Chapter 3

The top floor of the Chapman Group building echoed with the deafening sound of shattering glass. I was like a madwoman, tearing the entire lounge apart.

When someone with a condition like mine reached their breaking point, the destruction caused could be terrifying.

My whole body trembled with every breath. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face, but I couldn't stop smashing things.

Adam and the others dared not come near me. They were afraid the golf club would accidentally hurt me. They could only stand there and watch until I was completely worn out.

The club slipped from my hand. I leaned against the wall, drained of all strength, gasping for air.

Sunny hid in Beau's arms, trembling. "Ms. Chapman is terrifying… I only drank some water, and she reacted like she was going to kill me for it."

She looked at Claude with pitiful eyes. "Claude, I'm so scared. My leg hurts."

As a doctor, Claude instinctively felt the need to tend to her wound. He walked over, tore open the fabric around her leg, and examined it. "It's only a superficial injury. The vein wasn't damaged."

My stomach churned at this scene. "You all disgust me."

I spat out those words coldly, then turned around and left.

…

For the next two weeks, I didn't say a single word to them.

Instead, I poured all my energy into my personal jewelry exhibition. It was the result of an entire year of hard work. Every single design was birthed from countless sleepless nights.

For people like me, focusing on one thing was the only way to calm the storm inside. I locked away each sketch in my private studio at the Chapman residence. No one was allowed inside except me.

Three days before the exhibition, I pushed open the door to my studio. My heart sank. The first thing I saw was a floor covered in scraps of paper.

Every one of my original design drafts had been cut into pieces and soaked in buckets of colorful paint. In the center of the studio, Sunny was kneeling on the floor, wiping it clean with a rag.

When she saw me, she fell backward in shock and landed on the floor. "Ms. Chapman…"

My blood ran cold. I rushed forward without thinking and plunged my hands into the paint bucket, desperately trying to salvage the fragments.

Alas, it was too late. All of my designs were destroyed.

"Sunny Sinclair!" I shrilled like a vengeful spirit.

The commotion brought Adam, Beau, and Claude rushing in. When they saw the mess covering the floor, they were stunned.

Sunny immediately dropped to her knees and burst into tears. "I don't understand art. I thought those were just waste papers… I saw how messy the studio was, so I wanted to help Ms. Chapman clean it up.

"This is how I always helped with chores back in the countryside. I swear I didn't know these were supposed to be important!"

She cried as she grabbed onto Adam's pant leg. "Adam, please help me out. I'll make it up to Ms. Chapman. I'll do just anything to pay her back!"

He looked at her pitiful state, then at my trembling body and paint-covered hands. "Nance… She was just trying to help. You're talented. I'm sure you can just redraw them. It won't be the end of the world if you postpone the exhibition."

Beau nodded along. "That's right. Sunny doesn't even know what paint is. Don't make things more difficult for her."

I stared at them, my eyes cold and empty.

These were the same brothers I had relied on since childhood. When a little noise kept me from sleeping, they had bought every dog on the entire street and sent them away just to give me peace.

Now that my year-long hard work was gone, all they could tell me was to redraw them.

I quoted Sunny's words and slowly stood up. "You said these were 'waste papers,' huh?"

I walked toward her step by step, looking down at her. "Seriously, who do you think you are to decide that something of mine is worthless? You think acting pitiful and saying you'll do anything can erase what you did?"

I grabbed a bucket of red paint beside me and poured the entire thing over Sunny's head. She screamed.

"Since you love cleaning so much, use your tongue and lick every drop of paint off this floor until it's clean!" I roared, my chest rising and falling violently.

Adam pushed me away. "Enough, Nancy! You're acting like a shrew right now!"