My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him.

Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad.

My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place.

Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

Disgraced Heiress

The moment I was tossed onto the road for everyone to see, I became the butt of everyone's joke.

The real heiress of the Marlins—that was me—got into a fight with the fake daughter, and my parents froze my cards as punishment. In a fit of rage, I left home. It seemed like an act of bold defiance, but I had to take out illegal loans, and I failed to pay them back.

And thanks to that, I was tortured. The story flew through high society like it had wings. Somehow, they found out where I was left and gathered around me, taking my pictures without a care in the world.

Unlike the old me, I did not scream or tell everyone to get lost. I didn't try to save the scraps of my dignity. It was gone. The loan sharks eroded it a long time ago.

The moment they made me go on my knees and slap myself, I stopped caring about things like dignity or appearances. The proud, haughty, troublemaking Yvonne Marlin was dead.

Her killers? The Marlins and Lawrence Seinfield. They destroyed what pride I had.

Then, a fleet of black SUVs came zooming onto the scene. The onlookers—all daughters of rich families—scattered. The leading vehicle seemed almost humble, but I knew who was inside—Lawrence, my fiance.

I looked at the car in silence and turned around. I wanted to leave, but then a man in a suit came out. He hurried over to me, but when he saw what I looked like, it surprised him.

I knew I was haggard, to say the least. I was in a black dress for my grandfather's funeral, and it was covered in filth. My right hand was full of bruises. Bruises I got from those loan sharks stomping on it.

A dirty glove covered my left hand, and my feet had no shoes covering them. My toes were red and swollen. The loan sharks grabbed my ankle and slammed my toes into the stairs. It hurt. A lot.

The man looked down with sympathy in his eyes. Or at least I thought it was sympathy. Politely, he said, "Mr. Seinfield is waiting for you, Ms. Marlin."

I hung my head low, refusing to look at Lawrence's secretary. I mumbled, "I can walk by myself." I went past the secretary.

The secretary was shocked. Everyone knew I thought of Lawrence as my personal messiah, and I'd been hanging around him for five years. Even if he ignored me, I'd try my best to get close to him.

Or that was what happened in the past. Now? He was nothing more than a fearsome beast I wanted to get away from. Naturally, the sudden change shocked the secretary.

"Yvonne!" A husky voice spoke, and it made me stop.

The secretary noticed my eyes. They were red and proof that I had cried. Even so, he only hesitated for a moment before pointing me to the car.

I dragged my exhausted body and ignored the secretary, who obviously wanted to talk to me, and I trudged into the car.

Yep, Lawrence was inside, just as I had expected. He did not even care about why or how I looked like I just got out of a torture chamber. Instead, he frowned.

Displeased, he asked, "It's only been two weeks. You're reduced to a lowly beggar now?"

His mockery did not hit me like it used to. I wasn't even disappointed about his blatant ignoring of my bruises. I kept my head low and said, "Sorry."

I never wanted to take out any illegal loans. I was duped into it. I never wanted to be tortured, nor would I have asked to slap myself. Did he think I wanted to be tied to a wall like a dog and lick up scraps from the ground? I never wanted to! They forced me!

Retching

But I didn't want them digging up my grandfather's coffin either.

Lawrence paused for a moment. He looked at me and praised, "So Yvette's idea worked. You are more docile now."

Before the Marlins found me, Yvette Marlin was the one who lived in my place. Yvette's grandfather was the only family I knew before that fateful day. Her father died at a construction site, so his wife tossed me to Yvette's grandfather and went MIA.

I didn't wonder why he brought up Yvette. Lawrence beckoned me like he would a dog. "Come here."

I was in the spot furthest away from Lawrence, and I didn't even spare him a single look after I got into the car. All of a sudden, I was very interested in the rug underneath. I did not do as he said. I refused to.

That only made him sterner. "I said, come here."

I did not answer. I tensed my back, trying my best to save my crumbling dignity, even though it was gone the moment I begged for mercy from my tormentors.

My silence infected the air. Lawrence wasn't used to this kind of quiet, or he probably didn't want to wait, so he extended his arm and got closer to me.

My back tensed further the moment he extended his arm, but I was already backed to the window. There was nowhere else I could go.

The moment he held my arm, my nose was assailed by the stench of alcohol. That brought up some memories.

I did something wrong, and my parents took away my cards. Furious, I stormed off and went to my grandpa's place.

My grandfather was seriously ill by the time I got there. Without a single cent to my name, I had no choice but to call my parents, yet I couldn't get through.

Then, some rich kids from Astonia showed up, looking gleeful and mischievous. "I heard you need money, Ms. Marlin? How about you get on your knees and grovel to us? Maybe we'll lend you some cash if we feel like it."

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Grandpa coughing on his bed, and every cough seemed to take everything he had. Sometimes he'd even spit out chunks of blood.

I went down on my knees without hesitation. The room was quiet, save for the sounds of my groveling. I did it so hard, my forehead was still hurting.

When I was done, the rich kids laughed and tossed me a grand total of fifty dollars. "That's how much you're worth, Ms. Marlin. Mr. Seinfield's words, not ours." They left happily.

I had no choice but to take out a loan from the loan sharks, but my grandfather died in the end, anyway. He didn't get treated in time.

When I was done with the funeral, it was time to pay up. I called Lawrence and asked for a loan, but he sneered and hung up.

These memories suffocated me, and goosebumps appeared on the arm Lawrence was holding. It didn't feel like a hand was holding my arm. No, it was more like a serpent coiling its slimy body around me. I could feel my heart freezing up.

My head started to spin. Nausea caught up to me, and I wanted to hurl. I swung Lawrence's hand off and bent over, my hand clutching the front seat.

I held my neck with my gloved hand and started to retch, but nothing came out. Of course. I barely had anything to eat the last few days.

Even so, Lawrence covered his nose with a tissue and looked at me with disgust. "Yvonne!" he warned.

I ignored him and kept on retching until I shook off that urge to vomit.

Lawrence's veins were starting to throb. I knew that look. He was on the edge of exploding. I did not try to play dumb like I used to. He would not tolerate that kind of behavior from me.

My body was weakened, and I was wobbling. I kept my head down, and my hand was still holding the front seat, though it was shaking.

Back Home

"Sorry, I… I'll clean it up. I'll take a seat in the car behind us. Sorry I, uh, sorry I dirtied the place."

Lawrence stopped moving again and looked at me suspiciously. A tense moment later, he extended his hand and tried to check my temperature.

The sight of his encroaching hand made me freeze. I knew I shouldn't move away, or it would make him mad. I used to worry about making him mad. Every time he got angry, he would mock me relentlessly like I was the most worthless thing in the world.

It was embarrassing and heartbreaking for me. I remained stiffly in my seat, but I told myself not to move away.

However, the moment his fingers touched me, I had that feeling of a slimy serpent coiling itself around my body again, and I dodged his touch.

Lawrence's hand froze in midair. He was looking at me, and I could sense his impatience and frustration. My head was starting to spin again.

I shook my head, but he was gone. In his place was my grandfather, bedridden and hooked up to all kinds of machines.

The hospital stopped my grandfather's treatment because I failed to get a loan and pay the bills. I was kneeling beside my grandfather, crying in an ugly manner.

It took my grandfather everything he had just to say something, but he forced a smile and asked, "How are they treating you, sweetheart?"

I covered my face and sobbed my heart out. Even though my parents cared about Yvette more than they did about me, even though Yvette was hostile toward me for some reason, even though Lawrence despised me, and even though no one liked me at all, through my sobs, I replied, "They've been treating me great."

My grandfather extended his hand, trying to pat me. "You found your family, sweetheart. A loving one."

Before I could get closer to him, he closed his eyes. Forever.

I blinked, and a drop of tear fell.

Lawrence wanted to scold me, but he swallowed his words and looked at me. In the end, he said nothing and coolly told the driver to drive away.

I wiped my tears with my sleeve and curled up in the corner, trying my best to stay inconspicuous. Everything around me was blurry. I hugged my legs, thinking, 'If only Lawrence had helped me, Grandpa could've been saved. I could've never taken out that loan. This mess could've never happened.'

Yeah, if only.

The car came to a stop, but the inertia pushed me ahead, and I bumped my head against the back of the front seat. My wound—now with scabs—threatened to rip open again.

Lawrence took a glance at me. "What's with your forehead?"

I covered my forehead and said nothing. All I did was shake my head.

He didn't press further. Lawrence got out of the car and left me to my devices as he strode into the Marlins' estate.

I got into the house and wanted to get upstairs and jump into the shower. When I was undressing myself, I took off the tattered glove, revealing my left hand. There were no wounds, but my pinky was bent at an unnatural angle.

I did it to myself. I broke it, and my tormentors laughed in glee before they would give me some scraps.

This was also a reminder of my experience. This was something I would carry with me all my life to remind me I must stay vigilant. Always.

I took a shower, changed into clean clothes, put on my glove, and went back downstairs.

It was time for dinner. My mother couldn't believe I was back. She waved at me and grumbled, "Where have you been? You couldn't even call us?"

I thought this was a little unfair to me. Just when I was about to talk to my mother, someone interrupted us.

"How do I look, Mom?" Yvette came fluttering down like some kind of fairy. She was in a dress I'd never seen before.