her toward the hospital room.

"Charles! Let me go!" Victoria struggled fiercely. A dull ache throbbed in her abdomen, and the tearing of the wounds on her hand sent bolts of pain through her, drenching her in a cold sweat. But Charles was made of stone, devoid of any mercy.

If everything she did was wrong, if this marriage was nothing but humiliation and torment, then there was only one thing left to do.

"I want a divorce!" Victoria screamed the words, channeling all her remaining strength into them.

Charles stopped dead in his tracks.

He turned, looking at her tear-streaked face, at the unwavering resolve in her eyes. Something shifted in his chest, a strange, jarring impact. But he suppressed it just as quickly, his lips twisting into a mocking sneer.

"A divorce? Victoria, after all the trouble you went through to get pregnant with this child, to marry into the Smith family, you're telling me you'd be willing to give it all up?"

His cynical gaze was a physical blow. Her hand moved unconsciously to her swollen belly, and the pain in her chest became a gaping wound, so sharp she could hardly breathe. She took several deep, ragged breaths, fighting back the agony.

"I can have an abortion," she said, her voice shaking but firm, each word a shard of glass. "Just sign your name in the father's section of the paperwork, and we will owe each other nothing."