Set Me Free

During the helicopter ride back, I remained silent. According to the instructions in that strange text, I just had to continue living a numb, obedient existence for two more days, and then I would die. It promised to reward me with a second life, and honestly, that wasn’t that hard. I had held on for so long. Waiting two more days until my death made no difference.

The moment we stepped off the helicopter, a slender figure stood in the way of the exit. The fake heiress, Vanessa York, sized me up.

“You’re back?” she snapped. “Let me tell you something, Eva. Ethan and the others only agreed to bring you back because you’ve been submissive these past three years. If you ever bully me again as you did three years ago, I’ll have them gouge out your other eye!”

To be honest, I couldn’t even remember when I had ever bullied Vanessa. However, none of that mattered anymore. Over the last three years, there was no telling whether I’d have been on the receiving end of the matron’s slap or her whip the very next second. I had learned my lesson a long time ago.

Seeing that I remained silent for a long time, Ethan Miller, who was pushing my wheelchair, tapped the handle twice in a threatening manner.

“Eva, Vanessa is talking to you,” Ethan warned. “Defiant the very moment you get back, huh? Do you want us to send you back in time to learn some manners again?”

A shiver ran through my entire body. I quickly lowered my head and replied, “No, please. I will serve you and the young master properly.”

Vanessa snorted, seemingly satisfied with my response. “At least you’ve learned some sense. Let’s eat. I’ve had the servants prepare dinner.”

Satisfied, Ethan smiled and reached out to pat my head. I instinctively closed my eyes, trembling all over as if expecting a blow. Seeing how terrified I was of him, the light in Ethan’s eyes dimmed slightly.

He intentionally softened his voice and said, “Don’t be afraid. I won’t punish you anymore. I love you, Eva. I won’t hit you. From now on, you will be my Mrs. Miller, just like before.”

I shook my head frantically, offering a desperate, pleasing smile. “I wouldn’t dare. I am just a mistress. I will be very good.”

Ethan’s smile froze on his face, leaving him speechless for a moment. The way he looked at me became complicated and conflicted.

“Eva, you don’t have to be afraid of me,” Ethan muttered. “Forget it… There’s no rush. We still have plenty of time.”

At the dining table, the clinking of knives and forks rang out sharply. Sitting across from me, Hudson Jones noticed that I hadn’t touched my food, so he proactively slid a plate of neatly sliced steak over to me.

“Why aren’t you eating? Did you forget how to use a knife and fork?” Hudson asked. “Have mine. I’ve cut it for you.”

As usual, I didn’t dare to move.

I simply buried my head lower and replied, “The matron at the manor taught me that, as I am of lowly birth, I am not worthy of a proper meal.”

“Please eat first,” I whispered. “I will eat the leftovers.”

Hudson froze. He exchanged a look with Ethan, who was sitting right next to him.

Ethan tried to comfort me, saying, “Eva, listen to me. Now that you are back, those old rules don’t exist anymore. As long as you’re good, we’ll treat you just as well as we did before. Eat.”

I raised my head quickly, only to drop it back down immediately. I still didn’t dare to. Instead, my brother, Logan York, looked at me with a thoughtful, testing gaze.

He said, “Eva, Ethan is telling you to eat. In this house, whatever he says is the rule.”

Only then did I raise my head again, tremblingly lifting a piece of food to my mouth. I ate very slowly and very little. As I lifted the fork, my arm swayed loosely inside my sleeve. Over the past few months, I’d become disturbingly thin.

The atmosphere at the dining table suddenly grew suffocatingly tense. Only Vanessa continued to chatter enthusiastically about plans for the baby’s upcoming party. Ethan and the others listened quietly, clearly distracted.

After forcing down just two bites, I stopped. Suppressing the wave of nausea rising in my throat, I looked at Ethan.

“I… think I might be pregnant,” I announced.

Before the three men could even process any joy, I continued to speak in a numb, detached voice, “Can I beg you to grant me some abortion pills? Or, you can just take me to a clinic to get an abortion.”