Chapter 3

"She felt so guilty she cried until morning. She even made you soup to apologize. Can't you at least—"

I turned, picked up the bowl, and poured it onto the floor in front of him.

The dark liquid flowed over the toes of his shoes.

Damian looked up sharply, his eyes bloodshot. "When did you become like this, Rowan? Cold, cruel, and completely without compassion."

"This is my home."

I gave him a faint smile. "Damian, get out."

He stared at me, lips moving soundlessly, as if I had struck him.

A cane cut through the air behind me.

A heavy blow landed across my back, and pain burst through my bones.

My father's voice came from above me. "Who gave you permission to speak to Damian that way? Get on your knees."

I gritted my teeth and tried to rise, but a large hand pressed down on the back of my neck.

My rain-soaked body shook with cold. I barely had enough strength left to form a fist.

My father looked down at me. "Look at yourself. Covered in mud and behaving like a lunatic. Is that how a Hawke heiress carries herself? Serena has a hundred times more sense than you."

I lay on the floor with the picture frame locked against my chest.

"You're just as tiresome as your dead mother."

His voice was ice. "No judgment. No restraint. All either of you knew how to do was cry and make scenes."

The door opened. A woman slipped her arm through my father's and said gently, "Vincent, don't be so hard on the child."

Vivian Cole looked down at me with false apology. "I could never compare to Rowan's mother. She came from an old family, while I'm nobody. Serena cannot compare to Rowan either. At least I understand that much."

Damian frowned and suddenly said, "Don't belittle yourself. Serena is intelligent, considerate, and knows how to behave. That's more than can be said for people who only know how to cause trouble."

I lay there feeling as if a hand had crushed my heart.

Once, when I broke my father's vase, Damian had stepped in front of me and said, "I knocked it over."

When Serena humiliated me in public, he had gripped my hand and challenged everyone around us. "I'll protect her exactly as she is. None of you get a vote."

When relatives mocked me to my face, he had shielded me and smiled lazily. "I spoiled her. Take your complaints to me."

Now he protected someone else and called me troublesome.

"Get up."

My father gave the order coldly. "Apologize to Serena. She is your sister. If you cannot show basic decency toward her, you do not deserve to call yourself a Hawke."

I slowly lifted my head, a smile pulling at my mouth.

"You cheated before your wedding and conned your way into Mom's family."

I met his eyes and spoke each word clearly. "You were never worthy to stand beside her."

The cane rose, and his open hand came down with it.

My vision went black. Fire exploded across one side of my face, and my ears rang.

Damian's hand lifted instinctively, then stopped before reaching me.

"This is my fault. I never should have come here."

Serena suddenly burst into tears. "I'm only an illegitimate daughter. Maybe I should die. I never belonged here, and everyone hates me..."

She turned and ran from the room.

Damian immediately chased her. "Rena, wait!"

Silence settled over the living room.

My father struck the floor with his cane. "Handle her according to the family rules."

He looked at Vivian. "Stay and supervise. Teach her that Hawke Estate is not a place where she can do whatever she wants."

Vivian answered softly, "Of course," and sat beside the couch.

By the time the twentieth strike landed, I could no longer feel my legs.

Blood from my back glued my clothes to my skin, and every movement tore the wounds open again.

Fever blurred my thoughts into a thick haze.

Through it, I saw my mother reaching toward me.