Chapter 2

After the blast, the bullet grazed my cheek and punched straight through the back seat.

A few inches to the left, and I would have died right there.

I fought to stay calm, flooring the gas, breaking through the blockade.

By the time I lost them, dawn had broken.

I sat frozen in the car for a long time, hands gripping the wheel, body shaking beyond my control.

Once my heartbeat settled, I drove to the nearest pawnshop and pushed the necklace across the counter.

After trading it for cash, I found someone to repair my phone.

The signal bars lit up again. I stared at the empty screen and suddenly felt so tired.

My brother and sister ran the family's massive operations, living large.

And yet, we were all Father's children.

I had sunk so low that even the money to fix my phone came from pawning the only old thing I had left.

I dragged myself back to the estate, only to walk in on Father standing at his desk, discussing defensive gear and personal bodyguards for my brother and sister with the butler.

When he saw me, he instinctively hid the list behind his back, never once noticing the wound on my face.

"These gear sets come in two. Perfect for the two of them. Otherwise it won't split evenly, and your brother and sister will start another fight."

"But..."

He paused, picked up a dagger from the edge of the desk, a freebie from a supplier, and held it out to me like charity.

"They don't need this. Take it for self defense."

Looking at that rusted dagger, I smiled and avoided his hand.

"Father, you forgot."

"Three years ago, when I took that blade for you during the assassination, it left me with some trauma."

"The moment I touch anything sharp, my hands shake and I can't stop them."

"I can't hold a blade, Father."

Father froze. For a long moment, he said nothing. Something like guilt flickered through his eyes.

But only for an instant.

From the second floor, my sister's complaining voice drifted down.

Father turned away immediately, loudly soothing her as he brushed past me without a second thought.

Watching him walk away, my heart ached like it was being stabbed with needles.

I didn't even have the strength left to cry.

I headed to my small room.

I dragged the old suitcase out from under the bed and shoved a few simple clothes into it.

I'd barely finished when an argument erupted outside.

My sister came down the stairs and tore into the butler, finger pointed right at his nose.

"Why does Luca get one more bodyguard than me? That's not fair!"

The butler, sweating bullets, bowed his head and tried desperately to explain.

"Miss, the district the young master oversees has had multiple crimes recently. The risk level is higher, so..."

"I don't care!" Her voice pitched higher, cutting him off without mercy.

"We agreed on absolute fairness. Not one less!"

Father walked over, coat draped on his shoulders, brows knitted tight.

After hearing her complaint, he crouched down and soothed her in a low voice:

"Sophia, that was Daddy's oversight. Daddy apologizes."

Then he turned to the butler and said coldly:

"Doesn't Lily still have a bodyguard? Give that one to Sophia."

"She only ever stays in the estate anyway. Nothing worth protecting."

The moment those words landed, the hallway went quiet for a few seconds. The argument fizzled out.

My sister smiled smugly and clicked her heels back to her room.

Father and the butler shook their heads with a laugh and left the living room.

Only me. Standing at the peephole, trembling all over.

She only stays in the estate.

Nothing worth protecting.

But if I hadn't been lucky, I would have died out there just now.

A wave of sorrow washed over me.

The truth was, I'd known for a long time. In this family, I was the wound Father refused to mention.

Since I was small, Father had been cold to me.

He would cradle my brother and sister in his arms with endless affection, yet he would never even look me in the eye.

Whenever I tried to get close, to hold his hand, he would instinctively pull away and walk off without looking back.

The butler told me my mother died in childbirth having me. After that, Father never remarried.

All these years, I'd fought so hard, trying to earn even the smallest bit of recognition.

I'd even thrown myself in front of a blade for Father during an assassination.

And still, their prejudice never washed clean.

Because I always reminded Father of my mother.

Because I was a born "sinner."

...

I took a deep breath and buried the bitterness down deep.

I kept telling myself. Just three more days. That's all.