Chapter 2

Selene stood on the other side of the bars, smiling as she looked at my wretched state.

I shot daggers at her. "Selene, you set us up back then, didn't you? Dad never laid a finger on you! You stripped naked and staged the whole thing!"

Selene smiled nonchalantly. "Initially, your father insisted he never laid a hand on me. But after they beat him until he was crawling on the floor, he grabbed someone's leg and begged them to stop.

"He said he'd confess to anything as long as they stopped beating him. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for refusing to break up with Cliff and step aside for me, his fiancee!"

My eyes were bloodshot as I lunged at her like a madwoman, causing the iron bars to rattle loudly. "I'm going to kill you, Selene!"

To my surprise, she took half a step back and let out a startled cry before falling to the ground. "Why did you push me, Kyra?"

Clifford strode over. The moment he saw Selene on the floor, his expression darkened to the extreme. Without the slightest hesitation, he grabbed me by the neck and pinned me against the wall.

As the sense of suffocation overwhelmed me, I instinctively thrashed wildly. Yet no matter how hard I clawed at his hands, I couldn't pry his fingers open.

"Let her go, Cliff. I'm just a little anemic, so I lost my footing earlier…" Selene said weakly.

Clifford finally released his grip.

I doubled over, coughing till my lungs burned, the raw taste of blood filling my mouth. "Where's my son?"

I braced myself against the floor, tears trickling down my face. "Give me back my son. He's supposed to go into surgery at 9:00 am tomorrow. He can't afford to wait any longer…"

Clifford looked down at me condescendingly. "He's just a bastard, yet you're so protective of him. Since you know you're in the wrong, get on your knees and apologize to Selene. I'll let you and your son go when she's satisfied."

I gaped at him. The man in front of me clearly still had the same face. Yet, the Clifford from five years ago—the one who had made chamomile tea for me when my period came early and had driven two hours in the middle of the night just to buy me a slice of cake—was already dead.

Brooke was scheduled to go into surgery at 9:00 am the next day. I had no time left.

Gritting my teeth, I slowly bent my knees and dropped to the floor. "I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Graham."

My forehead struck the floor with a dull thud. When I raised my head again, a bruise had already formed. "Please… give my son back to me."

Without warning, a powerful grip closed around my wrist.

Clifford was caught off guard. Moments later, he yanked me up from the floor. His eyes were frighteningly red as he practically gritted out, "I had no idea you were such a spineless whore, Kyra! For money, for some bastard child, you'll do anything, won't you?"

I froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. For five whole years, I had endured all sorts of humiliation in nightclubs.

I had gone from loathing myself to smiling sweetly while greasy hands slipped beneath my clothes and pawed at me, all so I could coax customers into buying another drink. I'd lost my backbone and my pride a long time ago.

"What good is having a backbone?"

Could it bring Dad back to life? Could it stop Brooke from dying in the ICU?

I was poor. I had knelt before others, and I had been slapped across the face and had my head forced into drinks.

"So long as Brooke can live, I'm willing to do anything!"

Clifford's grip abruptly tightened, and his expression turned unbearably grim.

Just then, a small voice drifted from outside the door. "Mommy…"

I whipped my head around.

Brooke was brought in, clutching the doorframe for support, his face as pale as a sheet of paper.

I rushed over and pulled him into my arms. "Hush now, Brooke. I'm here. I'm here…"

Brooke, however, stared at Clifford and timidly called out, "Daddy…"

My mind went completely blank, and my entire body went rigid.

When he was little, he had always pestered me, asking where his dad was. I had no choice but to pull out an old photo of Clifford and me and lie that his dad had gone somewhere far away.

Clifford stared intently at Brooke, his brows knit tightly together. The very next second, Selene stepped forward and said gently, "Kyra really will stop at nothing, Cliff. To con you out of your money, she's even using her son."

As if afraid Clifford wouldn't believe him, Brooke hurriedly pulled out a silver necklace from his collar, holding it up as high as he could. "Daddy gave me this…"

My expression changed drastically in an instant.

That necklace was a birthday present Clifford had personally given me. I had always worn it close to my heart. After Brooke was born and plagued by one illness after another, I put it on him, hoping it would protect him.

Clifford's gaze darkened. He marched forward, seized the necklace, and yanked it off, snapping the chain. "Kyra Sullivan," he spat out. "To scam me out of money, you're even willing to use the gift I gave you."

The necklace clattered to the floor. Much like the last glimmer of hope I'd clung to all these years, it was crushed into dust under his boot.

Clifford took Selene's hand and turned to leave.

I held Brooke as tightly as I could. Noticing that Clifford was about to leave, I finally broke down and screamed, "You bought me at the auction for a hundred million dollars! Where's my money?"

He came to an abrupt halt.

A moment later, he pulled a black card out of his wallet and hurled it at my face without turning around. "The password is the date you betrayed me. Take it and get the hell out here!"