Chapter 3

The next evening, at the Vance family estate.

A massive family portrait hung in the center of the living room: Chloe hugging her mother and my father, beaming with radiant happiness.

My mother and I were entirely erased, as if we had never existed.

Guests whispered around the room:

"How does she have the nerve to show her face? Her mother disgraced the family with that cheating scandal years ago, and now she slanders Chloe online. Like mother, like daughter."

"Damian and Chloe are truly meant for each other. Just look at them."

I turned and saw Chloe walking in on Damian’s arm.

A swarm of paparazzi followed them, cameras flashing and microphones thrust in my face.

"Julianna," Damian commanded, "in front of everyone, apologize to Chloe. Admit you wrote that comment out of jealousy."

Chloe’s eyes welled with tears instantly:

"Julianna, I never thought you'd hate me this much... It was your mother who cheated back then, so why take it out on me...?"

Before she could finish, Lana charged out from the crowd.

She pointed an accusatory finger at my nose, wailing loudly for the press:

"Everyone, see the truth! Her mother slept around behind my husband's back, got pregnant with another man's bastard, and jumped off a building out of guilt! Now this girl is smearing my daughter! How can anyone be so wicked?!"

SLAP!

I struck Lana across the face with all the strength I had left.

My vision burned red:

"Don't you dare... slander my mother again!"

"Who was the one that spread lies and drove my mother to death? Do you have the guts to go to the police station and settle this under oath?!"

The entire room gasped.

Chloe’s face stiffened. She hoisted her skirt and abruptly fell to her knees before me.

"Julianna, I'm sorry... it's all my fault..."

"I was the one who caught your mom in bed with Uncle Arthur. You pulled a knife and threatened to kill me if I spoke up... but truth can't be hidden forever..."

As she spoke, she deliberately pulled back her sleeve, exposing a scar on her wrist.

A scar she had carved into her own flesh.

The crowd erupted in outrage.

Damian looked at me, his eyes filled with undisguised disappointment.

Crack!

A brutal blow sent me crashing to the floor. Blood welled in the corner of my mouth, and my ears rang deafeningly.

It was my father, Arthur Vance.

He loomed over me, his face twisted in pure disgust:

"You ungrateful wretch! Apologize to your sister and mother right now!"

Years ago, my mother had knelt before him, desperately trying to explain, and he had looked at her with that exact same look of disgust.

That was what drove my mother over the edge.

"My mother... was murdered by you!" I choked out.

He roared, "Your mother was a whore! Apologize right now!"

Holding my throbbing cheek, I glared up at him.

"N-Never!"

Arthur kicked the back of my knee. My legs buckled, and I crashed down hard before Chloe.

My kneecaps slammed against the marble floor with a sickening thud.

A tearing pain ripped through my abdomen, spreading like fire to every nerve in my body.

Chloe wept dramatically:

"Dad, don't be too harsh on Julianna..."

Damian supported Chloe, his voice icy and commanding:

"Julianna, apologize to Chloe now. Stop making a scene!"

I lifted my head and met his cold gaze.

Three years ago, when his family rivals kidnapped him and threw him into an abandoned freezer on the outskirts of the city, I went in alone to save him. I took six stab wounds for him.

I spent three days in the ICU clinging to life.

Back then, he swore before the entire Pierce family:

"Julianna Vance is my life. I will marry no one else, and I will never let her suffer another day."

And now?

He was forcing me to kneel before the very daughter of the woman who destroyed my family, demanding that I beg for their forgiveness.

Chloe leaned down, whispering in my ear with a sinister smirk:

"Julianna, Damian already found a matching donor heart for your grandmother. But if I tell the hospital it's canceled... how long do you think that trash-picking old hag will last?"

I glared at her, my voice trembling with rage:

"Don't you dare touch her!"

At that exact moment, the smartwatch on my wrist—synced to my grandmother's vital signs—began vibrating frantically.