Part 2

“From now on, you’ll be sleeping in the back room. Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“What do you mean I have to sleep in the back room?” I shot back. “My room is here. And since the guest room is being used by your guests, Eva can stay in mine.”

For the first time, I didn’t back down.

Rowena’s expression shifted—sharper, darker, like something inside her had finally slipped its leash.

“I am the mistress of this house,” she said, each word pressed with authority. “Everything that happens here is my concern.”

Before I could react, her hand clamped around my arm.

Rough.

Far too rough for a body that had just endured chemotherapy.

“Let go—” I stumbled, but she didn’t care.

Rowena dragged me through the spotless, cold kitchen, pushed open the connecting door into the back kitchen, and kept pulling until we reached a small room—once used as a storage space—then shoved me inside.

I fell hard onto a thin mattress, barely fifteen centimeters thick. The force sent my head spinning, knocking the breath out of me.

“Ma’am!” Eva rushed over, her voice panicked as she dropped to her knees beside me and helped me sit up.

“From now on, you’ll stay here. Your nurse too.” Rowena paused, then added in an even colder tone, “And don’t you dare set foot in the front of the house without my permission.”

The door slammed.

A sharp ringing filled my ears as darkness swallowed the cramped three-by-three-meter room.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” Eva’s voice trembled.

I tried to steady my breathing.

But my body wouldn’t cooperate.

Cold sweat poured down my skin. My stomach churned violently—and before I could stop it, I leaned over and vomited beside me.

“Ma’am?!” Eva cried out, panicking. She fumbled through the dark until she found the switch.

The light snapped on, harsh and blinding, making my dizziness worse.

“Oh God…” she whispered. “We should go back to the hospital.”

I shook my head weakly, fighting the wave of vertigo that kept rising.

“I’m sorry…” I murmured weakly. Guilt pricked at me for vomiting in front of her, even though I knew she wouldn’t be disgusted. She was used to patients like me.

“Don’t apologize,” she cut in quickly. “I’m more worried something might happen to you. Should we go back to the hospital? Or should I call Miss Beaumont? She said that if—”

“No need.” My voice came out firmer this time, though still barely above a whisper.

Daisy Beaumont—my best friend. The only one I had, really. I already considered her family. If she found out how I was being treated on the very day of my last chemotherapy session—given her fiery temper—she would storm straight into the Pierce household without hesitation.

And I wasn’t ready to deal with the chaos that would follow.

“Don’t call her,” I whispered, almost pleading. “Don’t tell her what happened to me today.”

Eva nodded in understanding, though I could tell she wanted to do the exact opposite. She wanted to protect me—and for that, I was quietly grateful.

“I’m sorry,” I went on softly. “You had to see all of this… and endure this discomfort with me. But I promise, it’s only temporary.”

Eva shook her head at once.

“It’s alright, ma’am. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m used to living in all kinds of conditions. I’ve even stayed in places far worse than this.” She gave me a reassuring look. “You should focus on your health. Get some rest. Just tell me what you’d like to eat, and I’ll cook it for you.”

I drew in a slow breath, managing a faint smile, murmuring my thanks again for her care.

“I’m not hungry yet… maybe later, for dinner. I’d like some beef soup—something with a rich broth.”

Eva nodded without hesitation, and for a moment… the world felt a little quieter. A little steadier.

I didn’t know how long I slept. The medication dragged me into a deep, dreamless darkness.

And when I woke—

The sound of commotion from the kitchen greeted me.

I pushed myself up slowly and dragged my feet toward the back kitchen. And there—Amelia Pierce, my sister-in-law—stood in front of Eva, her expression sharp, her posture dripping with arrogance.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

They both turned at the same time.

“Your maid here,” Amelia said with a sneer, “was trying to make you beef soup.” She let out a small, mocking laugh. “Who do you think you are?”

Her eyes raked over me with open disdain. She didn’t even bother to hide the disgust on her face.

And in that moment, I felt like a beggar she was about to chase away.

“What do you mean, who am I?” I asked, confused. “I’m obviously—”

“—my sister-in-law?” she cut in, her tone dripping with contempt. “Do you still expect me to acknowledge you as that?” She placed her hands on her hips, chin lifted.

“What are you talking about?” I was genuinely at a loss.

What was wrong with the Pierce family today?

Just yesterday, everything had felt… normal. And now, it was as if every single one of them had turned against me.

“Amelia!”

The sharp call came from Rowena, who appeared at the doorway between the main kitchen and the back kitchen.

She stepped in, her gaze sweeping over the three of us before settling on the package of beef in Amelia’s hand.

“Oh,” she said softly, as though something had just clicked. “Does she want to eat beef?” Rowena asked.

Amelia nodded, her lips curled in clear displeasure.

A thin smile spread across Rowena’s face—one that sent a chill down my spine.

“Then let her,” she said lightly. “Give her a handful of beef to satisfy her throat. It’s the least luxury we can offer her.”

She pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer, snipped open the vacuum-sealed package, and without hesitation dumped a portion of the meat—no more than a fifth—onto the floor, her expression full of disdain.

The meat landed with a dull, soft thud.

“Go on,” she said, looking at me as if I were beneath her. “Take it, if you really want it.”

Then she nudged the meat across the floor with the tip of her shoe.

“Ah, damn it. My shoe’s dirty,” she muttered irritably.

Rowena placed the remaining meat back into the refrigerator and walked out.

I stood there, frozen.

My hand pressed against my chest.

It was tight.

Too tight.

Why…? What did I do wrong?

Why are they treating me like this?

Eva’s arms wrapped around me, warm and steady, pulling me back from the edge.

“Ma’am…” she whispered softly, patting my back in a soothing rhythm.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm inside me.

“You should leave this hell as soon as possible.” It wasn’t an order—just a quiet suggestion.

“But… why?” I asked, still unable to understand.

Eva gently took my arm and guided me to the small dining table in the corner. Without a word, she pulled out a chair for me.

I sank into it.

Weak.

As if every last bit of strength had drained out of me, along with the tears that never quite fell.

Eva poured a glass of warm water and added honey, her movements careful—almost as if she were tending to something fragile. Then she placed the glass into my trembling hands.

“Drink,” she murmured. “Try to calm yourself.”

I didn’t argue.

My fingers shook as I held the glass. The warmth brushed against my face, offering the faintest comfort amid the chaos I couldn’t make sense of.

I took a slow breath.

Then sipped.

Sweet.

Warm.

And for a moment… it soothed the raw ache in my throat.

But not the one in my chest.

“I… heard something,” Eva said, breaking the silence.

I lifted my gaze slowly. Her tone—her expression—said everything.

Hesitation.

And restrained anger.

“While you were asleep,” she continued after a pause that felt endless. “At first, I didn’t want to tell you. But after seeing how they treated you…” She stopped, her jaw tightening. “I can’t stay silent.”

My heart began to pound.

“What do you mean?” I asked quietly.

Her eyes met mine—serious, burning. She placed both hands over mine, gripping them tightly.

“I heard Mr. and Mrs. Pierce talking.”

I knew immediately who she meant—Dominic and Rowena.

“What were they talking about?” My voice was barely there.

Eva swallowed, as if the words were too heavy to carry.

“Sir… said he’s already arranged your divorce papers.”