Chapter 3

On the day of Eleanor's funeral, Zoe forced herself to go to the funeral home alone.

The moment she entered, she stopped dead.

The hall's black-and-white mourning decorations had been replaced with crimson silk, and pairs of red candles stood where the white ones should have been. Beside Eleanor's memorial portrait hung a photograph of an unfamiliar man.

Then Zoe recognized him.

He was the hit-and-run driver responsible for the accident that had destroyed Eleanor's dream of performing onstage.

Her head rang, and her entire body began to shake uncontrollably. Rage overwhelmed her. With bloodshot eyes, she charged straight toward Natalie, only for Yale to step between them and yank her to the floor.

Natalie immediately clung to his sleeve, trembling with apparent fear as tears streamed down her face.

"I just wanted Mrs. Carter to have someone to keep her company. My father raised me all by himself, and he was a good, honest man. I never meant to upset her or hurt her feelings."

Yale frowned and pulled her into his arms, gently patting her back.

"There's nothing to cry about, Natalie. You were trying to do something good. If your professor had even half your sense, she'd understand how much thought you put into this. She should be thanking you for being so considerate of Eleanor."

Zoe lay on the floor, blood seeping from her scraped palms as she listened to them twist everything beyond recognition.

The pain seemed to seep into her very bones, spreading until it consumed her. She didn't even have the strength to cry anymore.

After a long moment, a bitter laugh escaped her lips.

She forced herself up, took down Eleanor's portrait, and gathered her ashes.

Then, abandoning all restraint, Zoe overturned the altar in a frenzy. The candles toppled onto the crimson silk covering the floor, and flames immediately shot upward.

Natalie panicked and rushed toward her father's photograph on the altar.

"Dad! Dad!"

Zoe seized the opportunity to grab her wrist. Pressing a shard of broken glass against Natalie's lower back, she spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Shut up! Your father was a hit-and-run driver, and you're a homewrecker. Like father, like daughter!"

Yale's fists clenched, the veins at his temples bulging with fury.

"Let Natalie go! Her heartless mother abandoned her, and her father had to raise her alone. He's been through enough! You should consider yourself lucky that your mother gets to be with a man like him!"

Zoe ignored him. Her gaze was fixed on Natalie's struggling hand, specifically the diamond bracelet around her wrist.

It was Eleanor's bracelet, a keepsake she'd left to Zoe.

"Take off that bracelet." Zoe pressed the glass harder against Natalie's back, her voice cold and firm.

Blood began to seep through Natalie's clothes.

At the sight, Yale's eyes widened with desperation.

"I'm begging you, Zoe. Let Natalie go. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you!"

Zoe froze.

Yale had once been beaten within an inch of his life without bowing his head to anyone. Yet now, for Natalie, he was willingly swallowing his pride and begging.

A sharp ache pierced Zoe's heart.

As she reached for the bracelet, a dagger suddenly came flying through the air.

The blade sliced into her arm, sending an explosion of pain through her. Blood gushed from the wound, and her arm went numb. The bracelet slipped from her fingers and struck the floor, shattering into pieces.

Yale took advantage of her momentary distraction. He rushed forward, swept Natalie into his arms, and carried her away without giving Zoe another glance.

The fire spread rapidly, filling the funeral hall with thick smoke.

Struggling against the choking fumes, Zoe groped around the floor, desperately searching for the broken pieces of Eleanor's bracelet.

Through her blurred vision, she saw a large hand reach down and grab her arm. Someone dragged her out of the burning hall.

Zoe collapsed onto the ground outside, blood still pouring from the cut on her arm. Her knees were scraped raw and bleeding from being dragged across the floor.

Suddenly, an entire bottle of ice-cold soda was poured over her head.

The liquid seeped into her open wounds, triggering such sharp, unbearable pain that her body convulsed and even her fingertips trembled.

Yale, meanwhile, was holding Natalie's hand, gently blowing on her palm where the skin had reddened from twisting open the bottle cap.

"Leave things like this to me from now on."

A vicious glint flashed through Natalie's seemingly innocent eyes, though her voice remained soft and sweet.

"I just saw how dry and cracked Zoe's lips were from the heat of the fire. I was so worried about her that I wanted to give her something to drink myself..."

Yale gently flicked her forehead, his tone a mixture of reproach and helpless affection.

"I know you have a good heart, Natalie, but someone like her doesn't deserve your kindness."

Then he turned toward Zoe.

Meeting her unwavering gaze, he ordered in a low voice, "Guards! Take her back to the confinement room. Make sure she learns her lesson!"

Zoe struggled to lift her head, only to watch helplessly as one of the approaching bodyguards kicked Eleanor's urn.

Then countless feet trampled through the ashes and over her memorial portrait.

"Mom!"

Her anguished scream was lost in the wind.

A sharp blow struck the back of her neck, knocking her unconscious.

Everything went black.