Kelsey's POV

I held my stinging cheek where she slapped me. Blood was still seeping from the cut on my wrist, soaking into the sleeve of my black sweater. But neither Francis nor Mom noticed a thing.

Pain twisted in my chest as my eyes welled up with tears. They spilled down my face, one after another. I felt utterly hopeless.

“Mom,” I said, voice trembling. “You asked me to stand in for Belinda and lure out that stalker. I did what you said. You promised I’d be safe. But when I was being tortured and begging for help, where were you? Now that I’m luckily alive, you're accusing me of setting the whole thing up?”

Realizing that, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

But my mother’s expression darkened. Furious, she slapped me again, harder this time.

“You’re just an adopted daughter. Don’t even think about fighting Belinda for this family’s wealth. I know what you’re up to. Don’t think I can’t see that you were behind that stalker!”

As her third slap came flying, I caught her wrist mid-air and yanked it away with force.

What I didn’t expect was for her to stumble on her heels and fall straight into the doorway.

Right then, Francis and Belinda walked in and saw everything.

“Mom!” Belinda shrieked.

Francis, on the other hand, glared at me and snapped, “Kelsey! What the hell are you doing?!”

Then they rushed to her side and helped her up, settling her onto the couch.

The next moment, Belinda stormed over and slapped me hard across the face.

“We took you in when you had no one and made you part of our family, and this is how you repay us? You’re nothing but a thankless snake.”

“How could you?” Francis added, voice quivering with righteous anger. “She’s your mother! So what if she didn’t give birth to you? She raised you for years! How could you hurt her like that? I’m so disappointed in you.”

Both of them glared at me, convinced I’d pushed Mom on purpose.

I clenched my fists so tightly that blood started pooling in my palms, but the pain in my heart hurt far more.

“I didn’t push her. I just knocked her arm away. I didn’t know she’d fall,” I explained.

Mom moaned from the couch. She could hear the two berating me, yet she didn’t say a word to defend me.

Having no one on my back, I stood there crying, trying to explain myself over and over again.

Finally, maybe just tired of the noise, she spoke. “Enough. I’m fine. Don’t starve Belinda or the baby. Go cook dinner.”

Without a word, Francis pulled me by the arm and dragged me into the kitchen. His eyes held no trace of the warmth he once had for me, just coldness and annoyance.

He leaned in close and muttered sharply, “Kelsey, I don’t want anything happening to this baby. Do you understand?”

Without a word, I blinked back tears and cooked a full dinner for them.

But just as I was about to take off my apron and sit down, Francis stopped me.

“Stay standing and help serve Belinda. She’s pregnant. She can’t reach for things easily. Help her get the food.”

Hearing the latter's words, my mother shot me a smug look and chimed in with a satisfied smile, “Francis’s right. You’re the older sister. You should take care of your little sister, especially now that she’s expecting a baby. Do your part.”

I held back the anger bubbling in my chest, my face stiff as I stood behind Belinda, silently watching.

The bitterness in my nose stung. I watched Francis gently serve food onto her plate, and my heart sank.

I remembered when he used to cook just for me and how he said my hands were too delicate for anything other than painting.

But now, he was forcing me to cook for someone else, like I was a maid. He had forgotten everything he once promised me.

Then came a soft clatter.

Belinda had dropped her chopsticks.

She looked at me with an innocent expression and said sweetly, “Oops. Sorry, Kelsey. I didn’t hold them properly. Could you pick them up for me?”

Having no intention of doing what she asked, I didn’t move. I looked at the chopsticks on the floor first, then said flatly, “I’ll get you a new pair.”

But she pouted and tilted her head.

“Just pick them up and rinse them. What’s the big deal? Don’t tell me you don’t want to help me.”

I hesitated for a moment, then finally crouched down to grab them.

But before I could reach them, she deliberately stepped on my hand and pressed down hard.

I hissed in pain as the wound on my wrist tore open again, blood gushing out, warm and immediate.

Kelsey's POV

Cold sweat broke out across my body from the pain. I tried to pull my hand away, but Belinda didn’t budge. In fact, she pressed down even harder.

Unable to take it anymore, I shoved her just to free my hand. But she stumbled backward and fell to the floor, clutching her belly and crying out in pain.

Seeing that, Francis rushed over and immediately helped her up, his face full of panic.

“Belinda! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

Before he could accuse me, I immediately lifted my injured hand and explained, “Look! She stepped on my hand! That’s why I pushed her!”

“So she accidentally stepped on your hand. That gives you the right to push her like that? You know she’s pregnant!” he roared, not caring about the truth, as all he could see was Belinda clinging to his arm like a frightened child.

Then my mother slammed her hand on the table and glared at me.

“Filth like you will never change. If I’d known this is how you’d turn out, I never would’ve adopted you. A woman who abandons a child at an orphanage is trash, and trash like that only gives birth to more trash.”

Her sharp words and Francis's indifferent attitude made my entire body tremble with rage and humiliation.

I clenched my fists under the table, and the years of pent-up pain and frustration exploded all at once.

“I told you, she stepped on my hand first! You keep calling me petty, but look at yourselves. You’ve never treated me fairly!”

Tears streamed down my face as I shouted, my voice cracking with emotion.

“My whole life, I was just Belinda’s accessory. When she hit me, insulted me, I wasn’t even allowed to fight back. When I did better in school, you forced me to teach her until she surpassed me. Did you ever treat me like your daughter?”

With a face twisted with rage, she snapped, “Ungrateful brat! Letting you grow up in this house was a mercy! You were unwanted in the first place. You have no right to compare yourself to my daughter!”

I staggered back, clutching my arm. Just as I tried to speak again, Belinda stepped up and slapped me hard across the face.

“Watch your mouth when you talk to my mom. If being in my family is such torture for you, then leave.”

Francis quickly pulled her into his arms, gently soothing her. “Belinda, don’t get worked up. She’s clearly lost her mind. Just ignore her. She’s not worth it. Let’s finish lunch with your mom, alright?”

Then he turned back to me, grabbed my arm, and dragged me into the bedroom.

Once the door shut behind us, his gentle act vanished.

“I told you to take care of Belinda. Why can’t you just stay out of trouble?”

He crouched slightly to look at me, his tone cold and accusing. “You’re hurt and didn’t say a word. What’s the plan here? Trying to guilt-trip me?”

I turned my body to hide my injured arm, my heart sinking even deeper.

Now he noticed the wound?

I couldn’t help but let out a dry, bitter laugh.

“Let me bandage it,” he offered flatly.

“Don’t bother,” I coldly refused.

His brows creased with irritation. He clearly didn’t like being rejected.

“Fine. Then just stay in the room. Wait until Belinda and your mom finish eating. Then you can go get something from the kitchen.”

When the door closed behind him, I collapsed onto the bed, completely drained.

The pain in my arm made me tremble.

If he were his old self, he would’ve rushed me to the hospital at the first sign of a scraped knee, even in the middle of a thunderstorm.

But now, even with a deep wound, all I got was a cold, distant offer just for the sake of appearances.

All his tenderness was saved for Belinda.

The next day, the injury started to swell and throb. I was worried about infection, so I went to the hospital.

While waiting to be treated, I heard two women whispering behind me.

“Isn’t that the girl from the photos? Her personal life is a mess. She might be here to get tested for HIV.”

“I think so, too. With those kinds of pictures online, what do you expect?”

Overhearing their conversation, I didn’t know for sure if they were talking about me.

After I finished getting the wound cleaned and bandaged, my phone rang.

It was my best friend.

“Kelsey, you need to check our college group chat and your work group, too. Someone just posted a ton of... personal photos of you.”

Kelsey's POV

My heart dropped, and I fumbled to unlock my phone. The moment the group chat opened, I nearly blacked out.

Dozens, maybe hundreds, of my private photos were flooding the screen.

And people were already gossiping openly.

[Wow, never thought Kelsey would be that type. Always acted like a cold goddess, but turns out she plays dirty behind closed doors.]

Shaking, I typed a message into the chat. [Where did you all get those photos?]

Instantly, the group chat fell silent.

Not a single reply came, not in that group or even in my work chat.

Ten minutes later, my class president finally messaged me back.

[Your photos aren’t just in those two groups. They’ve been shared all over. Someone’s even selling the high-res ones for a buck each.]

My stomach turned.

Every ounce of hope I had crumbled.

In the photos, Francis’s face had been blurred intentionally. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if it was him who leaked them.

I dialed his number, but no answer.

So, I tried again and again.

By the fifth call, it went straight to voicemail, signaling his phone was off.

As such, I covered my face and left the hospital, heading straight to his office.

In the underground parking lot, I finally found him with Belinda.

Her clothes were disheveled, and Francis had his hand tightly gripped around her bare shoulder. Their bodies pressed close, lips moving in rhythm, lost in each other.

I ducked behind a pillar, frozen, listening to their breathless moans.

Then Belinda spoke, her voice soft and sticky-sweet. “When our baby’s born, do you really expect me to keep being your secret lover? I don’t want my child calling Kelsey mommy.”

“Of course not,” Francis whispered back, his voice low and indulgent. “She’s just your family’s adopted girl. She could never be worthy of being my wife. The only reason I’ve kept her around this long was to keep her calm. After all, she’s been with me for years. Though she's not that of great help, she's still somehow provided some of my needs. But don't worry, once the baby’s here, I’ll find a reason to dump her.”

Belinda giggled and leaned into him, her voice almost teasing. “She can indeed provide some needs. That's why I shared that with people who needed it. Can’t wait to see her reaction.”

Francis playfully tapped her nose and curiously asked, “Share what?”

“Nothing important,” she answered with a coy smile. “Anyway, I’m starving. Weren’t we meeting Mr. Nicholson for dinner?”

Afterward, they left, and my legs gave out.

I collapsed to the ground like my soul had been ripped from my body.

In that moment, I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or scream. All those years we'd been together turned out to be a joke.

I sat there for half an hour until my legs had gone numb. When I finally stood, leaning against the wall for support, my phone buzzed.

It was Francis.

“My phone died, and I have no signal. I didn’t know you were calling. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I emotionlessly replied.

“If it’s nothing, then meet me at the Urban Luxe Suites. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

I didn’t know why he wanted me there. He was supposed to be meeting a business partner with Belinda, so why did he ask me to be there?

But with everything happened to me, I can sit still.

I arrived at the hotel in under thirty minutes, and when I walked into the private room, Francis and Mr. Nicholson were already deep into their drinks.

Belinda, avoiding alcohol because of her pregnancy, was cozying up to Mr. Nicholson with compliments and a contract in hand.

When she saw me, her eyes immediately lit up.

“Kelsey! Francis had a bit too much, and Mr. Nicholson’s still in party mode. Could you keep him company for a while?”

“I don’t drink,” I replied flatly.

Francis slumped into Belinda’s arms, slurring something about going home. She giggled and smoothed his hair, completely covering his words.

“Come on,” Belinda coaxed again, pretending to be sweet. “Just one drink for Mr. Nicholson’s sake. Then we’ll all leave, I promise.”

I hesitated. But before I could decide, Mr. Nicholson had already lifted a glass to my lips.

“Just one drink, and I’ll sign the contract right after,” he said.

I believed him and took the glass. I closed my eyes, and, in one go, I swallowed it empty.

I thought that was it. After one drink, he would sign the contract, and then I could leave.

But the second I finished, Mr. Nicholson grinned widely and grabbed my arm, dragging me down beside him.

“Now we’re talking! You’ve gotta drink a few more with me tonight.”

And just like that, he signed his name on the contract.

“See? Easy. Now just stay a little longer. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”