At seven in the evening, the villa glowed with bright light. I wore an apron as I carried the freshly cooked braised short ribs out of the kitchen.
Daniel sat on the couch and peeled an apple for Morgan. The scene of mother and son bonding felt painfully ironic.
“Mom, have some fruit.”
Morgan wore a dark green dress and a strand of round pearls around her neck.
She did not take the apple. Her gaze moved past Daniel and landed on me.
“Daniel, why is this thing you keep around still here?”
I lowered my eyes and placed the dish on the dining table. I knelt at the coffee table with my hands folded in front of me. “Hello, Mrs. Cardea.”
Morgan let out a cold laugh. She stood up, and her heels struck the marble floor in a sharp rhythm.
She walked up to me and looked me over. “Still reeks of poverty. It is only because Daniel is kind‑hearted that he took pity on you and threw you a few scraps. You do not think wearing a few designer labels can change what you are, do you?”
Daniel stayed on the couch and took a slow bite of the apple.
He enjoyed watching me belittled. He believed that if I was pushed low enough, I would cling to him more.
“Mom, Mira is very obedient.” Daniel spoke in a light tone.
“Obedient. I have seen many people like her.”
Morgan picked up the cup of hot tea from the table.
I wanted to move away, but Daniel’s cold gaze warned me to stay still.
In the past, I would have avoided it to lessen the pain. At that moment, I believed it no longer mattered.
This body would be gone in a few days. One more injury made no difference.
The tea splashed onto my chest and arms. The wool sweater absorbed the heat and clung to my skin. A sharp pain spread across the area.
I let out a quiet sound and bit my lip to keep from crying out.
Morgan covered her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. “My hand slipped. Ms. Lowe, you are not upset, are you?”
Tears filled my eyes, but I did not let them fall.
“It is fine, Mrs. Cardea. I should not have been in the way.”
Daniel walked over and lifted my arm to look at the red skin. He frowned, but not out of concern.
“What a shame. Her skin is damaged. It will not feel the same anymore.”
He turned to Morgan with a helpless smile. “Mom, use cold water next time. And this rug came from overseas. It is very hard to clean.”
In that moment, something inside me broke. It was not dignity, because that had disappeared long ago. It was the last small piece of hope I held for this world.
This was the man I had loved, feared, and tried to understand. On his scale, my pain and his rug held the same weight.
Morgan waved her hand. “Enough. Stop being an eyesore.
“Go wash up. Do not let that poverty of yours touch my son.”
I lowered my head and stepped back as if released from a sentence.
As I walked toward the bathroom, I heard Morgan say behind me, “Daniel, these playthings are fine for amusement, but Ms. Weston is back for her break. You should meet her.”
In the bathroom, I rinsed my red skin with cold water again and again. The woman in the mirror looked pale and drained.
The door opened suddenly. Morgan stepped inside and locked it behind her.
The small space felt even tighter. I pressed my back against the wall.
She washed her hands under the faucet, then pulled a check from her crocodile skin handbag and placed it on the counter.
“Here. Five million dollars. Take the money, leave Silverton, and stay away from my son.
“If you bother him again, I have many ways to make that father of yours in prison suffer.”
I stared at the check. The long string of zeros felt like a dark whirlpool.
Five million dollars was enough to clear my debt to Daniel, with money left over.
Three years earlier, I would have begged for this. Now, it was too late.
Daniel would never let me go.
Even if I ran to the ends of the earth, he would use the law, his connections, or the threat against my only living relative to drag me back.
He would break my legs and lock me in the basement.
It had happened before, two years earlier, when I believed I could escape.
I ran to the coast. My feet had already stepped onto a smuggling boat. That night, Daniel appeared behind me in the darkness.
He did not touch me. He sent my best friend, who helped me gather money to flee, to prison.
After he brought me back, he locked me in a basement with no sunlight for thirty days. In the darkness, he said one sentence to me each day.
“Mira, you see? Aside from me, whoever tries to save you will suffer.”
Those thirty days destroyed the Mira Lowe who wanted to escape alive. This time, I chose a different path.
I lifted my head and looked at Morgan without lowering myself.
“Mrs. Cardea, I do not want the money.”
“Not enough for you?”
I shook my head and gave a faint smile.
“No. You do not need to chase me away. In a few days, I will disappear from this world. Then you can introduce the finest heiresses to Mr. Cardea. I will not be an eyesore anymore.”
Morgan stared at me. A strange emotion flickered in her usually cold eyes.
She opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak, but footsteps sounded outside the door.
Her expression changed. She tucked the check away and returned to her usual harsh tone.
“Ungrateful girl.”
She pulled open the door and brushed past my shoulder as she left.
I leaned against the cold tile wall. My chest burned, yet my heart felt strangely light.
Only two more days.
In a daze, I noticed an old emerald bracelet Morgan had left on the counter.
The bracelet was dull in color with a faint crack along the edge. It did not match the expensive jewelry she usually wore.
I remembered an old photograph I had seen while organizing Daniel’s study. In a narrow alley, a young Morgan wore that same bracelet. A man with a stern face stood beside her and gripped her wrist. His gaze looked exactly like Daniel’s did now.
After Morgan left, the villa returned to its heavy silence. Only the wall clock ticked.
Daniel called me to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and held a tube of burn ointment.
“Come here.” He patted the space beside him.
I walked over and sat down.
He twisted off the cap and squeezed out clear ointment. He used his fingertips to apply it to the red skin on my chest.
The ointment felt cool. His fingers were warm. The mix of cold and heat made goosebumps rise on my skin.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
He pressed slightly on a blister. I trembled from the pain.
Daniel smiled with quiet satisfaction. He lowered his head and blew gently on the area. His breath brushed my skin and caused another shiver.
My gaze drifted to the faint scar on his wrist, left when he was ten years old.
I had learned from his journal that young Daniel once saw his father lock his mother in a storage room. His father had grabbed his face and said, “Women are all the same. A man has to hold a woman tight, or she will run.”
After his father died, Daniel inherited everything, including the need to control others.
As he applied the ointment, he said in a calm tone, “Mom is getting older, and her temper is not great. Be patient with her. You are my legal assistant, so you need professional standards. Patience is one of those standards.”
Yes. I had endured for three years.
I endured him tearing apart the evidence I had prepared before court and dismissing it as worthless just to see my defeated expression.
I endured him pushing me toward drunk clients at business dinners to shield him from their toasts, then stepping in like a savior when they crossed the line, so I would feel grateful.
It happened again and again.
He broke my self‑respect, then pieced it back together into the shape he wanted.
My voice felt hoarse when I finally spoke. “Mr. Cardea, I would like to request time off.”
Daniel’s fingers stopped. The air around us seemed to grow colder.
The smile behind his gold‑rimmed glasses faded. “Time off. For what.”
“The new year is almost here. The day after tomorrow, I want to visit my father.”
Even though my father had sold me, Daniel believed he was my weak spot. In Daniel’s eyes, that weakness proved I was still human.
Daniel stared at me for a long time. His gaze felt like an X‑ray, as if he wanted to look straight through me.
I did not look away. I met his gaze with a numb calm.
After a long silence, he smiled and pulled his hand back. He tossed the burn ointment onto the nightstand.
“Fine. Go. But you must return on February sixteenth. It is my birthday. I want you to give yourself to me as a gift.”
He leaned close to my ear, and his teeth brushed my earlobe. “You need to be clean and fresh.”
I pushed down the nausea in my stomach and nodded. “Okay.”
He did not need to worry. That day, I would give him a gift he would never forget.
A body in his bathtub on his birthday would ruin every plan he had. It might even become a stain on his perfect record that he could never erase.
It would be the last strike from me.
That night, Daniel slept deeply. He was a light sleeper and needed aromatherapy every night.
I added a small amount of sleep‑inducing essential oil to the diffuser.
I did not dare add much. He was sharp, and any change would alert him.
Once I confirmed he was asleep, I climbed out of bed carefully.
Barefoot, I moved to the study. I wanted to look one last time at what I was worth in this world.
I knew the safe’s password. It was his birthday. He never hid it from me.
The safe clicked open.
I took out the contract that sold me to him and read it under the moonlight.
Party B: Mira Lowe.
Party A: Daniel Cardea.
“If Party B breaches the contract, Party B must compensate Party A ten million dollars and bear all legal consequences.”
My fingers brushed the red thumbprint. I smiled without sound.
“Mira Lowe, you really were a fool.”
I placed the contract back exactly as it had been.
When I returned to the bedroom, Daniel rolled over. His arm reached out and pulled me into his embrace.
The digital calendar on the desk flickered. The time changed to 00:00.
Only two more days.
At that moment, Daniel’s phone lit up with a message from his secretary, Linda.
“Mr. Cardea, the venue for your February sixteenth birthday party has been confirmed.”
His venue was confirmed. My venue had been confirmed as well.