Chapter 2

Before I was thrown into prison, I had shown them my prosthetic leg, just like I did today.

But they didn't believe me.

"You’re a professional dancer, Davis. If you were really crippled, you’d rather die than live like this. Stop faking it," Sophie had said back then.

To avenge Julian, Laura used her family connections to make sure I was thrown into a cell block with the most violent offenders.

Those inmates didn't dare to kill me, but they found every possible way to break me.

A dislocated jaw, a broken nose, parts of my scalp ripped off—that was my daily routine.

The prison doctor would patch me up just enough to keep me alive, only to throw me back into the pit. Over and over again.

Yet, the official reports sent to the guards always read: Inmate 44 is in perfect condition.

Now, the fact that I was standing here, breathing the fresh air, was a miracle in itself.

Suddenly, Maria grabbed me by my hair. Her fingers dug right into the spot where my scalp hadn't fully healed. I clenched my jaw, breaking into a cold sweat from the blinding pain.

Startled by my reaction, she quickly let go, but her brows immediately knitted into a frown of disgust.

"Do you still think you’re some kind of prince, Davis? I barely touched your hair. Why the dramatic reaction? Is it really necessary?"

I could feel warm blood slowly trickling down my scalp. The pain was numbing.

I didn't want to waste another second on them. I just wanted to find a cheap clinic, patch myself up, and use the system to leave this godforsaken world.

I was a transmigrator, a soul traveling through parallel universes on love-conquest missions.

And Laura, Maria, and Sophie were the most unusual targets I had ever encountered.

I didn't even have to try to win them over. The moment they met me, they did a complete u-turn and chased after me like crazy.

Thinking back to those ridiculous memories, I let out a self-deprecating laugh.

I had traveled through so many worlds and met people far better than them. How did I end up throwing my heart away on these three?

But they obviously had no intention of letting me leave.

Sophie grabbed my wrist. Her grip was tight, her eyes completely devoid of warmth.

"Julian knows you’re getting out today, and he’s in a terrible mood. You’re coming with us to get on your knees and beg him for forgiveness. Make him feel better."

A sickening crack echoed in the quiet air.

My wrist was broken. Again.

Laura frowned slightly. "Sophie, watch your strength."

Sophie quickly pulled her hand back, looking at her palms in genuine confusion. "I barely touched him."

She was right. She didn't use much force.

But she didn't know that the inmates in prison had broken my wrists so many times that the bones were fragile. They would snap at the slightest pressure.

"Whatever. It’s just a fracture. It’ll heal. Let’s take him to Julian first," Laura said, waving her hand dismissively.

At that moment, Maria pulled out three envelopes from her purse.

She took a quick glance at them, and after getting a nod from the other two, she tossed them straight into a nearby trash can.

They were the love letters they had written to me years ago. Now, they found their own past words disgusting.

"If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t have wasted a single second on you, Davis. Only Julian deserves my love."

The blood from my scalp was still dripping, making my head spin. My vision started to blur.

Sophie was the first to notice something was off. "Why is his forehead bleeding?"

The blood dripped down my forehead, splashing onto the dusty pavement, blooming like tiny red flowers.

My body swayed.

I felt a strange sense of relief. Finally, they noticed. Maybe now they would take me to a clinic.

Instead, Laura let out a cold, mocking laugh.

"Playing the pity card? That trick doesn't work twice, Davis."

"You weren't like this when you were twenty."

"Over the years, under our protection, you didn't keep your innocence. You just became more toxic and manipulative day by day."