Chapter 6
Brandori smacked his lips with a mocking smile.
“That’s right–my father–in–law and mother–in–law are presidents of the EastBridge Holdings. They’re busy all day, naturally,”
As he spoke, he reached out and pinched Marilyn’s cheek.
“My wife is amazing–beautiful and from such a prestigious family. I really was blind before.”
Marilyn’s eyes flickered with guilt, but I ignored them and walked past them, heading straight upstairs,
My swollen cheeks needed ice, and the wound on my forehead required proper treatment. Brandon’s dark eyes followed me, unreadable and cold–I couldn’t tell what he was plotting.
While applying disinfectant in front of the mirror, Marilyn suddenly came in and snatched the medicine from my hand.
“This injury won’t kill you. Why are you so fragile?” she sneered.
I set down the cotton swab, helpless, and met her gaze with confusion. “What do you want?”
Without warning, Marilyn grabbed a cup of boiling water and poured it over my head.
“To wake you up! Stop seducing Brandon with your weak act!”
“Ah!” I screamed,
“Are you crazy?!”
sprang up and tried to knock the glass from her hands. The glass slipped, crashing onto the floor and shattering into pieces.
Brandon rushed in at the sound. “What’s going on?”
Marilyn instantly dropped to the floor, clutching a shard of glass. Blood trickled down her palm.
“What happened?” Brandon demanded, panic flashing in his eyes.
He hurried to pick Marilyn up and laid her carefully on the edge of my bed.
Tears streamed down her flushed face as she sobbed, “Brandon, I just saw Anna wasn’t feeling well, so I poured her some water. But she didn’t thank me–she knocked over the glass and pushed me to the ground!”
“Brandon, does Anna hate me? It’s my fault for taking you away. She’s right to resent me!”
As soon as her words fell, Brandon’s palm suddenly slammed across my cheek.
The force knocked me to the ground, my palms landing on the shattered glass. Pain exploded as a long, sharp cut tore across my face.
It hurt–burned like fire. My face might be disfigured.
Brandon froze for a moment, shocked by the severity of the injury his slap caused. Then his lips curled into a cruel smile.
“Why are you playing the victim now? Trying to guilt–trip me?”
“You started this by attacking Marilyn–I just retaliated.”
8:04 pm G
“Don’t think I’ll let this go. Apologize to her. Now.”
A cold chill spread through my chest.
I bit back the pain, forcing myself to stand with steady calm. “I’m sorry.”
He sneered. “Not sincere enough.”
Before I could react, he grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking me down until my forehead pressed against the floor.
“Kneel and bow down!” he barked.
Hatred boiled in my heart. Apologizing for something I hadn’t done was one thing–a single word to save myself from more pain. But bowing? That was pride.
The last shred of my dignity kept me upright, head raised stubbornly.
Brandon growled, furious at my defiance, and slammed me to the floor again by my hair.
As he pressed his face close to my ear, he whispered venomously:
“What are you proud of? Marilyn died because of you in his past life!”
“You wicked woman–what’s wrong with kowtowing? Just admit you’re sorry.”
He repeated the demand again and again until darkness swallowed me whole.
When I finally woke, night had fallen.
The blood on my forehead had dried into a crusty scab. Nearby lay some medicine, likely sent by Brandon’s servants–perhaps out of pity or fear I’d die.
I couldn’t afford to be angry with myself.
After all, I still had my brother–my only family left.
And I was determined to get him out of the Parrish family’s sanatorium, no matter what it took.
Chanterk
