Chapter 7

Hugh immediately grasped Caden's meaning and barked at the bodyguards, "Don't you hear him? Give her 30 lashes! Then, lock her in the family memorial hall! She doesn't come out until I say so!"

"Let go of me! You're not my father, Hugh! You're an animal!" Victoria fought with all her strength, but the bodyguards held her fast.

She was dragged into a side room. Marjorie stood there, gripping the sturdy riding crop, her face alight with vindictive glee.

"You ungrateful little bitch! You're just like your dead mother, always thinking you're above everyone else! I'll teach you a lesson on behalf of your father today!" Then, she raised the whip high and brought it down with savage force.

The first crack across Victoria's back sent white-hot agony exploding through her body. Her vision blacked out for a heartbeat, and she bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. The lashes rained down relentlessly, one after another.

Marjorie seemed to be channeling years of pent-up hatred into every swing. Each lash landed more brutally than the last, as if she intended to flay the skin from Victoria's body.

Agony wracked Victoria's body, twisting it into involuntary spasms. Cold sweat soaked through her clothes. As her consciousness began to fray, a memory surfaced.

Caden had asked with a frown when he learned of her strained relationship with Marjorie, "Do you need me to deal with her?"

She remembered nights when grief drove her to slip out alone to Eunice's grave in the pouring rain, and how he had somehow found her in the pouring rain, wordlessly wrapping her in his coat and driving her home. She remembered those fleeting moments she had mistaken for genuine concern.

Back then, had he ever imagined that one day, he would be the one to personally condemn her to this living hell?

A cough rattled in her chest, and the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Yet, a low, ragged laugh escaped her lips.

The sound chilled Marjorie's blood, fueling her rage. "What are you laughing at, you wretch?"

Victoria lifted her face, which was streaked with sweat and blood. Her eyes, fierce as a wolf's, locked onto Marjorie. Each word came out slow and deliberate. "I'm laughing at you and your daughter, destined to live off other people's scraps your whole miserable lives!"

"You—"

Marjorie trembled with fury and threw the crop aside. She turned and snarled at a maid, "Get me the stun baton! Now!"

"No, Mrs. Calloway! You mustn't! You'll kill Ms. Victoria!" an elderly maid, Edith Baker, cried out, unable to stay silent.

"Get out of my way! Who are you to speak?" Marjorie shoved Edith aside, snatched the stun baton from a bodyguard's hand, and swung it down viciously on Victoria.

Victoria shrieked as a searing jolt of electricity and a brutal impact tore through her. She heard the sickening crack of her own ribs giving way. A gush of blood escaped her mouth. Then, everything went black.

…

When consciousness returned, Victoria found herself lying on her own bed. Every inch of her body felt as though it had been run over by a truck.

Edith was quietly applying salve to her wounds, brushing away the tears streaming down her face as she whispered, "Ms. Victoria, just yield to Mr. Calloway. Why put yourself through such suffering?"

Victoria shook her head weakly, her voice a ragged whisper. "Yield? Yielding to this family will only get me devoured, bones and all."

She paused, forcing a smile that looked more painful than tears. "It's just a beating. And I gave Cassandra a cracked skull, too. It wasn't a bad trade. I… can take it."

Then, with great effort, she retrieved a bank card from beneath her pillow and pressed it into Edith's hand. "Ms. Baker, I want you to have this."

Edith recoiled in shock and hastily refused, "No, Ms. Victoria! I couldn't possibly! How can I take your money?"

But Victoria answered in a resolute tone, "Take it. I've… had this ready for quite some time now. I'm leaving the country and probably never coming back.

"You came with my mother from the Monroe family, so they won't treat you well here. This money… It's enough for you to live out your years in peace. Listen to me, resign and leave this place."

Edith looked at the card in her hand, then at the young woman who still thought of her even in her battered, broken state. Tears spilled freely, and she fell to her knees with a thud.

Victoria quickly stopped her, her voice frail yet carrying a hint of something almost childlike. "You know what, Ms. Baker? I'm actually craving your pumpkin soup."

"Yes, Ms. Victoria. I'll go make some for you right now. It'll be quick!" Edith hastily wiped her tears and hurried to the kitchen.

The room fell silent again. Victoria gazed up at the ornate but frigid ceiling and slowly closed her eyes, letting despair and sorrow swallow her whole.

In the days that followed, Victoria remained in her room to recover. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she slowly packed all her belongings. She also gathered every single gift Caden had ever given her.

He might not have loved her, but he had been generous. The total value of these items approached a hundred million dollars. She had considered simply throwing them away, but then she changed her mind and contacted the owner of a high-end club she frequented.

Hearing the club was hosting charity auctions recently, she called and mentioned she had plenty of items to contribute.

She received a swift reply informing her that there was an event that very evening, and she was welcome to attend.

That evening, Victoria arrived at the club with several large boxes. After handing everything over to the auction coordinator, she turned and, in a stroke of bad luck, saw Caden and Cassandra walking in together.

Cassandra leaned into Caden, and when her eyes met Victoria's, a flash of triumph and provocation lit within them.

Victoria's nails dug into her palms instinctively, then quickly relaxed. She had business here tonight. There was no need to waste her energy on them.

Caden's gaze seemed to linger for a fraction of a second on her unnaturally pale face before shifting away indifferently.

She had just taken her seat when the lights dimmed. The host took the stage and announced excitedly that before the auction began, there would be a three-minute "kiss for charity" segment for all the couples present to enjoy.

Victoria froze.

Roving spotlights swept through the darkened venue, illuminating couples locked in kisses and embraces.

She turned instinctively and caught sight of them.

Not far away, Cassandra wound her arms around Caden's neck with a sweet smile. He looked down at her, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest possible curve. Then, he bent down and kissed her.

In that instant, Victoria's heart felt like it was seized by an invisible, crushing grip. Memories flooded her mind uncontrollably. Memories of every passionate, possessive, desire-fueled kiss that she shared with Caden. Yet, none had ever held this quality of tender reverence.

Just then, a drunken scion from a wealthy family stumbled over. "You must be feeling lonely sitting here all by yourself, Ms. Calloway. Here, I'll accompany you…"