Caged Like a Dog for Her True Love

The doctor studied the report, his expression grave. "Ms. Vega, Mr. Bowman has multiple fractures all over his body. If he doesn't get treatment right away, he won't be able to race again."

My fiancee, Heather Vega, replied coldly, "He won't be needing the treatment. Christopher has a healthy, strong body. I'm sure he'll get better on his own."

The doctor tried to reason with her. "Fractures don't heal by themselves. The longer treatment is delayed, the worse his recovery will be later down the line."

Heather's impatience was becoming obvious as she snapped, "I said he'll be fine. Are you deaf or what? Don't you know overtreatment is illegal now?"

With how firm Heather was being, the doctor turned to me and sighed helplessly before leaving.

During those three days and nights of pure torture, those women had taken turns riding on top of me, and as they were as fat as pigs, they had bent my spine out of shape.

They struck me repeatedly with whips dipped in scalding oil, which aggravated my bite injuries so much that I blacked out from the pain more than once.

There were countless times when I wanted to bite my tongue and end it all in despair. But whenever I thought of Heather and my sister, Claire Bowman—their voices and their smiles—it gave me the will to hang on.

What I never expected was that the two women I trusted most were actually the ones behind my descent to hell.

I had endured all that inhuman torture without shedding a single tear, yet at this moment, tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

It felt like my heart had been pierced by a thousand arrows, rendering me unable to breathe.

From behind the curtain, my elder sister, Claire Bowman, whispered, "Heather, aren't we being too cruel to Christopher? Racing is his lifelong dream."

In an icy voice, Heather said, "Don't forget that if Samuel hadn't saved us back then in that car accident, we'd both be dead right now.

"We're indebted to Samuel. Saying that he gave us a second chance at life wouldn't even be an exaggeration. And that's why I can't let Christopher get surgery right now. If he recovers, he'll be Samuel's biggest threat."

Hearing that made my heart ache painfully. So to them, Samuel Payne mattered a million times more than I ever did.

A while later, as I drifted off to sleep, someone pressed a pillow over my mouth all of a sudden. The moment our eyes met, I knew it was Heather.

As if afraid I'd recognize her, she switched places with someone else. But when I saw the birthmark on the other person's neck, cold sweat broke out all over me. It was Claire.

Without warning, the Achilles tendon in my right ankle was severed, and the muscles in my calf were sliced.

My whole body trembled uncontrollably, but I couldn't move at all due to my injuries.

I screamed in agony, but the pillow muffled my voice completely. No one came to save me.

In that moment, despair overwhelmed me. For a racecar driver, losing one's right leg meant one could never hit the brakes again, and one's career was over from then on.

Just then, Claire brought over a syringe and injected something into my arm. Heather immediately snatched it away. "Why are you giving him anesthesia? Christopher's a grown man—he can handle this bit of pain."

Afraid I had recognized her voice, Heather grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it hard against my head out of panic. Everything went black immediately.

When I woke up again, my head had already been bandaged. Heather and Claire were by my side, looking worried.

Seeing that I was awake, Heather quickly comforted me. "Christopher, don't be scared. The families of those women must have come to take revenge earlier. I've already had people take them in."

Claire went along with Heather, telling me not to worry and that they'd stay by my side. It felt like my heart was being crushed by a giant hammer, causing it to bleed profusely.

The very people who had just hurt me were now pretending to care about me. At that moment, I didn't even know what in this world was real anymore.